Dick and Brownie Part 13

"Go and get some cold water," he said, sternly.

She crept away meekly, and presently brought back a little drop in a broth basin. "That's all there is," she said, apologetically.

It was very little, but with it the big man bathed the child's face and hands, and dabbed her lips and her brow.

"Go and get a blanket," he ordered. "She oughtn't to be lying on the cold wet ground so long. She doesn't seem to be coming round."

He felt Huldah's pulse, and laid his hand over her heart. "It _is_ beating," he muttered, in a tone of relief. Then he lifted her on to the blanket, and wrapped her in it, then bathed her brow again, until presently a faint quiver of the body and a fluttering sigh showed that consciousness was returning.

At last Huldah opened her eyes and looked vaguely about her, wondering where she was. At sight of her aunt and the policeman the old look of terror came back to her face, and she struggled to sit up.

"Don't you hurry yourself, now," said the policeman, kindly.

"And don't you be afraid of me. I've come to look after you, and take you back to your friends."

"You can't," muttered Emma Smith, sullenly. "She's mine.

The child's right enough; they all want a hiding sometimes."

"Sometimes, perhaps, but not constant; and never as you lays it on.

I should be taking you up for murder if you did it often in your way!"

Emma Smith only looked more sullen. "Well, she's mine, and no one else's, and I'm going to keep her."

"Look here, my woman, what's the good of going on like that?

You've got to prove, first of all, that she is yours, and then that you're a fit and proper person to have her. In the meantime I've got my orders to fetch her away, and if you want her you can apply to the magistrates, and prove to them all that you've been saying.

Now, then, where's her bonnet and shawl?"

"She hasn't got any," sulkily.

"Then you've got to provide her with some. Hurry up; but first of all, has she had anything to eat or drink to-day?"

"No, nor won't have. I haven't got anything for myself."

"That seems unlucky; but if you'll come along of me you shall have a good cup of tea and a bit of breakfast. Now then, missie, are you ready?"

Huldah had sat speechless all this time. She felt giddy and ill, and quite worn out. She was so dazed too, she could not think what to do, or what she ought to do. Things seemed to have got beyond her, and to be taken out of her hands.

She struggled to her feet, and let the policeman wrap her, head and all, in the old shawl. She wondered vaguely if she would feel better able to walk when once she had started; but even the standing on her feet seemed too much for her, and it was with a real sense of relief that she felt the man lift her in his arms and stride away with her.

No word of farewell was said, but in a moment or two she heard her aunt's rough voice calling after them, "You've no right to that dog, and if you takes him I'll have the law of you!"

The policeman stopped, and turned round. "Oh, by the way, I've forgot one thing now. I want to see your dog-licence."

But Emma Smith only walked away into the van muttering angrily, and banging the door after her, left them to go their way in peace.

Huldah scarcely knew how that walk pa.s.sed. She was conscious now and then of a feeling of shame, for letting herself be carried.

She felt she ought to walk, but before she could say so the old faintness stole over her again, and she knew that to walk was beyond her power. Now and then she heard the policeman talking in a friendly voice to d.i.c.k, who walked close beside them, and d.i.c.k's excited bark. She was wondering how much further they had to go, when they drew up, and Huldah found herself being laid on a wooden bench in a room where two or three policemen were standing round a fire.

To her surprise, she was no longer afraid of them, they were too kind and gentle for that. One of those standing by the fire, an elderly man, came over to where she lay.

"Well, young woman," he said, cheerfully, "and when did you have anything to eat last? Day before yesterday, by the look of you."

Huldah tried to remember. "It wasn't quite so long ago as that," she said, feebly. "I had some dinner--yesterday, I think. When was yesterday?"

The man laughed. "Don't you worry," he said, kindly; "you've been living two days in one, and have got muddled. You will feel better when you've had a basin of hot bread and milk. Bring her over to the fire, Harry, she's starved with the cold."

"Harry," her first friend, carried her over, and put her in a big armchair by the fire, and presently one of the others brought her a basin of hot bread and milk, and a plateful of food for d.i.c.k, and before Huldah had taken a half of it she was feeling altogether a different person.

"I didn't feel hungry, but I s'pose I was," she said, simply, looking up with grateful, friendly eyes at the old policeman. "I feel ever so much better now."

"Ay, ay; we don't always know what we want, nor what is good for us,--but here's somebody as'll be good for you, unless I'm very much mistaken!" and Huldah, following the direction of his eyes as they travelled to the door, gave one long low cry of rapturous delight, for there walking in to the police station were Mrs. Perry and Miss Rose!

CHAPTER X.

ONE SUMMER'S AFTERNOON.

Huldah was home again, and d.i.c.k too, and more free and happy than they had ever been in their lives before, for, from Huldah, at any rate, there was lifted the great dread of being traced by her uncle and taken back, a dread which had in the old days lain always like a shadow on her life. Now, the worst had happened, and was over, for the law had declared that neither Tom Smith nor Emma, his wife had the slightest claim to her, not being related at all. Nor were they fit and proper persons to have the charge of any child. And to her great delight she was handed over to the guardians.h.i.+p of the vicar and Miss Rose Carew, and to the care of Mrs. Perry, to be trained and brought up to be an honest, truthful, industrious woman.

Never to the end of her life would Huldah forget that home-coming, that drive back to Woodend Lane, or those days that followed.

"Was it really only yesterday that I was here, and d.i.c.k and I walked into Belmouth?" she asked, incredulously, as she lay back in the carriage. "It seems weeks and weeks ago! Oh, how lovely everything is! It seems as if I didn't notice it enough till now;" and she drew in long breaths of the fresh cold air, and the mingled scents of wet earth and pine trees. "I seem to smell vi'lets, but they can't be out yet, can they, miss?"

Miss Carew laughed. "Lots of things have happened since yesterday, brownie; but even the brownies could not make the violets spring up and open in one night."

"But G.o.d could," thought Huldah to herself.

After all that happened in the last twenty-four hours, she felt that nothing was beyond His power, but she was too shy to say so aloud.

A deep sense of love and grat.i.tude for all the goodness shown to her made her feel, a moment later, ashamed of her shyness. G.o.d had been so good to her, how could she be so bad as to feel ashamed to speak of Him? She had prayed and prayed, and prayed to Him all that long night through, and He had heard her, and sent her help.

She had been frightened, and she had been made to suffer, but it was only that all might be made better for her presently. Young though she was, she could see that if she had not had this trial to go through, she would always have had the old danger, the old fear hanging over her. She would never have felt quite safe and happy.

Miss Rose had taught her about G.o.d, and His Son, the gentle, loving Christ. She had taught her to pray to Him, and to read her Bible, and to sing hymns, but only now did He become real to Huldah, her very only loving Father, and her heart swelled with love and grat.i.tude to Him who had stood by her and taken care of her.

She knew now, too, that He would take care of her all her life through.

"Oh, it's grand!" she thought to herself, "to have a big strong Father and a Brother to watch over one!" And she felt as though no one could harm her any more.

Rob was walking in leisurely fas.h.i.+on up the hill now, and no sound broke the silence but the twittering of the birds in the hedge, Rob's short, sharp steps on the hard road, and the scrunching of the gravel under the wheels, when suddenly Miss Rose's voice sounded singing softly but sweetly,

"Lead Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on; The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on.

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene,--one step enough for me."

Then Martha Perry's feeble voice joined in, and last of all Huldah's shy, weak treble. They were all so grateful, so full of thankfulness and faith, they could not help it. And ever after, when Huldah pa.s.sed along that road, the same lines sprang spontaneously to heart and lips, "One step enough for me."

Winter ended soon, and spring came early that year. In the cottage garden the wallflowers and daffodils had sprung up and burst into bloom before anyone had quite realised that their time had come.

In the field opposite the hedges were so lined with primroses that the scent greeted you across the road.

In those warm days, when school was over, and on half-holidays, Huldah took her work across to the field, and sat in the suns.h.i.+ne surrounded by the gold-starred hedges, where the ferns and violets and ladies' smocks fought for room, and mingled in one sweet tangle of beauty. She was very, very happy in those days, and busy from morning till night. She had her house-work, her school-work, and also her basket-making, and she worked very hard indeed at the last, for by means of it she was able to buy many little comforts for "Aunt Martha," as she had learnt to call Mrs. Perry, and was able to clothe herself, and put something by in the bank. At least, she hoped to be able to go on doing that, if the orders came in as they had done.