Chatterbox, 1906 Part 91

'What do you say, dearie, to our going to bed early to-night?' she asked, when the child's chatter about the Moat House and Begbie Hall came to a natural pause. 'It will be more comfortable in our own room, and you can talk to me just the same till you fall asleep.'

Estelle, who had been sitting with her head against Goody's knee, as being a safer place than anywhere else in that great, dark kitchen, sprang up with joy at the proposal. The bedroom was so much smaller and nicer, and had no ugly corners.

It did not take long to fold up Mrs. Wright's knitting, and put it into the huge bag in which it was kept for convenience, nor to chase the b.a.l.l.s of wool and wind them up. Mrs. Wright, meantime, lighted the candles, her eyes on the bookcase.

Her heart suddenly stood still. The bookcase, which ran on large casters, covered the entrance to one of the long pa.s.sages in the Hospice de la Providence. It was heavy and difficult to move, and yet--was it possible that it _was_ moving? She paused, match in hand, and gazed with terrified eyes. The next moment the recollection of the necessity of keeping the child in ignorance of her danger made her brace up her nerves, and, throwing the match away calmly, she spoke in her usual tones.

'Are you ready now, dearie? Come along. You carry my knitting-bag, and I'll bring the candles and put the lamp out.'

Her movements were, perhaps, a trifle quicker than usual, and her voice might have had a little quiver in it, but Estelle was too much excited, and too anxious to get within the shelter of the bedroom, to notice anything amiss. She whirled up the bag, threw it over her shoulder, as she had seen the men do with their nets, and danced off. Following her quickly, Mrs. Wright shut and barricaded the door. More than that. With Estelle's a.s.sistance, she drew the chest of drawers across it. The window was too high for danger to threaten from that quarter. With a sigh of relief she sat down, after a glance into one of the drawers.

Jack's pistols were there, safe enough, in case they should be wanted.

She would load them as soon as the child was asleep. She left the two candles alight.

'Are you not going to bed, too?' asked Estelle, as she opened her sleepy eyes a few minutes later.

'Not just yet, dearie. It is early for me. But you get to sleep as fast as you can.'

She remained perfectly still, holding the little girl's hand. In the deep silence her hearing became acute, but for some time she could not detect the faintest movement. Hope had begun to spring up. Perhaps, after all, the bookcase had proved too heavy. Dared she venture to go to bed? Drawing her hand gently from Estelle's relaxed hold, she rose softly--then stopped. The dreaded sound! The door-handle was turned gently!

With noiseless step, Mrs. Wright went to the chest, of drawers, took out the pistols, and loaded them. If the man at the door had been listening, he might have heard the faint click as she c.o.c.ked the triggers.

Silence profound reigned for some seconds, and the loud beating of her heart made her fear she had missed some sounds. Then came a slight grating, and the next instant there was a wrench, and the door sprang backwards. But for the two very long bolts, strengthened by the chest of drawers, it must have been broken open. The noise made the sleeping child stir, but happily did not wake her. It was evident that the intruder, finding the door locked, had had recourse to stronger measures, and would stop at nothing which would help him to get at the child. Mrs. Wright knew he was not likely to give up his attempt at the first failure. She waited in breathless silence, a pistol ready in her hand.

Again the effort to spring the door open was made, but the bolts held it fast. Another silence, and then came the sound of cuts being made in the woodwork, as if to take out the panel. But the wood was thick, and old age had hardened it. Any attempt to penetrate it would only mean loss of valuable time.

This second failure depressed Thomas exceedingly. He had had a very hard week. Only the hope of Jack's absence had kept him near the Hospice de la Providence. He had managed to get into the disused portion, where hiding had not been difficult among those gloomy pa.s.sages and empty chambers. Getting food had not been a light business. It had necessitated a long walk every now and again, as soon as the friendly shadows of night permitted, to a neighbouring village, where he was unknown. He had been obliged to be very careful of his money, too, as he had only what had been paid to him by the circus people. It could not last long, and, what he grudged most of all, his candles and tools had to come out of it. It was essential to the success of his plans that he should discover a way into Jack's abode without attracting attention, and for this he required light.

So cautiously were his discoveries made that even Jack was ignorant of his presence so near him. Thomas could even hear what was said in the vast kitchen if the voices of the speakers were at all raised, and by this means he had learned of Jack's trawling expedition. Had he discovered the opening before, he might have acted differently. The discussion over the plans for finding Estelle's home would have made him aware that he would gain more by helping than by any attempts at kidnapping. He would have seen that it was wiser to make terms with Jack, rather than risk the loss of everything by grasping at too much.

But Thomas's mind was naturally slow. He had not heard the discussion, and the idea of sharing any reward which might be offered for Estelle with anybody else had not even occurred to him. With any prospect of success he would have scouted the idea; but, with no food, no money, and the child so carefully guarded, he had sense enough to perceive that Jack was better as his friend than as his enemy. Now, however, it was too late. Jack was out of the way, and capture the child he must. Once manage that, and he could dictate what terms he pleased.

He made up his mind that Jack could not know where Estelle's home was, for it was not likely that, since the little girl had not been able to tell him all this long time, she could tell him now. Her want of memory gave him time.

He had failed with the door. He must try some other way. Meantime, he would continue to live at the Hospice de la Providence, and pursue his nightly investigations of that rocky coast.

On his return the following morning, Jack was alarmed at what his mother had to tell him. She took care to speak when Estelle was not near, and they agreed to keep a stricter watch. Jack secured the bookcase against a second attempt to move it, and then went to M. le Prefet to see what he advised. The result was that Thomas was hunted from one place of concealment in the caves to another. No hiding in dark corners would have saved him, however, had he not remembered a certain broad ledge of open rock which he had discovered accidentally a few days before. On this he managed to scramble, and remained there, watching his pursuers with a great deal of bitterness and wrath.

(_Continued on page 310._)

THE DUKE'S RUSE.

The eccentric Duke of Bridgewater, who owned extensive coal-mines near Manchester, and spent a large fortune in opening them out, and in constructing a ca.n.a.l to carry the coal to Manchester and Liverpool, took great pleasure in watching his men at work. He used to come every morning to the place where they were boring for coal, and stand looking on for hours at a time. He was often there when the bell rang at twelve o'clock, at which hour the men ceased work for their noonday meal and rest. But the men scarcely liked to give up work while the Duke was watching them, and they continued on until he went away. As it was not pleasant to have their dinner-hour deferred day after day in this way, the men tried to avoid working at the boring which the Duke was accustomed to visit, and the Duke's engineer, Brindley, had great difficulty in finding sufficient men for that particular work. Upon inquiry, he discovered the reason of it, and explained matters to the Duke, who took care after that to walk away before the bell rang at noon.

The Duke was a shrewd, observant man, and he did not fail to notice that his workmen ceased working the moment the bell began to strike at twelve o'clock, but they were not so prompt in resuming work at one o'clock.

They came leisurely up one by one, some minutes after the clock had struck. When the Duke inquired the reason of this, the men excused themselves by saying that while they heard the clock well enough when it struck twelve, they did not always hear it when it struck only once. The Duke thereupon had the clock made to strike thirteen at one o'clock, so that the men could no longer plead this excuse for their dilatoriness.

This clock was still in use not many years ago, and may be even yet striking its thirteen strokes at one o'clock.

LOOKING UP AND LOOKING DOWN.

The little flower set in the gra.s.s, Where it doth lowly lie, As one by one the bright hours pa.s.s, Looks upward to the sky.

So must a child's thoughts upward soar, So must my soul take wings, And to grow wiser than before Reach up to lofty things.

The little stars set in the sky, As night by night they show, Though s.h.i.+ning in their home on high, Look down to earth below.

So I must stoop to lowly things, To gentle deeds of love; E'en though my thoughts soar upon wings, And climb to Heaven above.

PEEPS INTO NATURE'S NURSERIES.

X.--NURSERY CUSTOMS IN THE FISH-WORLD.

In our last article we drew a contrast between those creatures which thrust their young upon the world at the earliest possible moment, taking care only to lay their eggs in a favourable spot, and leaving them to hatch or be eaten as the case may be, and those which display the most tender care for their offspring at least until they are able to fight for themselves. In the first case, thousands of young have to be brought into the world at one time because of the enormous death-rate which this helplessness brings about; in the second, comparatively few, sometimes only one or two, young ones make up the family.

I propose now to tell you more of this fascinating question; to show you some perfectly amazing instances of the care and love for their young which some of these little mothers and fathers display, and these instances shall be taken from what we call the 'cold-blooded' fishes.

Let us begin with one of the commonest and best-known of our fishes, the stickleback of our ponds and ditches. The male stickleback, as many of you may know, builds a wonderful nest (see fig. 1), in which, when finished, he invites his chosen mate to lay her eggs. As soon as these precious treasures have been entrusted to his care, he makes himself their sole guardian, forcing currents of fresh water through the nest by the violent fanning motion of his breast-fins, and driving away all that come near. Strangely enough, he has to exercise the greatest care to keep out his mate, who would eat every single egg if she could but get the chance! Every now and then he holds an inspection, shakes up the material of the nest, drags out the eggs, and pushes them back into their places again just to make sure that they are safe, and to keep them bathed in clear water. But soon the little fish appear, and then his labours are increased a hundredfold. If they rise more than a certain height above the bottom of the stream, or stray beyond what he regards as a safe limit from the nest, they are immediately seized in his mouth, brought back, and gently puffed or jetted into the nest again. Day and night his watch is kept, till at last they grow too big to be controlled, and are allowed to stray whither they will.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 1 THREE SPINED STICKLEBACK]

Another of our native fishes, found in the Thames among other places, builds a nest for its young. This is the 'spotted goby' or 'pole-wing.'

Here an old sh.e.l.l is made to do duty for a nursery. The sh.e.l.l is turned over so that its hollowed portion forms a roof; the mud from below is scooped away and a tunnel is then made leading away from the chamber so formed. When all is complete, the mother enters and deposits her eggs, and leaves her mate to mount guard over the nest till the young are hatched and make their way out.

In the 'b.u.t.ter-fishes' or 'gunnels' which are found round our coasts, the eggs are rolled into a ball, and jealously nursed by the parents, each in turn coiling its body round the ma.s.s, and so protecting it from injury (see fig. 2).

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 2 b.u.t.tER FISH]

Many of those crafty 'hooligans' of the sea, the skates, are most affectionate as parents. One of the giants of the tribe, the great 'devil-fish,' will defend its young with great ferocity. Its capture is at all times attended with danger, but is especially perilous when it is accompanying its offspring; at such times it has been known to attack and upset a boat!

In one of the 'cat-fishes'--the Aspredo (fig. 3)--the mother carries the eggs about with her, and this is managed in a very remarkable way. Just at the time she lays her eggs, the skin of the under surface of her body becomes swollen and spongy, and into this she presses her eggs by lying on them. Here, snugly sheltered, they remain till hatched! The curious 'sea-horse' has adopted a yet stranger contrivance, the fins and certain special folds of the skin of the under sides of the body forming a pouch, into which the eggs are placed, remaining till hatched. As soon as this takes place the pouch becomes the nursery of the young ones.

But, strange though it may seem, this pouch is developed by the father of the family, who does all the nursing!

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 3 THE ASPREDO CAT FISH]

Some of the cat-fishes--the Arius, for example--carry the eggs in their capacious throats till they hatch! How the fish manages to prevent the escape of his precious burden through his gills, or to prevent himself from swallowing them, is something of a mystery.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 4 PARADISE FISH]

Finally we come, I think, to the oddest of all these devices to ensure the safety and well-being of the young. Thus, certain fishes related to the wonderful Anabas--the perch that climbs trees!--make nests of bubbles, in which the eggs are placed! The Gorami and the beautiful little 'paradise-fish' (fig. 4), for example, built floating nurseries of this kind, the bubble-raft being made by the male. In the case of the paradise-fish these bubbles are blown so that the enclosed eggs are raised above the level of the water, where they remain till hatched!