CHAPTER XIV.
She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. She was thinkingharder than she had ever thought before in the whole course of hershort life. When she reached the parting of the ways which led in onedirection to the sunny, pretty front entrance, and in the other to thestables, she paused again to consider.
Miss Winstead was standing in the new schoolroom window. It was alovely room, furnished with just as much taste as Sibyl's own bedroom.Miss Winstead put her head out, and called the child.
"Tea is ready, you had better come in. What are you doing there?"
"Is your head any better?" asked Sibyl, a ghost of a hope stealinginto her voice.
"No, I am sorry to say it is much worse. I am going to my room to liedown. Nurse will give you your tea."
Sibyl did not make any answer. Miss Winstead, supposing that she wasgoing into the house, went to her own room. She locked her door, laydown on her bed, and applied aromatic vinegar to her forehead.
Sibyl turned in the direction of the stables.
"It don't matter about my tea," she said to herself. "Nursie willthink I am with Miss Winstead, and Miss Winstead will think I am withnurse; it's all right. I wonder if Ben would ride mother's horse withme; but the first thing is to get the apples."
The thought of what she was about to do, and how she would coax Ben,the stable boy, to ride with her cheered her a little.
"It's awful to neglect the poor," she said to herself. "Old Scott wasvery solemn. He's a good man, is Scott, he's a very religious man, heknows his Bible beautiful. He does everything by the Psalms; it'swonderful what he finds in them--the weather and everything else. Iasked him before the storm came yesterday if we was going to haverain, and he said 'Read your Psalms and you'll know. Don't the Psalmsfor the day say "the Lord of glory thundereth"?' and he looked at ablack cloud that was coming up in the sky, and sure enough we had abig thunderstorm. It's wonderful what a religious man is old Scott,and what a lot he knows. He wouldn't say a thing if it wasn't true. Isuppose God does curse those who neglect the poor. I shouldn't like tobe cursed, and I did promise, and Dan _will_ be waiting and watching.A little girl whom Jesus loves ought to keep her promise. Well,anyhow, I'll get the apples ready."
Sibyl rushed into the house by a side entrance, secured a basket andentered the orchard. There she made a careful and wise selection. Shefilled the basket with the golden green fruit, and arranged itartistically with apple-leaves.
"This will tempt dear little Dan," she said to herself. There were afew greengages just beginning to come to perfection on a tree near.Sibyl picked several to add to her pile of tempting fruit, and thenshe went in the direction of the stables. Ben was nowhere about. Shecalled his name, he did not answer. He was generally to be found inthe yard at this hour. It was more than provoking.
"Ben! Ben! Ben!" called the child. Her clear voice sounded through theempty air. There came a gentle whinny in response.
"Oh, my darling Nameless Pony!" she thought. She burst open the stabledoor, and the next instant stood in the loose box beside the pony. Thecreature knew her and loved her. He pushed out his head and begged fora caress. Sibyl selected the smallest apple from the basket and gaveit to her pony. The nameless pony munched with right good will.
"I could ride him alone," thought Sibyl; "it is only two or threemiles away, and I know the road, and mother, though she may be angrywhen she hears, will soon forgive me. Mother never keeps angry verylong--that is one of the beautiful things about her. I do reallythink I will go by my lone self. I made a promise. Mother made apromise too, but then she forgets. I really do think I'll go. It's tooawful to remember your promise to the poor, and then to break it. Iwonder if I could saddle pony? Pony, darling, will you stay very quietwhile I try to put your saddle on? I have seen Ben do it so often, andone day I coaxed him to let me help him."
Just then a voice at the stable door said--
"Hullo! I say!" and Sibyl, starting violently, turned her head and sawa rough-headed lad of the name of Johnson, who sometimes assisted oldScott in the garden. Sibyl was not very fond of Johnson. She took aninterest in him, of course, as she did in all human beings, but he wasnot fascinating like little Dan Scott, and he had not a religious waywith him like old Scott; nevertheless, she was glad to see him now.
"Oh, Johnson," she said eagerly, "I want you to do something for me sobadly. If you will do it I will give you an apple."
"What is it, Miss?" asked Johnson.
"Will you saddle my pony for me? You can, can't you?"
"I guess I can," answered Johnson. He spoke laconically.
"Want to ride?" he said. "Who's a-goin' with yer?"
"No one, I am going alone."
Johnson made no remark. He looked at the basket of apples.
"I say," he cried, "them's good, I like apples."
"You shall have two, Johnson; oh, and I have a penny in my pocket aswell. Now please saddle the pony very fast, for I want to be off."
Johnson did not see anything remarkable in Sibyl's intended ride. Heknew nothing about little Missy. As far as his knowledge went it wasquite the habit for little ladies to ride by themselves. Of course hewould get the pony ready for her, so he lifted down the pretty newside-saddle from its place on the wall, and arranged it on the forestpony's back. The pony turned his large gentle eyes, and looked fromJohnson to the child.
"It don't matter about putting on my habit," said Sibyl. "It will takesuch a lot of time, I can go just as I am, can't I, Johnson?"
"If you like, Miss," answered Johnson.
"I think I will, really, Johnson," said Sibyl in that confiding waywhich fascinated all mankind, and made rough-headed Johnson her slavefor ever.
"I might be caught, you know, if I went back to the house."
"Oh, is that it?" answered Johnson.
"Yes, that's it; they don't understand. No one understands in thehouse how 'portant it is for me to go. I have to take the apples toDan Scott. I promised, you know, and it would not be right to break mypromise, would it, Johnson?"
Johnson scratched his head.
"I guess not!" he said.
"If I don't take them, he'll fret and fret," said Sibyl; "and he'llnever trust me again; and the curse of God is on them that neglect thepoor. Isn't it so, Johnson? You understand, don't you?"
"A bit, perhaps, Missy."
"Well, I am very much obliged to you," said the little girl. "Here'stwo apples, real beauties, and here's my new penny. Now, please leadpony out, and help me to mount him."
Johnson did so. The hoofs of the forest pony clattered loudly on thecobble stones of the yard. Johnson led the pony to the entrance of agreen lane which ran at the back of Silverbel. Here the little girlmounted. She jumped lightly into her seat. She was like a feather onthe back of the forest pony. Johnson arranged her skirts according toher satisfaction, and, with her long legs dangling, her head erect,and the reins in her hands, she started forward. The basket wassecurely fastened; and the pony, well pleased at having a littleexercise, for he had been in his stable for nearly two days, startedoff at a gentle canter.
Sibyl soon left Silverbel behind her. She cantered down the prettycountry road, enjoying herself vastly.
"I am so glad I did it," she thought; "it was brave of me. I will tellmy ownest father when he comes back. I'll tell him there was no one togo with me, and I had to do it in order to keep my promise, and he'llunderstand. I'll have to tell darling mother, too, to-night. She'll beangry, for mother thinks it is good for me to bear the yoke in myyouth, and she'll be vexed with me for going alone, but I know she'llforgive me afterward. Perhaps she'll say afterward, 'I'm sorry Iforgot, but you did right, Sibyl, you did right.' I am doing right,aren't I, Lord Jesus?" and again she raised her eyes, confident andhappy, to the evening sky.
The heat of the day was going over; it was now long past six o'clock.Presently she reached the small cottage where the sick boy lived. Shethere reined in her pony, and called aloud:
"Are you in, Mrs. Scott?
"
A peevish-looking old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with alarge frill falling round her face, appeared in the rose-covered porchof the tiny cottage.
"Ah! it's you, Missy, at last," she said, and she trotted down as wellas her lameness would let her to the gate. "Has you brought theapples?" she cried. "You are very late, Missy. Oh, I'm obligated, ofcourse, and I thank you heartily, Miss. Will you wait for the basket,or shall I send it by Scott to-morrow?"
"You can send it to-morrow, please," answered Sibyl.
"And you ain't a-coming in? The lad's expecting you."
"I am afraid I cannot, not to-night. Mother wasn't able to come withme. Tell Dan that I brought him his apples, and I'll come and see himto-morrow if I possibly can. Tell him I won't make him an out-and-outpromise, 'cos if you make a promise to the poor and don't keep it,Lord Jesus is angry, and you get cursed. I don't quite know whatcursed means, do you, Mrs. Scott?"
An old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with alarge frill, appeared in the porch of the tiny cottage.--Page 224._Daddy's Girl_.]
"Oh, don't I," answered Mrs. Scott. "It's a pity you can't come in,Missy. There, Danny, keep quiet; the little lady ain't no time to bea-visiting of you. That's him calling out, Missy; you wait aminute, and I'll find out what he wants."
Mrs. Scott hobbled back to the house, and the pony chafed restlesslyat the delay.
"Quiet, darling; quiet, pet," said Sibyl to her favorite, patting himon his arched neck.
Presently Mrs. Scott came back.
"Dan's obligated for the apples, Miss, but he thinks a sight more of atalk with you than of any apples that ever growed. He 'opes you'llcome another day."
"I wish, I do wish I could come in now," said Sibyl wistfully; "but Ijust daren't. You see, I have not even my riding habit on, I was soafraid someone would stop me from coming at all. Give Danny my love.But you have not told me yet what a curse means, Mrs. Scott."
"Oh, that," answered Mrs. Scott, "but you ain't no call to know."
"But I'd like to. I hate hearing things without understanding. What isa curse, Mrs. Scott?"
"There are all sorts," replied Mrs. Scott. "Once I knowed a man, andhe had a curse on him, and he dwindled and dwindled, and got smallerand thinner and poorer, until nothing would nourish him, no food nordrink nor nothing, and he shrunk up ter'ble until he died. It's mybelief he haunts the churchyard now. No one likes to go there in theevening. The name of the man was Micah Sorrel. He was the most ter'bleexample of a curse I ever comed acrost in my life."
"Well, I really must be going now," said Sibyl with a little shiver."Good-by; tell Dan I'll try hard to come and see him to-morrow."
She turned the pony's head and cantered down the lane. She did notconsider Mrs. Scott a specially nice old woman.
"She's a gloomy sort," thought the child, "she takes a gloomy view. Ilike people who don't take gloomy views best. Perhaps she is somethinglike old Scott; having lived with him so long as his wife, perhapsthey have got to think things the same way. Old Scott looked verysolemn when he said that it was a terrible thing to have the curse ofthe poor. I wonder what Micah Sorrel did. I am sorry she told me abouthim, I don't like the story. But there, why should I blame Mrs. Scott,for I asked her to 'splain what a curse was. I 'spect I'm a very queergirl, and I didn't really keep my whole word. I said positive andplain that I would take a basket of apples to Dan, and go and sit withhim. I did take the apples, but I didn't go in and sit with him. Oh,dear, I'll have to go back by the churchyard. I hope Micah Sorrelwon't be about. I shouldn't like to see him, he must be shrunk up soawful by now. Come along, pony darling, we'll soon be back homeagain."
Sibyl lightly touched the pony's ears with a tiny whip which LordGrayleigh had given her. He whisked his head indignantly at the motionand broke into a trot, the trot became a canter, and the canter agallop.
Sibyl laughed aloud in her enjoyment. They were now close to thechurchyard. The sun was getting near the horizon, but still there wasplenty of light.
"A little faster, as we are passing the churchyard, pony pet," saidSybil, and she bent towards her steed and again touched him, nothingmore than a feather touch, on his arched neck. But pony was spirited,and had endured too much stabling, and was panting for exercise; and,just at that moment, turning abruptly round a corner came a man wavinga red flag. He was followed by a procession of school children, allshouting and racing. The churchyard was in full view.
Sibyl laughed with a sense of relief when she saw the procession.She would not be alone as she passed the churchyard, and doubtlessMicah Sorrel would be all too wise to make his appearance, but thenext instant she gave a cry of alarm, for the pony first swervedviolently, and then rushed off at full gallop. The red flag hadstartled him, and the children's shouts were the final straw.
"Not quite so fast, darling," cried Sibyl; "a little slower, pet."
But pet and darling was past all remonstrances on the part of hislittle mistress. He flew on, having clearly made up his mind to runaway from the red flag and the shouting children to the other end ofthe earth. In vain Sibyl jerked the reins and pulled and pulled. Hersmall face was white as death; her little arms seemed almost wrenchedfrom their sockets. She kept her seat bravely. Someone driving adog-cart was coming to meet her. A voice called--
"Hullo! Stop, for goodness' sake; don't turn the corner. Stop! Stop!"
Sibyl heard the voice. She looked wildly ahead. She had no more powerto stop the nameless pony than the earth has power to pause as itturns on its axis. The next instant the corner was reached; all seemedsafe, when, with a sudden movement, the pony dashed madly forward, andSibyl felt herself falling, she did not know where. There was aninstant of intense and violent pain, stars shone before her eyes, andthen everything was lost in blessed unconsciousness.