CHAPTER XI. THE WITCH'S WISHBONE
When a fortnight had elapsed we gave up all hope.
"Pat is dead," said the Story Girl hopelessly, as we returned oneevening from a bootless quest to Andrew Cowan's where a strange graycat had been reported--a cat which turned out to be a yellowish brownnondescript, with no tail to speak of.
"I'm afraid so," I acknowledged at last.
"If only Peg Bowen had been at home she could have found him for us,"asserted Peter. "Her skull would have told her where he was."
"I wonder if the wishbone she gave me would have done any good," criedCecily suddenly. "I'd forgotten all about it. Oh, do you suppose it'stoo late yet?"
"There's nothing in a wishbone," said Dan impatiently.
"You can't be sure. She TOLD me I'd get the wish I made on it. I'm goingto try whenever I get home."
"It can't do any harm, anyhow," said Peter, "but I'm afraid you've leftit too late. If Pat is dead even a witch's wishbone can't bring him backto life."
"I'll never forgive myself for not thinking about it before," mournedCecily.
As soon as we got home she flew to the little box upstairs where shekept her treasures, and brought therefrom the dry and brittle wishbone.
"Peg told me how it must be done. I'm to hold the wishbone with bothhands, like this, and walk backward, repeating the wish nine times. Andwhen I've finished the ninth time I'm to turn around nine times, fromright to left, and then the wish will come true right away."
"Do you expect to see Pat when you finish turning?" said Danskeptically.
None of us had any faith in the incantation except Peter, and, byinfection, Cecily. You never could tell what might happen. Cecilytook the wishbone in her trembling little hands and began her backwardpacing, repeating solemnly, "I wish that we may find Paddy alive, orelse his body, so that we can bury him decently." By the time Cecilyhad repeated this nine times we were all slightly infected with thedesperate hope that something might come of it; and when she hadmade her nine gyrations we looked eagerly down the sunset lane, halfexpecting to see our lost pet. But we saw only the Awkward Man turningin at the gate. This was almost as surprising as the sight of Pathimself would have been; but there was no sign of Pat and hope flickeredout in every breast but Peter's.
"You've got to give the spell time to work," he expostulated. "If Patwas miles away when it was wished it wouldn't be reasonable to expect tosee him right off."
But we of little faith had already lost that little, and it was a verydisconsolate group which the Awkward Man presently joined.
He was smiling--his rare, beautiful smile which only children eversaw--and he lifted his hat to the girls with no trace of the shyness andawkwardness for which he was notorious.
"Good evening," he said. "Have you little people lost a cat lately?"
We stared. Peter said "I knew it!" in a triumphant pig's whisper. TheStory Girl started eagerly forward.
"Oh, Mr. Dale, can you tell us anything of Paddy?" she cried.
"A silver gray cat with black points and very fine marking?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"Well, doesn't that beat the Dutch!" muttered Dan.
But we were all crowding about the Awkward Man, demanding where and whenhe had found Paddy.
"You'd better come over to my place and make sure that it really is yourcat," suggested the Awkward Man, "and I'll tell you all about findinghim on the way. I must warn you that he is pretty thin--but I thinkhe'll pull through."
We obtained permission to go without much difficulty, although thespring evening was wearing late, for Aunt Janet said she supposed noneof us would sleep a wink that night if we didn't. A joyful processionfollowed the Awkward Man and the Story Girl across the gray, star-littenmeadows to his home and through his pine-guarded gate.
"You know that old barn of mine back in the woods?" said the AwkwardMan. "I go to it only about once in a blue moon. There was an old barrelthere, upside down, one side resting on a block of wood. This morningI went to the barn to see about having some hay hauled home, and I hadoccasion to move the barrel. I noticed that it seemed to have beenmoved slightly since my last visit, and it was now resting wholly on thefloor. I lifted it up--and there was a cat lying on the floor under it.I had heard you had lost yours and I took it this was your pet. I wasafraid he was dead at first. He was lying there with his eyes closed;but when I bent over him he opened them and gave a pitiful little mew;or rather his mouth made the motion of a mew, for he was too weak toutter a sound."
"Oh, poor, poor Paddy," said tender-hearted Cecily tearfully.
"He couldn't stand, so I carried him home and gave him just a littlemilk. Fortunately he was able to lap it. I gave him a little more atintervals all day, and when I left he was able to crawl around. I thinkhe'll be all right, but you'll have to be careful how you feed him for afew days. Don't let your hearts run away with your judgment and kill himwith kindness."
"Do you suppose any one put him under that barrel?" asked the StoryGirl.
"No. The barn was locked. Nothing but a cat could get in. I supposehe went under the barrel, perhaps in pursuit of a mouse, and somehowknocked it off the block and so imprisoned himself."
Paddy was sitting before the fire in the Awkward Man's clean, barekitchen. Thin! Why, he was literally skin and bone, and his fur was dulland lustreless. It almost broke our hearts to see our beautiful Paddybrought so low.
"Oh, how he must have suffered!" moaned Cecily.
"He'll be as prosperous as ever in a week or two," said the Awkward Mankindly.
The Story Girl gathered Paddy up in her arms. Most mellifluously did hepurr as we crowded around to stroke him; with friendly joy he licked ourhands with his little red tongue; poor Paddy was a thankful cat; he wasno longer lost, starving, imprisoned, helpless; he was with his comradesonce more and he was going home--home to his old familiar haunts oforchard and dairy and granary, to his daily rations of new milk andcream, to the cosy corner of his own fireside. We trooped home joyfully,the Story Girl in our midst carrying Paddy hugged against her shoulder.Never did April stars look down on a happier band of travellers on thegolden road. There was a little gray wind out in the meadows thatnight, and it danced along beside us on viewless, fairy feet, and sanga delicate song of the lovely, waiting years, while the night laid herbeautiful hands of blessing over the world.
"You see what Peg's wishbone did," said Peter triumphantly.
"Now, look here, Peter, don't talk nonsense," expostulated Dan. "TheAwkward Man found Paddy this morning and had started to bring us wordbefore Cecily ever thought of the wishbone. Do you mean to say youbelieve he wouldn't have come walking up our lane just when he did ifshe had never thought of it?"
"I mean to say that I wouldn't mind if I had several wishbones of thesame kind," retorted Peter stubbornly.
"Of course I don't think the wishbone had really anything to do withour getting Paddy back, but I'm glad I tried it, for all that," remarkedCecily in a tone of satisfaction.
"Well, anyhow, we've got Pat and that's the main thing," said Felix.
"And I hope it will be a lesson to him to stay home after this,"commented Felicity.
"They say the barrens are full of mayflowers," said the Story Girl. "Letus have a mayflower picnic tomorrow to celebrate Paddy's safe return."