CHAPTER VIII. WE VISIT PEG BOWEN
We left Cousin Mattie's early, for it still looked like a storm, thoughno more so than it had in the morning. We intended to go home by adifferent path--one leading through cleared land overgrown with scrubmaple, which had the advantage of being farther away from Peg Bowen'shouse. We hoped to be home before it began to storm, but we had hardlyreached the hill above the village when a fine, driving snow began tofall. It would have been wiser to have turned back even then; but wehad already come a mile and we thought we would have ample time to reachhome before it became really bad. We were sadly mistaken; by the timewe had gone another half-mile we were in the thick of a bewildering,blinding snowstorm. But it was by now just as far back to CousinMattie's as it was to Uncle Alec's, so we struggled on, growing morefrightened at every step. We could hardly face the stinging snow, and wecould not see ten feet ahead of us. It had turned bitterly cold andthe tempest howled all around us in white desolation under thefast-darkening night. The narrow path we were trying to follow soonbecame entirely obliterated and we stumbled blindly on, holding to eachother, and trying to peer through the furious whirl that filled the air.Our plight had come upon us so suddenly that we could not realize it.Presently Peter, who was leading the van because he was supposed to knowthe path best, stopped.
"I can't see the road any longer," he shouted. "I don't know where weare."
We all stopped and huddled together in a miserable group. Fear filledour hearts. It seemed ages ago that we had been snug and safe and warmat Cousin Mattie's. Cecily began to cry with cold. Dan, in spite of herprotests, dragged off his overcoat and made her put it on.
"We can't stay here," he said. "We'll all freeze to death if we do. Comeon--we've got to keep moving. The snow ain't so deep yet. Take hold ofmy hand, Cecily. We must all hold together. Come, now."
"It won't be nice to be frozen to death, but if we get through alivethink what a story we'll have to tell," said the Story Girl between herchattering teeth.
In my heart I did not believe we would ever get through alive. It wasalmost pitch dark now, and the snow grew deeper every moment. We werechilled to the heart. I thought how nice it would be to lie down andrest; but I remembered hearing that that was fatal, and I endeavoured tostumble on with the others. It was wonderful how the girls kept up, evenCecily. It occurred to me to be thankful that Sara Ray was not with us.
But we were wholly lost now. All around us was a horror of greatdarkness. Suddenly Felicity fell. We dragged her up, but she declaredshe could not go on--she was done out.
"Have you any idea where we are?" shouted Dan to Peter.
"No," Peter shouted back, "the wind is blowing every which way. Ihaven't any idea where home is."
Home! Would we ever see it again? We tried to urge Felicity on, but sheonly repeated drowsily that she must lie down and rest. Cecily, too,was reeling against me. The Story Girl still stood up staunchly andcounselled struggling on, but she was numb with cold and her words werehardly distinguishable. Some wild idea was in my mind that we must dig ahole in the snow and all creep into it. I had read somewhere that peoplehad thus saved their lives in snowstorms. Suddenly Felix gave a shout.
"I see a light," he cried.
"Where? Where?" We all looked but could see nothing.
"I don't see it now but I saw it a moment ago," shouted Felix. "I'm sureI did. Come on--over in this direction."
Inspired with fresh hope we hurried after him. Soon we all saw thelight--and never shone a fairer beacon. A few more steps and, cominginto the shelter of the woodland on the further side, we realized wherewe were.
"That's Peg Bowen's house," exclaimed Peter, stopping short in dismay.
"I don't care whose house it is," declared Dan. "We've got to go to it."
"I s'pose so," acquiesced Peter ruefully. "We can't freeze to death evenif she is a witch."
"For goodness' sake don't say anything about witches so close to herhouse," gasped Felicity. "I'll be thankful to get in anywhere."
We reached the house, climbed the flight of steps that led to thatmysterious second story door, and Dan rapped. The door opened promptlyand Peg Bowen stood before us, in what seemed exactly the same costumeshe had worn on the memorable day when we had come, bearing gifts, topropitiate her in the matter of Paddy.
"Behind her was a dim room scantly illumined by the one small candlethat had guided us through the storm; but the old Waterloo stove wascolouring the gloom with tremulous, rose-red whorls of light, and warmand cosy indeed seemed Peg's retreat to us snow-covered, frost-chilled,benighted wanderers.
"Gracious goodness, where did yez all come from?" exclaimed Peg. "Didthey turn yez out?"
"We've been over to Baywater, and we got lost in the storm coming back,"explained Dan. "We didn't know where we were till we saw your light.I guess we'll have to stay here till the storm is over--if you don'tmind."
"And if it won't inconvenience you," said Cecily timidly.
"Oh, it's no inconvenience to speak of. Come in. Well, yez HAVE got somesnow on yez. Let me get a broom. You boys stomp your feet well and shakeyour coats. You girls give me your things and I'll hang them up. Guessyez are most froze. Well, sit up to the stove and git het up."
Peg bustled away to gather up a dubious assortment of chairs, with backsand rungs missing, and in a few minutes we were in a circle around herroaring stove, getting dried and thawed out. In our wildest flightsof fancy we had never pictured ourselves as guests at the witch'shearth-stone. Yet here we were; and the witch herself was actuallybrewing a jorum of ginger tea for Cecily, who continued to shiver longafter the rest of us were roasted to the marrow. Poor Sis drank thatscalding draught, being in too great awe of Peg to do aught else.
"That'll soon fix your shivers," said our hostess kindly. "And now I'llget yez all some tea."
"Oh, please don't trouble," said the Story Girl hastily.
"'Tain't any trouble," said Peg briskly; then, with one of the suddenchanges to fierceness which made her such a terrifying personage, "Doyez think my vittels ain't clean?"
"Oh, no, no," cried Felicity quickly, before the Story Girl could speak,"none of us would ever think THAT. Sara only meant she didn't want youto go to any bother on our account."
"It ain't any bother," said Peg, mollified. "I'm spry as a cricket thiswinter, though I have the realagy sometimes. Many a good bite I've hadin your ma's kitchen. I owe yez a meal."
No more protests were made. We sat in awed silence, gazing with timidcuriosity about the room, the stained, plastered walls of which werewell-nigh covered with a motley assortment of pictures, chromos, andadvertisements, pasted on without much regard for order or character.
We had heard much of Peg's pets and now we saw them. Six cats occupiedvarious cosy corners; one of them, the black goblin which had soterrified us in the summer, blinked satirically at us from the centre ofPeg's bed. Another, a dilapidated, striped beastie, with both ears andone eye gone, glared at us from the sofa in the corner. A dog, with onlythree legs, lay behind the stove; a crow sat on a roost above ourheads, in company with a matronly old hen; and on the clock shelf werea stuffed monkey and a grinning skull. We had heard that a sailor hadgiven Peg the monkey. But where had she got the skull? And whose was it?I could not help puzzling over these gruesome questions.
Presently tea was ready and we gathered around the festal board--a boardliterally as well as figuratively, for Peg's table was the work of herown unskilled hands. The less said about the viands of that meal, andthe dishes they were served in, the better. But we ate them--bless you,yes!--as we would have eaten any witch's banquet set before us. Pegmight or might not be a witch--common sense said not; but we knew shewas quite capable of turning every one of us out of doors in one ofher sudden fierce fits if we offended her; and we had no mind to trustourselves again to that wild forest where we had fought a losing fightwith the demon forces of night and storm.
But it was not an agreeable meal in more ways than one. Peg was notat all careful of
anybody's feelings. She hurt Felix's cruelly as shepassed him his cup of tea.
"You've gone too much to flesh, boy. So the magic seed didn't work,hey?"
How in the world had Peg found out about that magic seed? Felix lookeduncommonly foolish.
"If you'd come to me in the first place I'd soon have told you how toget thin," said Peg, nodding wisely.
"Won't you tell me now?" asked Felix eagerly, his desire to melt his toosolid flesh overcoming his dread and shame.
"No, I don't like being second fiddle," answered Peg with a craftysmile. "Sara, you're too scrawny and pale--not much like your ma. I knewher well. She was counted a beauty, but she made no great things of amatch. Your father had some money but he was a tramp like meself. Whereis he now?"
"In Rome," said the Story Girl rather shortly.
"People thought your ma was crazy when she took him. But she'd a rightto please herself. Folks is too ready to call other folks crazy. There'speople who say I'M not in my right mind. Did yez ever"--Peg fixedFelicity with a piercing glance--"hear anything so ridiculous?"
"Never," said Felicity, white to the lips.
"I wish everybody was as sane as I am," said Peg scornfully. Then shelooked poor Felicity over critically. "You're good-looking but proud.And your complexion won't wear. It'll be like your ma's yet--too muchred in it."
"Well, that's better than being the colour of mud," muttered Peter, whowasn't going to hear his lady traduced, even by a witch. All the thankshe got was a furious look from Felicity, but Peg had not heard him andnow she turned her attention to Cecily.
"You look delicate. I daresay you'll never live to grow up."
Cecily's lip trembled and Dan's face turned crimson.
"Shut up," he said to Peg. "You've no business to say such things topeople."
I think my jaw dropped. I know Peter's and Felix's did. Felicity brokein wildly.
"Oh, don't mind him, Miss Bowen. He's got SUCH a temper--that's just theway he talks to us all at home. PLEASE excuse him."
"Bless you, I don't mind him," said Peg, from whom the unexpected seemedto be the thing to expect. "I like a lad of spurrit. And so your fatherrun away, did he, Peter? He used to be a beau of mine--he seen me homethree times from singing school when we was young. Some folks said hedid it for a dare. There's such a lot of jealousy in the world, ain'tthere? Do you know where he is now?"
"No," said Peter.
"Well, he's coming home before long," said Peg mysteriously.
"Who told you that?" cried Peter in amazement.
"Better not ask," responded Peg, looking up at the skull.
If she meant to make the flesh creep on our bones she succeeded. Butnow, much to our relief, the meal was over and Peg invited us to drawour chairs up to the stove again.
"Make yourselves at home," she said, producing her pipe from her pocket."I ain't one of the kind who thinks their houses too good to live in.Guess I won't bother washing the dishes. They'll do yez for breakfast ifyez don't forget your places. I s'pose none of yez smokes."
"No," said Felicity, rather primly.
"Then yez don't know what's good for yez," retorted Peg, rathergrumpily. But a few whiffs of her pipe placated her and, observingCecily sigh, she asked her kindly what was the matter.
"I'm thinking how worried they'll be at home about us," explainedCecily.
"Bless you, dearie, don't be worrying over that. I'll send them wordthat yez are all snug and safe here."
"But how can you?" cried amazed Cecily.
"Better not ask," said Peg again, with another glance at the skull.
An uncomfortable silence followed, finally broken by Peg, who introducedher pets to us and told how she had come by them. The black cat was herfavourite.
"That cat knows more than I do, if yez'll believe it," she said proudly."I've got a rat too, but he's a bit shy when strangers is round. Yourcat got all right again that time, didn't he?"
"Yes," said the Story Girl.
"Thought he would," said Peg, nodding sagely. "I seen to that. Now,don't yez all be staring at the hole in my dress."
"We weren't," was our chorus of protest.
"Looked as if yez were. I tore that yesterday but I didn't mend it. Iwas brought up to believe that a hole was an accident but a patch was adisgrace. And so your Aunt Olivia is going to be married after all?"
This was news to us. We felt and looked dazed.
"I never heard anything of it," said the Story Girl.
"Oh, it's true enough. She's a great fool. I've no faith in husbands.But one good thing is she ain't going to marry that Henry Jacobs ofMarkdale. He wants her bad enough. Just like his presumption,--thinkinghimself good enough for a King. His father is the worst man alive. Hechased me off his place with his dog once. But I'll get even with himyet."
Peg looked very savage, and visions of burned barns floated through ourminds.
"He'll be punished in hell, you know," said Peter timidly.
"But I won't be there to see that," rejoined Peg. "Some folks say I'llgo there because I don't go to church oftener. But I don't believe it."
"Why don't you go?" asked Peter, with a temerity that bordered onrashness.
"Well, I've got so sunburned I'm afraid folks might take me for anInjun," explained Peg, quite seriously. "Besides, your minister makessuch awful long prayers. Why does he do it?"
"I suppose he finds it easier to talk to God than to people," suggestedPeter reflectively.
"Well, anyway, I belong to the round church," said Peg comfortably, "andso the devil can't catch ME at the corners. I haven't been to Carlislechurch for over three years. I thought I'd a-died laughing the last timeI was there. Old Elder Marr took up the collection that day. He'd on apair of new boots and they squeaked all the way up and down the aisles.And every time the boots squeaked the elder made a face, like he hadtoothache. It was awful funny. How's your missionary quilt coming on,Cecily?"
Was there anything Peg didn't know?
"Very well," said Cecily.
"You can put my name on it, if you want to."
"Oh, thank you. Which section--the five-cent one or the ten-cent one?"asked Cecily timidly.
"The ten-cent one, of course. The best is none too good for me. I'llgive you the ten cents another time. I'm short of change just now--notbeing as rich as Queen Victory. There's her picture up there--the onewith the blue sash and diamint crown and the lace curting on her head.Can any of yez tell me this--is Queen Victory a married woman?"
"Oh, yes, but her husband is dead," answered the Story Girl.
"Well, I s'pose they couldn't have called her an old maid, seeing shewas a queen, even if she'd never got married. Sometimes I sez to myself,'Peg, would you like to be Queen Victory?' But I never know whatto answer. In summer, when I can roam anywhere in the woods and thesunshine--I wouldn't be Queen Victory for anything. But when it's winterand cold and I can't git nowheres--I feel as if I wouldn't mind changingplaces with her."
Peg put her pipe back in her mouth and began to smoke fiercely. Thecandle wick burned long, and was topped by a little cap of fiery redthat seemed to wink at us like an impish gnome. The most grotesqueshadow of Peg flickered over the wall behind her. The one-eyed catremitted his grim watch and went to sleep. Outside the wind screamedlike a ravening beast at the window. Suddenly Peg removed her pipe fromher mouth, bent forward, gripped my wrist with her sinewy fingers untilI almost cried out with pain, and gazed straight into my face. I felthorribly frightened of her. She seemed an entirely different creature. Awild light was in her eyes, a furtive, animal-like expression was onher face. When she spoke it was in a different voice and in differentlanguage.
"Do you hear the wind?" she asked in a thrilling whisper. "What IS thewind? What IS the wind?"
"I--I--don't know," I stammered.
"No more do I," said Peg, "and nobody knows. Nobody knows what the windis. I wish I could find out. I mightn't be so afraid of the wind if Iknew what it was. I am afraid of it. When the blasts come like that
Iwant to crouch down and hide me. But I can tell you one thing about thewind--it's the only free thing in the world--THE--ONLY--FREE--THING.Everything else is subject to some law, but the wind is FREE. It blowethwhere it listeth and no man can tame it. It's free--that's why Ilove it, though I'm afraid of it. It's a grand thing to be free--freefree--free!"
Peg's voice rose almost to a shriek. We were dreadfully frightened, forwe knew there were times when she was quite crazy and we feared one ofher "spells" was coming on her. But with a swift movement she turnedthe man's coat she wore up over her shoulders and head like a hood,completely hiding her face. Then she crouched forward, elbows on knees,and relapsed into silence. None of us dared speak or move. We sat thusfor half an hour. Then Peg jumped up and said briskly in her usual tone,
"Well, I guess yez are all sleepy and ready for bed. You girls can sleepin my bed over there, and I'll take the sofy. Yez can put the cat off ifyez like, though he won't hurt yez. You boys can go downstairs. There'sa big pile of straw there that'll do yez for a bed, if yez put yourcoats on. I'll light yez down, but I ain't going to leave yez a lightfor fear yez'd set fire to the place."
Saying good-night to the girls, who looked as if they thought their lasthour was come, we went to the lower room. It was quite empty, save for apile of fire wood and another of clean straw. Casting a stealthy glancearound, ere Peg withdrew the light, I was relieved to see that therewere no skulls in sight. We four boys snuggled down in the straw. We didnot expect to sleep, but we were very tired and before we knew it oureyes were shut, to open no more till morning. The poor girls were notso fortunate. They always averred they never closed an eye. Four thingsprevented them from sleeping. In the first place Peg snored loudly; inthe second place the fitful gleams of firelight kept flickering over theskull for half the night and making gruesome effects on it; in the thirdplace Peg's pillows and bedclothes smelled rankly of tobacco smoke; andin the fourth place they were afraid the rat Peg had spoken of mightcome out to make their acquaintance. Indeed, they were sure they heardhim skirmishing about several times.
When we wakened in the morning the storm was over and a young morningwas looking through rosy eyelids across a white world. The littleclearing around Peg's cabin was heaped with dazzling drifts, and weboys fell to and shovelled out a road to her well. She gave usbreakfast--stiff oatmeal porridge without milk, and a boiled egg apiece.Cecily could NOT eat her porridge; she declared she had such a badcold that she had no appetite; a cold she certainly had; the rest of uschoked our messes down and after we had done so Peg asked us if we hadnoticed a soapy taste.
"The soap fell into the porridge while I was making it," she said."But,"--smacking her lips,--"I'm going to make yez an Irish stew fordinner. It'll be fine."
An Irish stew concocted by Peg! No wonder Dan said hastily,
"You are very kind but we'll have to go right home."
"Yez can't walk," said Peg.
"Oh, yes, we can. The drifts are so hard they'll carry, and the snowwill be pretty well blown off the middle of the fields. It's onlythree-quarters of a mile. We boys will go home and get a pung and comeback for you girls."
But the girls wouldn't listen to this. They must go with us, evenCecily.
"Seems to me yez weren't in such a hurry to leave last night," observedPeg sarcastically.
"Oh, it's only because they'll be so anxious about us at home, and it'sSunday and we don't want to miss Sunday School," explained Felicity.
"Well, I hope your Sunday School will do yez good," said Peg, rathergrumpily. But she relented again at the last and gave Cecily a wishbone.
"Whatever you wish on that will come true," she said. "But you only havethe one wish, so don't waste it."
"We're so much obliged to you for all your trouble," said the Story Girlpolitely.
"Never mind the trouble. The expense is the thing," retorted Peg grimly.
"Oh!" Felicity hesitated. "If you would let us pay you--give yousomething--"
"No, thank yez," responded Peg loftily. "There is people who take moneyfor their hospitality, I've heerd, but I'm thankful to say I don'tassociate with that class. Yez are welcome to all yez have had here, ifyez ARE in a big hurry to get away."
She shut the door behind us with something of a slam, and her blackcat followed us so far, with stealthy, furtive footsteps, that we werefrightened of it. Eventually it turned back; then, and not till then,did we feel free to discuss our adventure.
"Well, I'm thankful we're out of THAT," said Felicity, drawing a longbreath. "Hasn't it just been an awful experience?"
"We might all have been found frozen stark and stiff this morning,"remarked the Story Girl with apparent relish.
"I tell you, it was a lucky thing we got to Peg Bowen's," said Dan.
"Miss Marwood says there is no such thing as luck," protested Cecily."We ought to say it was Providence instead."
"Well, Peg and Providence don't seem to go together very well, somehow,"retorted Dan. "If Peg is a witch it must be the Other One she's in co.with."
"Dan, it's getting to be simply scandalous the way you talk," saidFelicity. "I just wish ma could hear you."
"Is soap in porridge any worse than tooth-powder in rusks, lovelycreature?" asked Dan.
"Dan, Dan," admonished Cecily, between her coughs, "remember it'sSunday."
"It seems hard to remember that," said Peter. "It doesn't seem a mitelike Sunday and it seems awful long since yesterday."
"Cecily, you've got a dreadful cold," said the Story Girl anxiously.
"In spite of Peg's ginger tea," added Felix.
"Oh, that ginger tea was AWFUL," exclaimed poor Cecily. "I thought I'dnever get it down--it was so hot with ginger--and there was so much ofit! But I was so frightened of offending Peg I'd have tried to drink itall if there had been a bucketful. Oh, yes, it's very easy for you allto laugh! You didn't have to drink it."
"We had to eat two meals, though," said Felicity with a shiver. "And Idon't know when those dishes of hers were washed. I just shut my eyesand took gulps."
"Did you notice the soapy taste in the porridge?" asked the Story Girl.
"Oh, there were so many queer tastes about it I didn't notice one morethan another," answered Felicity wearily.
"What bothers me," remarked Peter absently, "is that skull. Do yousuppose Peg really finds things out by it?"
"Nonsense! How could she?" scoffed Felix, bold as a lion in daylight.
"She didn't SAY she did, you know," I said cautiously.
"Well, we'll know in time if the things she said were going to happendo," mused Peter.
"Do you suppose your father is really coming home?" queried Felicity.
"I hope not," answered Peter decidedly.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Felicity severely.
"No, I oughtn't. Father got drunk all the time he was home, and wouldn'twork and was bad to mother," said Peter defiantly. "She had to supporthim as well as herself and me. I don't want to see any father cominghome, and you'd better believe it. Of course, if he was the right sortof a father it'd be different."
"What I would like to know is if Aunt Olivia is going to be married,"said the Story Girl absently. "I can hardly believe it. But now thatI think of it--Uncle Roger has been teasing her ever since she was inHalifax last summer."
"If she does get married you'll have to come and live with us," saidCecily delightedly.
Felicity did not betray so much delight and the Story Girl remarked witha weary little sigh that she hoped Aunt Olivia wouldn't. We all feltrather weary, somehow. Peg's predictions had been unsettling, and ournerves had all been more or less strained during our sojourn under herroof. We were glad when we found ourselves at home.
The folks had not been at all troubled about us, but it was because theywere sure the storm had come up before we would think of leaving CousinMattie's and not because they had received any mysterious message fromPeg's skull. We were relieved at this, but on the whole, our adventurehad not done much towards clear
ing up the vexed question of Peg'switchcraft.