CHAPTER III.
AUF DAS WASSER ZU SINGEN
"HARRY MONMOUTH!" said Colonel Ferrers. "This is pleasant. Merryweather,you are a lucky dog!" As he spoke, he looked around him, and repeated,"A lucky dog, sir!"
The horn had just blown for supper, three long blasts, and already thecampers were in their places at the long table, with its shining whitecover. Mr. and Mrs. Merryweather, their six children, Bell, Gertrude,and Kitty, Gerald, Philip, and Willy, the two Montforts, with theColonel and his nephew, made a party of twelve, and filled the tablecomfortably, though there was still room for more. The room was a longone, with a vast open fireplace stretching half across one side. At oneend were rows of book-shelves, filled to overflowing; at the other, thewalls were adorned with models for boats, sketches in water-color andpen and ink, birds' nests, curious fungi, and all manner of odds andends. It was certainly a cheerful room, and so Miles Merryweatherthought, as his eyes followed the Colonel's.
"We like it!" he said, simply. "It suits us, the place and the life.It's good for young and old both, to get away from hurry and bustle, andlive for a time the natural life."
"Nature, sir!" said the Colonel. "Nature! that's it; nothing like it!When I was a lad, young men were sent abroad, after their school orcollege course; the grand tour, Paris, Vienna, that sort of thing: verygood thing in its way, too, monstrous good thing. But before he sees theworld, sir, a lad should know how to live, as you say, the natural life.Ought to know what a tree is when he sees it; upon my soul, he ought.Now my milksop--best fellow in the world, I give you my word, exceptthat little fellow at home there--well, sir! when he came to me, hedidn't know the difference between an oak and an elm, give you my wordhe didn't. Remember one day--he heard me giving directions to Giuseppeabout cutting some ashes--clump of them in the field below the house,needed thinning out--and he wanted to know how ashes could be cut;thought I meant those in the fireplace, sir. Monstrous! Well, I taughthim a little, and you and your young folks have taught him a great deal.H'm! I don't know that he is now more disgracefully ignorant thannine-tenths of the young men of his age. Set of noodles! I'll tell youwhat, Merryweather! You ought to have a kind of summer school here: getother boys, a dozen, two dozen; teach 'em to see with their eyes, andall the rest of it. I knew a boy once who thought a bat was a bird, giveyou my word I did. And another who thought oysters grew on bushes. Getup a school, sir, and I'll come myself, and be a boy again."
"That is a great inducement," said Mr. Merryweather, laughing: "but,Colonel, I hope you have brought a boy's appetite with you, at least.Who are the cooks to-night, Miranda? Oh, I see; Bell and Jack. Well,that is all right, Colonel; they make one of our best combinations. Whathave you there, Jack?"
Jack, in a white cap, and an apron reaching not quite half-way to hisknees, advanced bearing a mighty dish, from which rose fragrant steam.
"H'm! ha!" said the Colonel, sniffing. "Smells good! you had no hand inthis, I'll be bound, sir!"
"Indeed, Colonel Ferrers," said Bell, who followed with the teapot and aplate piled high with feathery rolls, "it is all Jack's doing, everybit. It is his famous pilaff, that the old Greek professor taught himto make in Germany; and it is almost the best thing you ever tasted inyour life."
"H'm!" said the Colonel, frowning heavily, and looking immenselypleased. "So this is what he was doing while he was supposed to bestudying. I always knew the rascal was deceiving me. Ha! it _is_ good;it's uncommon good! So you did learn something besides fiddling, eh,Jack?"
"Cooking is a part of chemistry, Uncle," said Jack, soberly; "a veryimportant part. This dish is chemically prepared, sir; please regard itas a demonstration!"
"And please try my fried potatoes as a further demonstration!" saidBell. "Margaret, you are not eating anything."
"She never does!" said Peggy.
"Oh!" cried Margaret, "but I never ate so much before. Oh, please not!"as Phil tried to heap her plate with potatoes. "They are delicious, butI really cannot!"
"I can!" said Gertrude, holding out her plate.
"I'll warrant you!" said Phil. "No one doubted that, sweet Chuck!"
"We do not look for the Camp Appetite till after twenty-four hours,"said Mrs. Merryweather. "Give Margaret time! in two days she will eattwice as much as she does now."
"Harry Monmouth!" exclaimed the Colonel. "At that rate, it is fortunatefor you all that I do not outstay my two days. Twice as much as I ameating now would clear your larder, dear madam. Yes, thanks,Merryweather, a little more!"
"Oh, Colonel Ferrers!"
"Oh, Uncle Tom! you are not going away in two days? We counted on a weekat least!" cried all in chorus.
"Impossible, dear people, impossible! Like nothing better; enchanted tostay all summer; delightful place. But--Elizabeth Beadle's condition,you understand; and the boy--I must get back. He is too young to havethe responsibility. Most amazing boy in the world; I haven't theslightest doubt that he is doing her more good than all the doctors inthe world--parcel of fools, mostly--but still he is too young; I mustget back."
"Let me go, Uncle!" said Jack.
"Or me, Colonel Ferrers!" cried Gertrude. "Any one of us would love togo!"
The Colonel beamed on them with his kindliest smile, but shook his headresolutely. "Thanks! thanks!" he said, heartily. "Good children! kindand thoughtful children! but I must go. Couldn't be easy, youunderstand."
"The fact is," said Jack, "Uncle Tom cannot be comfortable for more thantwenty-four hours away from Hugh. After that length of time he becomesrestive, and symptoms develop which--"
"Hold your tongue, sir!" cried the Colonel. "Nothing of the sort, sir!Mrs. Merryweather, I hoped you were teaching this fellow bettermanners. Symptoms, indeed! You have seen no symptoms in me, of anythingexcept pure pleasure--pleasure in everything except the gabbling of agoose!"
"Surely not, dear friend!" said Mrs. Merryweather, laughing. "But allthe same, I think I should not try to detain you when once you had madeup your mind that Hugh needed you."
"All against me!" cried the Colonel. "'The little dogs and all'--I begten thousand pardons, my dear madam; you know the quotation! Well," headded, his face changing suddenly as he turned to Mrs. Merryweather andspoke in a lower tone, "fortunate old fellow, eh? to have one youngface--two, perhaps, for my Giraffe loves me too--brighten when onecomes. Ah! you, with all your wealth--richest woman of my acquaintance,give you my honor!--cannot tell what these boys mean to me. Hilda, too:most astonishing how I miss that child! but all your young people are sogood to me--"
"Colonel!" cried Gertrude from the other end of the table. "Will youcome with me in my canoe after tea?"
"Will I?" cried the Colonel. "Won't I? Lead the way, my dear!"
* * * * *
The young moon shone bright; the lake lay a broad sheet of luminousblack, with a silver path stretching across it. Four canoes lay besidethe wharf, and the campers were taking their places. In the birch canoe,the original _Cheemaun_, Mrs. Merryweather was going as passenger, withher husband and Phil at bow and stern; in the _Nahma_ was ColonelFerrers, with Gertrude and Peggy; Kitty and Willy in the _Rob Roy_,Gerald and Margaret in the _Wenonah_.
"All ready?" asked the chief. "Where shall we go? Where are Jack andBell?"
"Oh, they started ahead," said Phil. "They had some stunt on hand, andwe are to meet them over by the Black Shore."
"Ready--give way all!"
The paddles dipped, the canoes shot out along the silver path, glidingswift and silent as spirits. For a time no one spoke. The _Cheemaun_,with the powerful arms at either end, took the lead and kept it easily:next came the _Nahma_ and the _Rob_, nearly abreast, and vying with eachother; but the _Wenonah_ lagged behind, and seemed in no special hurry.
"Like it?" asked Gerald, presently.
"Oh!" said Margaret, softly.
Gerald gave a little grunt of content, and was silent again. The paddledipped noiseless in the liquid silver, the dark prow crept noiselessalong the shining way.
"It is another world!" said Margaret presently, still speaking under herbreath. "I never dreamed of anything like it. A silver world! Oh!"
"What is it?"
"Nothing--I was only thinking--one ought to be very good, to live in aworld so beautiful as this, Gerald!"
"Some of us are, Margaret!"
Silence again.
"I'm awfully glad you like it!" said Gerald. "I hoped you would.I've--I've been looking forward all summer to your coming."
"I was very glad to come," said Margaret, simply. "I was afraid, but Iwas glad, too."
"Afraid? I should like to know what you were afraid of!"
"Oh--I don't know! I have never been with many people, you know. I havenever seen a large family together before. How happy you all are!"
"That's what we are!" said Gerald. "Especially now! I say, Margaret! thechild Toots has fallen a victim."
"Fallen a--what do you mean, Gerald? not into the water?"
"Charms!" said Gerald. "Yours. Bowled her over completely. Nice child,the child Toots. Think so?"
"I think she looks as good as she is beautiful," said Margaret. "Doesshe really like me? I am very glad, for I know I shall love her."
"Don't you think she is the image of me?" asked Gerald, plaintively.
"No, I never thought of it!" said downright Margaret. "Oh! hark, Gerald;what is that? I hear music."
They listened. Directly in front of them lay a deep black shadow, andforth from this shadow stole notes of music, low, sweet, almostunearthly in their purity and clearness.
"Evidently the stunt of Tintinnabula and the Camelopard!" said Gerald."That is the Black Shore yonder, and the noise is that of theTree-browser's fiddle, in sooth a goodly noise. Approach we along themoonglade! that is what we call the wake here. Pretty?"
"Lovely!" murmured Margaret. "Oh! but hush, and listen!"
The other canoes had slackened their speed, and now all four crept onabreast over the luminous water. From the black shadow ahead forms beganto detach themselves, black rocks, dark trees stooping to the water'sedge, fir and pine, with here and there a white birch glimmeringghostlike; and still the music rose, ever clearer and sweeter, thrillingon the silent air. It seemed no voice of anything made by man; it was asif the trees spoke, the rocks, the water, the very silence itself. Butnow--now another tone was heard; a human voice this time, a full, richcontralto, blending with the aerial notes of the violin.
"Over all the mountains is peace; Among the tree-tops Hardly a breath is stirring; The birds are silent, Silent in the woodland; Only wait! only wait! Soon thou too shalt rest."
"Harry Monmouth!" murmured the Colonel under his breath. "Am I alive, oris this the gate of Heaven?"
"Oh! who is it?" whispered Margaret.
"Tintinnabula! rather a neat thing in voices, the Tintinnabula's. Nordoes the song altogether excite to strenutation. Ah! but that is thebest yet!"
The notes changed. It was Schubert's Serenade now that rose from voiceand violin together. No one stirred. The canoes were now close inshore,and the long, soft fingers of fir and cedar brushed Margaret's cheek asshe sat motionless, spellbound. It was a world of soft darkness, blackupon black: the silver world they had just left seemed almost garish asshe looked back on it. Here in the cool shadow, the voices of the nightpouring forth their wonderful melody--"Oh!" she thought; "if this mightlast forever!"
But it was over. Floating round a great rock that stretched far out fromthe shore, they came upon the musicians, their canoe drawn up close tothe rock.
"Here they are!" cried Willy. "It's Bell and Jack, Kitty; I knew it was.You are such a silly!"
"I don't care!" pouted Kitty. "It did sound like nymphs; I am sure thatis just the way they sound."
"You are quite right, Kitty," said her mother. "Children, you have givenus a great treat. May we not have some more?"
"Oh, we were only waiting for you," said Bell; "now we must havechoruses, many of them!"
And lying close together, the paddles stretched across from one canoe toanother, the Merryweathers sang, to Jack's accompaniment, song aftersong in chorus: German student songs, with merry refrain of "_vivallerala_" and "_juch heira sa sa!_" Scottish ballads and quaint old Highlandboat-songs; till Mr. Merryweather declared that it was time to go home.
So home they went, down the moonglade once more, across the glimmeringfloor of the lake, singing as they went; till, twinkling through thefringe of trees, they saw the lights of the Camp, and the long outlineof the float, and the boats swinging at their moorings.