Us, An Old Fashioned Story

  CHAPTER X.

  A BOAT AND A BABY.

  "And now I _have_ a little boat." _Peter Bell._

  The children were still sleeping when the first straggling feeble raysof dawn began to creep through the darkness. Diana stood at the door ofthe van and looked anxiously at the sunrise. Her experienced eye soonsaw that it was going to be a fine day, and she gave a sigh of relief.She was still dressed as she had been the night before, for she had notslept, not lain down even--so great had been her fear of fallingasleep--at all. She had spent all the dark hours in preparing for theflight of the little prisoners--all that her hands, untrained in suchmatters as sewing and mending, could do to make the twins appear indecent guise on their return to their own home had been done. And nowall was ready. There was nothing to do but to wake them and explain tothem what was before them. Tim was already up and off--for she hadarranged with him to meet the children a little way out of the town, andhe had tapped at the door of the van as he passed.

  There was no one stirring among the queer inhabitants of the fair, asDiana remarked with satisfaction. Everything was perfectly still, andwith a sigh the gipsy girl stepped up into the van again and wentthrough to the inner part. Duke and Pamela were lying much as they hadbeen the evening before. It seemed a pity to wake them, but it had to bedone. Diana stooped down and gently shook Duke's arm.

  "Master," she said,--"master and missy, you must wake up."

  Duke opened his sleepy eyes and stared before him; Pamela, more quicklyawakened, started up, crying:

  "What is it, Diana? It isn't that naughty man come for us?"

  "No, no," said the gipsy, glad to see that Pamela had her wits abouther. "It is that Tim is ready to run away with you, as you've so oftenplanned. And you must get up and dress as quick as you can before Mickor any one is awake, for the man will be coming this morning, and I musthave you ever so far away before then."

  Her words completely aroused both children. In an instant they were ontheir feet, nervously eager to be dressed and off. There was no questionof baths _this_ morning, but Diana washed their faces and hands well,and smoothed their tangled hair.

  "I must make them as tidy as I can," she said to herself with a sob inher throat.

  Duke saw with satisfaction that his nankin suit--which Diana hadpersuaded him not to wear the day before, having lent him a pair oftrowsers of Tim's, which she had washed on purpose, and in which,doubled up nearly to his waist, he looked very funny--was quite clean;and Pamela, to her still greater surprise, found herself attired in atidy little skirt and jacket of dark blue stuff, with a little hood ofthe same for her head.

  "Why, what's this?" she said. "It's a new gown!"

  "I made it," said Diana quietly. "I wanted you to look as tidy as Icould. You'll tell them, missy dear--won't you?--that poor Diana did herbest."

  "Indeed us will," cried both together. But they did not know that thegipsy girl had cut up her one decent dress to clothe little Pamela.

  "And shall us see Grandpapa and Grandmamma to-day?" they went on,hugging Diana in their joy as they spoke.

  "Not to-day, nor to-morrow, but before long, I hope," she replied. Andthen, as they were eager to go, "Won't you say your prayers, master andmissy, that you may come safe to your home; and," she added in a lowvoice, "ask God to show poor Diana how to be good?"

  "Us will always pray for you, dear Diana," they said, after they hadrisen from their knees again, "and some day, you know, you _must_ comeand see us."

  She did not answer, but, quickly lifting them down the steps of thewaggon, locked the door and put the key in her pocket. Then, stillwithout speaking,--the children seeming to understand they must be asquiet as possible,--she lifted Pamela in her arms, and Duke runningbeside, they had soon made their way out of the midst of the vans andcarts and booths, all of whose owners were still asleep.

  For even now it was barely dawn, and the air felt chilly, as isgenerally the case early of a May morning.

  Diana walked so fast, though she had a big basket as well as a littlegirl in her arms, that Duke, though he would not have owned it, couldscarcely keep up with her. But at last, just as he was beginning to feelhe must cry mercy, she slackened her pace and began to look about her.

  "He should be somewhere near," she said, more as if speaking to herselfthan to the children, and just then, with a sort of whoop, out tumbledTim from the other side of a low hedge, where there was a dry ditch inwhich he had been comfortably lying.

  "Hush!" said Diana, glancing round her.

  "There's no need," said Tim; "there's not a soul within hearing. Ineedn't have come on before for that matter. No one saw us start."

  "And which way do you go now?" asked the gipsy, setting Pamela down asshe spoke, to the child's great satisfaction, though she had not likedto say to Diana that she was really too big to be carried.

  "Straight on for about half a mile," answered the boy; "then there's aroad to the right takes us straight to the canal. It's not light enoughyet for you to see, but there's a little house close to the towing pathover there, where the boats often stop the night when it's crowded inthe town. That's where they're to be."

  "All right," said Diana. "I'll go with you to the turn, and then I mustget back as fast as I can."

  "Let me carry the basket," said Tim. He had a bundle under his arm, butit was very light, for his possessions were few.

  "What's in the basket?" asked Duke.

  "All I could get," said Diana. "Some bread and eggs, and some oranges Ibought last night. I thought you'd be glad of them maybe. And Tim, youhave the money safe?"

  Tim nodded his head.

  In a few minutes they reached the road he had spoken of. In silence poorDiana kissed the three children and turned away, for she could notspeak. But Duke and Pamela burst into tears.

  "Oh if you would but come with us," they said over and over again. ButDiana shook her head.

  "You shouldn't cry, master and missy dear, to go to your own home. Itwas a wicked shame to take you from it, but I hope God will forgive methe little I had to do with it, for I've truly done my best to get yousafe back. And you'll ask the kind gentleman and lady to be good to poorTim, and put him in an honest way of life."

  "Oh yes," sobbed the children. And then Diana kissed them again andresolutely turned away. But Tim ran after her.

  "You don't think Mick'll beat you?" he said anxiously.

  "He shan't have the chance," she answered scornfully. "No, no, Tim, I'lltake care of myself. Be a good boy; getting away from us is the bestthing could come to you. And some day maybe I'll have news of you, andyou of me perhaps."

  Tim hastened back to the children, but his merry face was sad and hisheart heavy.

  A short time brought them to the edge of the canal, and there sureenough a boat was moored. There was no one moving about the little houseTim had pointed out, but on board the canal boat two figures were to beseen--or rather three, for they were those of a young man and a youngerwoman with a baby in her arms; and in answer to a whistle from Tim theman came forward and called out cheerfully, "Good morning; is it allright?"

  "All right," called back Tim, and then he turned to the children.

  "We're going in this boat, master and missy. See, won't it be fine fun,sailing away along the canal?"

  Pamela seemed a little frightened.

  "You're sure he won't take us to that naughty man?" she said, holdingTim's hand tight.

  "Bless you, no; it's to get away from him we're going in the boat.Peter--that's the name of the man there--Peter's promised to take us asfar as he goes towards Sandle'ham. It's such a piece of luck as neverwas to have come across him; he's the cousin of the boy I told you ofwho let me stay in his boat when I was a little 'un."

  "Oh," cried the children,--"oh yes, us remembers that story. It was aboy and his mother. And was it a boat just like this, Tim?"

  "Not near so clean and tidy. This one's been all new painted, don't yousee? It's as clean as clean. But we
must be quick. Peter and I'll jumpyou in. He's all ready to start. There's the horse a-waiting."

  Duke was quite content, but Pamela still hung back a little.

  "Us has never been in a boat," she said.

  "Come on," called out Peter, and the young woman with the baby cameforward with a smile.

  "You must look sharp," said Peter, in what was meant to be anencouraging tone. "The morning's getting on, you know," he added to Tim,"and if those folk down yonder took it in their heads to come this wayit'd be awk'ard."

  "I know," said Tim, and lifting Duke in his arms he handed him over toPeter, thinking Pamela would be sure to follow. So she was, for shewould have gone after "bruvver" down the crater of Vesuvius itself I dobelieve, but she looked white and trembled, and whispered piteously,

  "I am so frightened, Tim."

  "But it's better than if Mick had cotched us, and you'd had to go tothat Signor man, missy," said Tim encouragingly.

  This appealed to Pamela's common sense, and in a few minutes she seemedquite happy. For Peter's wife introduced her to the baby, and as it wasreally rather a nice baby--much cleaner than one could have expected tofind one of its species on a canal boat--the little girl soon found it amost interesting object of study. She had seldom seen little babies, andher pride was great when its mother proposed to her to hold it on herown knee, and even allowed her to pull off its socks to count forherself its ten little round rosy buttons of toes. The toes proved toomuch for Duke, who had hitherto stood rather apart, considering himself,as a boy, beyond the attractions of dolls and babies. But when Timeven--great grown-up, twelve years old Tim--knelt down to admire thetiny feet at Pamela's call, Duke condescended to count the toes one byone for himself, and to say what a pity it was Toby was not here--babycould ride so nicely on Toby's back, couldn't she? This idea, expressedwith the greatest gravity, set Peter and his wife off laughing, and allfive, or six if baby is to be included, were soon the best friends inthe world.

  "How nice it is here," said Pamela; "I'm not frightened now, Tim; only Iwish Diana could have come. It's so much nicer than in the waggon. Youdon't think Mick will find out where us is, do you, Tim?" and a littleshudder passed through her.

  "Oh no, no; no fear," said Tim, but her words reminded him and Peterthat they were by no means "out of the wood." Peter was far from anxiousfor a fight with the gipsies, whose lawless ways he knew well; andbesides this, being a kind-hearted though rough fellow, he had alreadybegun to feel an interest in the stolen children for their own sake;though no doubt his consent to take them as passengers had been won bythe promises of reward Tim had not hesitated to hold out.

  He and the boy looked at each other.

  "We must be starting," said the bargeman, and he turned to jump ashoreand attach the towing ropes to the patient horse. "You must keep them inthe cabin for a while," he said to his wife. "They mustn't risk beingseen till we're a long way out of Crookford."

  Duke and Pamela looked up, but without clearly understanding what theirnew host said. And Tim, who saw that Peter's queer accent puzzled them,was not sorry. He did not want them to be frightened; he was frightenedenough himself to do for all three, he reflected, and they were so goodand biddable he could keep them quiet without rousing their fears. For,though he could not have explained his own feelings, it somehow went tothe boy's heart to see the two little creatures already looking happierand more peaceful than he had ever seen them! Why should they not bequite happy? They were going to Grandpapa and Grandmamma and Toby; theyhad no longer cruel Mick to fear; they had Tim to take care ofthem--only the thought of poor Diana left behind made them a little sad!

  "It is so nice here," repeated Pamela, when Tim's words had completelyreassured her. "But I'm rather hungry. Us hadn't any breakfast, youknow, Tim. Mightn't us, have some of the bread in the basket."

  "I've got some bread and some fresh milk," said Mrs. Peter. "I got themilk just before you came; the girl at the 'Rest'"--the 'Rest' was thelittle house where the canal boats stopped--"fetched it early."

  "Oh, us would like some milk," said the children eagerly.

  "Come into the cabin then, and you'll show me what you have in yourbasket," said the young woman; and thus the children were easilypersuaded to put themselves in hiding.

  The cabin was but one room, though with what in a house would have beencalled a sort of "lean-to," large enough to hold a bed. All was, ofcourse, very tidy, but so much neater and, above all, cleaner than thegipsies' van that Duke and Pamela thought it delightful. The boat hadbeen newly repaired and painted, and besides this, Peter's wife--thoughshe could neither read nor write and had spent all her life on a canalboat--was quite a wonder in her love of tidiness and cleanliness.

  "I'd like to live here always," said Pamela, whose spirits rose stillhigher when she had had some nice fresh milk and bread.

  "Not without Grandpapa and Grandmamma," said Duke reproachfully.

  "Oh no, of course not," said Pamela. "But there wouldn't be quite enoughroom for them in here, would there, Mrs. Peter?"

  "I am afraid not," she replied. "You see there's only one bed. But we'vemade a nice place for you, master and missy, in here," and she drew backa clean cotton curtain in one corner, behind which, on a sort of settle,Peter and she had placed one of their mattresses so as to make a niceshake-down. "You'll sleep very well in here, don't you think?"

  "Oh yes," exclaimed the children, "us will be very comfortable. Whatnice clean sheets!" continued Pamela; "it makes me fink of our whitebeds at home," and her voice grew rather doleful, as if she were goingto cry.

  "But you've no need to cry about your home _now_, missy dear," said Tim."You're on the way there."

  "Yes, how silly I am!" said Pamela. "I fink I forgot. It's such a longtime ago since us slept in a nice clean bed with sheets. I wish it wastime to go to bed now."

  "I think it would be a very good plan if you and master was to take alittle sleep. You must be tired getting up so early," suggested Mrs.Peter, devoutly hoping they would agree to let themselves be quietlystowed away behind the checked cotton curtain. For poor Mrs. Peter wasdreadfully afraid of the gipsies, and her motive in agreeing to befriendTim and the children was really far more the wish to save them from thehands they had fallen among than any hope of reward.

  "I'd rather bury baby, bless her, any day, than think of her amongsuch," she had said on hearing the story.

  Duke and Pamela looked longingly at the "nice white sheets." They wereboth, to tell the truth, very sleepy, but dignity had to be considered.

  "It's only babies that go to bed in the day, Nurse says," objected Duke."She said so one day that us got into our beds, and she said us haddirtied them with our shoes. Us had been playing in the garden."

  "But you've no need to keep your shoes on," said Mrs. Peter. "And many abig person's very glad to take a sleep in the day, when they're tiredand have been up very early maybe."

  So at last the twins allowed themselves to be persuaded, and Mrs.Peter's heart, and Tim's too, for that matter, were considerably lighterwhen the curtain was drawn forward and no trace of the little passengerswas to be seen. Tim, following the young woman's advice, curled himselfup in a corner where he was easily hidden.

  "And now," said Mrs. Peter, "I'll just go up on the deck as usual, sothat if any boats pass us who know us by sight, they'll never thinkwe've any runaways on board; though for my part I can't see as thatMick'd dare to make much stir, seeing as he might be had up for stealingthem."

  "It's not him I'm so much afeared of as that Signor," said Tim. "He'ssuch a terrible sharp one, Diana says."

  "But the perlice must be after the children by now," persisted Mrs.Peter. "And every one far and wide knows of Crookford Fair and thegipsies that comes to it."

  "P'raps they've never thought of gipsies," said Tim; and in this, as weknow, he was about right.

  The day passed peacefully. They met several boats making for Crookford,who hailed them as usual, and they were overtaken by one or two othersmaking their w
ay more quickly, because towed by two horses. But whetheror not there had been any inquiry among the canal people at Crookfordafter the children, Peter and his party were left unmolested, and thesight of his wife and baby as usual on the deck would have prevented anyone suspecting anything out of the common.

  It was late afternoon when the three--for Tim had slept as soundly asthe others--awoke. At first, in their nest behind the curtain, Duke andPamela could not imagine where they were--then the touch and sight ofthe clean sheets recalled their memory.

  "Oh, bruvver, aren't you glad?" said Pamela. "I wonder what o'clock itis, and if we've come a long way. Oh, I'm so hungry! I wonder where Timis!"

  Up jumped the boy like a faithful hound at the sound of his own name.

  "Here I am, missy," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I've been asleep too--itmakes one sleepy, I think, the smooth way the boat slips along."

  "Not like the jogging and jolting in the van," said Duke. "I'm hungrytoo, Tim," he added.

  "Just stop where you are a bit while I go out on the deck and see," saidthe boy.

  He made his way cautiously, peeping out before he let himself be seen.The coast was clear, however. Mrs. Peter was knitting tranquilly, babyasleep on her knee--Peter himself enjoying an afternoon pipe.

  For it was already afternoon.

  "You've had a good nap, all on you," said the young woman, smiling. "Ithought you'd 'a wakened up for your dinner. But I looked in two orthree times and the little dears was sleeping like angels in apicture--so Peter and I we thought it would be a pity to disturb you.Had you so far to come this morning?

  "Not far at all," said Tim. "I cannot think what made me so sleepy, normaster and missy neither. Perhaps it's the being so quiet-like hereafter all the flurry of getting off and thinking they'd be after us.It's not often I sleep past my dinner time."

  "I've kep' it for you," said Mrs. Peter. "There's some baked 'taters hotin the pan, and maybe the little master and missy'd like one of theireggs."

  "I'm sure they would," said Tim; "a hegg and a baked 'tater's a dinnerfor a king. And there's the oranges for a finish up."

  And he skipped back merrily to announce the good news.

  The dinner was thoroughly approved of by Duke and Pamela, and after theyhad eaten it they were pleased at being allowed to stay on the deck ofthe boat, and to run about and amuse themselves as they chose, for theyhad now left Crookford so far behind them that Peter and his wife didnot think it likely any one would be coming in pursuit.

  "They'd 'a been after us by now if they'd been coming," said Peter. "Ahorse'd have overtook us long afore this, and not going so very fastnayther."

  The children had not enjoyed so much liberty for many weary days, andtheir merry laughter was heard all over the boat, as they playedhide-and-seek with Tim, or paddled their hands in the clear water,leaning over the sides of the boat. For they were now quite out in thecountry, and the canal bore no traces of the dirt of the town. It was avery pretty bit of country too through which they were passing; andthough the little brother and sister were too young to have admired oreven noticed a beautiful landscape of large extent, they were delightedwith the meadows dotted over with daisies and buttercups, and the woodsin whose recesses primroses and violets were to be seen, through whichthey glided.

  "I DO FINK WHEN US IS QUITE BIG AND CAN DO AS US LIKES,US MUST HAVE A BOAT LIKE THIS, AND ALWAYS GO SAILING ALONG."--p. 195.]

  "I do fink when us is quite big and can do as us likes, us must have aboat like this, and always go sailing along," said Pamela, when,half-tired with her play, she sat down beside the baby and its mother.

  "But it isn't always summer, or beautiful bright weather like this,missy," said the young woman. "It's not such a pleasant life in winteror even in wet weather. Last week even it was sadly cold. I hardly durstlet baby put her nose out of the cabin."

  "Then us'd only sail in the boat in fine weather," said Pamelaphilosophically, to which of course there was nothing to be said.

  The next two days passed much in the same way. The sunshine fortunatelycontinued, and the children saw no reason to change their opinion of thecharms of canal life, especially as now and then Peter landed them onthe banks for a good run in the fields. And through all was thedelightful feeling that they were "going home."