Esther's Charge: A Story for Girls

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER III.

  AN ANXIOUS CHARGE.

  "How quiet they are!" thought Esther, as she dressed herself nextmorning. "I daresay they are fast asleep still. They must be tired afterthat long journey yesterday. They shall sleep as long as they like thismorning. I will tell Genefer not to call them. They are funny boys, butI think I shall soon get fond of them. Puck is so pretty, and looks asthough he could be very good by himself. I hope we shall be happytogether soon. I shall take care of them, and show them everything; andperhaps they will teach me some new games."

  Genefer came in at this moment to brush out Esther's mane of hair. Thelittle girl had dispensed with other help at her toilet, but the great,thick, waving mass of curly hair was beyond her strength, and Genefertook great pride in brushing and combing it. She was almost as proud ofEsther's hair as Mrs. St. Aiden herself.

  "O Genefer," said the little girl, "I think we won't call the boys yet.They seem quite quiet, and I daresay they are asleep. We will let themhave their sleep out this first morning."

  Genefer made a sound between a snort and a laugh.

  "Lord love you, miss, them boys have been up and out this two hours!They were off before ever I was down, and I'm no lie-a-bed. They had gotthe door opened and were away to the pine wood. Old Sam he saw themscuttling up the path like a pair of rabbits. There'll be no holdingthat pair, I can see. Boys will be boys, as I always did say."

  Esther's face was full of anxiety and trouble.

  "O Genefer! and they don't know their way about a bit! And all theholes, and crags, and rocks on the other side! Perhaps some harm willcome to them, and I promised to take care of them! Oh, please, let mego, and I'll run after them and see if I can't fetch them home! Theysaid something about the sea last night. Suppose they fall into one ofthe pools and get drowned!"

  But Genefer only gave another snort.

  "You take my word for it. Miss Esther, them boys isn't born to bedrowned. Now don't you worrit so, child. They'll be all right. That sortnever comes to any harm. You might as well go looking for a needle in ahaystack, as for a boy out on the spree, as they call it. You go downand get your breakfast, and take up your mama's. We'll have them downagain safe and sound, and as hungry as hunters, before you're done. It'snot a bit of good your worriting after them. They can take good care ofthemselves, as one can see with half an eye."

  Esther always submitted to Genefer's judgment, but it was with ananxious heart that she went down-stairs, and gazed up at the pine-cladhillside, hoping to see some signs of the returning boys. But there wasnothing visible, and she went into the dining-room with a grave face,feeling as though she had somehow been unfaithful to her charge.

  Breakfast at the Hermitage was at nine o'clock, and Esther always tookup the tray to her mother's room. Mrs. St. Aiden seldom came down-stairsbefore noon, though she talked of getting up earlier now that the summerwas coming. But Esther was fond of waiting on her, and she liked beingwaited upon. Afterwards Esther would eat her solitary breakfast, with abook propped up in front of her on the table; and she never thought ofbeing lonely, especially as Smut always sat on a chair beside her, andhad his saucer of milk replenished each time she poured out her own teaafresh.

  But to-day Esther did not get her book; she was much too anxious, andkept rising and walking over to the window every few minutes, rather tothe discomfort of the placid cat, who could not think what had come tohis little mistress that day.

  Esther was thankful that her mother had not seemed much alarmed by thenews that the boys had gone out for a walk before breakfast.

  "Boys like that sort of thing, I suppose," she said. "Their father saidthey were active and independent, and that we must not make ourselvesanxious over them needlessly." Then she had taken up her letters andbegun to read them; and Esther stole away, wishing she could be as calmand tranquil over the disappearance of the boys as other people were.

  "I'm sure they have gone up to the Crag," she kept saying to herself,"and they may have got into some awful place, and all sorts of thingsmay be happening!"

  Esther could not have explained to Genefer or anybody grown up herhorror and misgiving respecting the vicinity of the Crag; but it was avery real terror to her, and it had become greater since she had heardBertie's account of the electric eye, and other awful things which werelikely to be going on there now. Mr. Trelawny had an assistant now, andwas going to do still stranger things. Suppose he wanted blood, orbrains, or something human for his experiments! She shivered at the barethought.

  Suddenly she jumped up with a stifled cry. Through the open window sheheard the sound of steps and voices; but before she had time to reachit again, the sunlight was darkened by the approach of a tall figure,and Esther saw that the missing boys were being led home by Mr. Earle,who had his hand upon the collar of each, as though he had found them aslippery pair of customers, and was resolved that they should not escapehim.

  "Here are your boys, Miss Esther," he remarked, walking in anddepositing each of them upon the chair set ready at table for him. "Ihope you have not been anxious about this pair of young rascals; andwill you tell your mother, with my compliments, that I am ready to beginregular study with you all any day she may like to send word! You neednot wait till next week unless you like."

  There was rather a grim smile upon Mr. Earle's face, and the roundspectacles glinted in the sunshine till Esther thought they mustcertainly be "electric eyes"--though what electric eyes were she had notthe faintest notion, which, however, did not tend to allay heruneasiness.

  "Thank you, sir," she said rather faintly; "I will tell mother." Thenshe plucked up her courage to add, "May I give you a cup of coffeeafter your walk?"

  "Thank you; but I have breakfasted already," answered Mr. Earle with asmile, which made Esther just a little less afraid of him. "We keepearly hours up at the Crag; and a good thing too for these youngsinners!" and he threw a scathing look at the boys, who were sittingmarvelously quiet in their places, looking exceedingly demure, not tosay sheepish, though they stole glances across the table at each other,showing that the spirit of mischief within them was only temporarily inabeyance.

  Mr. Earle nodded to them all and walked off through the window, andEsther looked curiously at her two charges as she poured out the coffee.

  "Where did you go?" she asked.

  "Why, up to Old Bobby's of course!" answered Pickle, his mouth full ofbread and butter. "Why can't we live up there, instead of in this littleband-box? It's no end of a jolly place. Do you go often?"

  "Not very," answered Esther with a little shiver.

  "That's what he said," remarked Puck indistinctly, "but you'll have tocome oftener now."

  "Why?"

  "Oh, because he said we might come as often as you brought us. I want togo every day."

  "I don't think Mr. Trelawny would like that."

  "Oh, he wouldn't mind. He said he didn't mind how many visits you paidhim. He said little girls were worth twice as much as boys, but that'sall tommy rot."

  Esther's eyes opened rather wider.

  "I don't know what tommy rot is," she said.

  Puck burst out laughing.

  "She doesn't know much, does she, Pickle?" he cried. "I wonder why OldBobby likes girls better than boys?"

  "Perhaps they're nicer to eat," suggested Pickle; and the two boys wentoff into fits of laughter, whilst Esther shook silently, wondering ifthat could have anything to do with it.

  To judge by their appetites, the boys were none the worse for theirmorning's walk--they put away the food in a fashion that astonishedEsther; but as she sat watching them at their meal, she noticed somevery queer marks upon their clothes, which she did not think had beenthere last night--stains, and little holes, looking rather like burns;and presently she asked,--

  "What have you been doing to yourselves?" and pointed to the marks.

  Puck began to giggle, and Pickle answered boldly,--

  "Oh, I suppose that must have been some of the stuff that smelt so nastyin the
tanks."

  "What tanks?"

  "Don't you know? Haven't you ever been down there? In that jolly oldcave under Old Bobby's house."

  Esther felt a cold thrill creeping through her.

  "I don't know what you mean," she said faintly.

  "Well, you must be a precious ninny!" laughed Pickle, with agood-humored contempt; "fancy living here all these years, and notknowing that!"

  "We haven't been here so very long," said Esther.

  "Well, you've been here longer than we have anyhow. And we've found itout already."

  She was shivering a little, yet was consumed by curiosity.

  "Tell me about it," she said.

  Pickle was quite ready to do that. He had appeased his first hunger, andhe loved to hear himself talk, especially when he had an appreciativeaudience; and Esther's eager and half-frightened face bespoke thekeenness of her interest.

  "Well, you see, we woke up early, and didn't see any fun in lying inbed; so we got up and dressed and went out, and there was the path upthrough the wood, and we knew Old Bobby's house was somewhere up there.So it seemed a good plan just to go and look him up, you know."

  "We often go out early at home," added Puck, "and look people up.Sometimes we wake them up throwing things into their windows, or atthem, if they're shut. Sometimes they throw water at us, and that'sawful fun. One old fellow did that, and we went and got the garden-hose,and his window was wide open, and we just soused his room with water.You should have seen him rushing to shut it up! But there isn't alwaysa hose and pump handy," and he looked pathetic for a moment.

  "Well," continued Pickle, "we got up the hill easy enough, and it was ajolly place. We forgot all about going to the house, there was such lotsto see and explore. That was how we found the cave--poking about allover. There are no end of little crevasses and things--places you canswarm down and climb up again. We had a fine time amongst them; and thenwe found this one. We climbed down the chimney, but there are two moreways of getting in. Old Bobby came by one, and turned us out by theother."

  "I've heard him speak of an underground place," said Esther in a lowvoice. "He said he'd show it to me, but I didn't want to go."

  Puck stared at her in amaze.

  "Why on earth not?" he asked.

  "I thought it would be dark," she said, not caring to explain further;and both boys laughed.

  "It is rather dark; but not so very when you've got used to it," saidPickle, "and boys don't mind that sort of thing. I don't know where thelight gets in; but there are cracks, he said. Anyhow we got down aqueer, narrow hole like a chimney, and dropped right down into a sort ofhuge fireplace--big enough to cook half a dozen men."

  "O Pickle!"

  "Well, it was. I expect, perhaps, they did cook men there in the oldentimes--when people were persecuted, you know, and they had places fortorturing them," remarked Pickle, who had a boy's relish for horrors."That sort of place would be just the very thing. And afterwardssmugglers had it, and I daresay they murdered the excisemen in there ifthey got a chance. I never saw such queer marks as there were on thestones--did you, Puck? I should think they must be human blood. You knowthat won't wash out if it has once been spilt when there's a murder.I've read lots of stories about that. If you only cut yourself, itdoesn't seem to leave a stain; but that's different from murder."

  Esther's face was as white as her frock. Pickle enjoyed the impressionhe was producing.

  "Well, I don't know what they use the cave for now, but something veryqueer anyhow. I never saw such odd things as they have got; it was justlike the places you read of about wizards and magicians and the thingsthey do. And there were tanks with lids, and we took off the lids andlooked in, and they did smell. We put our fingers into some of them, andthey smelt worse. And one of them burnt me!" and Pickle held up a coupleof bandaged fingers as though in proof of his assertion.

  "Old Bobby tied them up," said Puck. "He said it served Pickle right formeddling. He was in a rage with us for getting in and looking at histhings. I expect he's got his enemies pickling in those tanks. I expecthe's lured them to his cave and murdered them, and hidden them away, sothat the stuff will eat them all up, and nobody will find their bodies.That's what I should like to do to all the nasty people when I'm a man.When you have a sort of castle on a crag, with underground caves to it,you can do just as you like, you know."

  "How did Mr. Trelawny find you?" asked Esther, who was all in a tremorat this confirmation of her own suspicions--suspicions she had scarcelydared to admit even to herself.

  "Well, I'm coming to that," said Pickle; "it wasn't very long afterwe'd been down. We heard a funny scrunching noise somewhere upoverhead, and then a sort of hollow echoing sound. We couldn't makeit out at first, but soon we knew what it must be. It was stepscoming down-stairs--tramp, tramp, tramp--nearer and nearer."

  "O Pickle! weren't you frightened?"

  "Well, not exactly; but we thought we'd better hide in case it might besmugglers, or murderers, or something. There wasn't time to get up thechimney again, and I'm not sure if you can get out that way, though youcan get down easy enough. Anyhow it would take some time. So we crouchedbehind a big stone and waited; and there were two men coming downtalking to each other, and their voices echoed up and down and made suchfunny noises; and when they got down into the cave, it was Old Bobbyhimself, and that owl fellow who brought us home."

  "Mr. Earle," said Esther.

  "Earle or owl--what's the odds? I shall call him the Owl; he's just likeone with those round gig-lamps. Well, they came down together, and then,of course, we knew it was all right; so out we jumped with ascreech--and I say, Puck, didn't we scare them too?"

  Both boys went off into fits of laughter at the recollection of thestart they had given their seniors, and then Pickle took up the threadof the tale.

  "But Old Bobby was in a jolly wax too. He boxed both of us on the ears,and told us we'd no business there--"

  "He was afraid we'd found out something about the pickled corpses,"interrupted Puck. "People never like that sort of thing found out; but,of course, we shouldn't go telling about it--at least only to a fewspecial people.

  "He went on at us ever so long, calling us little trespassers and spies,and wondering we had not killed ourselves; and then he led us along afunny sort of passage, and out through a door in the hillside rightunder the house. But they hadn't come in that way. They had come down alot of steps; so we know that the cave is just under the house, and thatOld Bobby and the Owl get to it by a private way of their own. But Icould find the door we went out by easily, though there is a great bushin front of it, and you can't see it when you've got a few paces off."

  "And there's a path right down to the sea," cried Puck. "It's a regularsmugglers' den. He got less cross when we were out, and told us a lot ofthings about smugglers. But he said we weren't ever to come thereagain--at least not alone. He said you might bring us, if we'd give ourword of honor to obey you. He seemed to want you to come, Tousle. I'msure I don't know why, for girls are no good in jolly places like that."

  "I don't think I want to go," answered Esther, putting it as mildly aspossible; "I don't like underground places."

  But she wanted the boys to enjoy themselves; and after breakfast sheasked leave to take them as far as the fishing village that nestledunder the crags upon which Mr. Trelawny's house stood. Of course therewas another way to it along the road, which, though longer, was easierwalking than climbing the hill and scrambling down the crags on theother side. The boys were willing to go the less adventurous way, asthey had explored the cliff already, and Esther felt more light ofheart, thinking that along the road they could not come to any harm.

  But she was soon to realize that some boys find facilities for mischiefand pranks wherever they are. The mercurial spirits of her charges kepther in a constant flutter of anxiety. They would get under horses' feet,climb up into strange carts to chat with the carters, jump over brooks,heedless of wet feet, chase the beasts at pasture as fearlessly as they
chased butterflies, and make the acquaintance of every dog they met,whether amiable or the reverse. They even insisted upon taking animpromptu ride upon a pony out at grass, and enjoyed a gallop round thefield on its bare back.

  Esther, whose life until recently had been passed mainly in garrisontowns, and who had not acquired the fearlessness of the country child,looked on in wondering amaze at these pranks, and listened with a senseof wonder and awe as the boys described their exploits at their ownhome, the things they did, and the things they meant to do.

  Down by the shore there was no holding the pair. They tore about thelittle quay and landing place in the greatest excitement. They got intothe boats lying beneath, and scrambled from one to the other, rockingthem in a fashion that sent Esther's heart into her mouth. She felt likea hen with ducklings to rear. She had not courage to follow the boysinto the swaying boats, and could only stand watching them with anxiouseyes, begging them to be careful, and not to fall into the water.

  "Bless your heart, missie!" said an old fisherman whom Esther knew,because he often brought them fish and lobsters in his basket fresh fromthe sea, "they won't come to no harm. Bless you! boys allers will beboys, and 'tisn't no good fur to try and hold them back. Them's not thekind that hurts. You sit here and watch them comfortable like. They'reas happy as kings, they are."

  The old man spoke in the soft, broad way which Esther was getting tounderstand now, but which puzzled her at first, as it would puzzlelittle people if I were to write it down the way the old man spoke it.She rather liked the funny words and turns of expression now, and sheenjoyed sitting by old Master Pollard, as she called him, watching theboys and listening to his tales, which he was always ready to tell whenhe had a listener.

  The boys had a glorious morning, paddling and shrimping with some of thefisher lads of the place. They only returned to Esther when they weregrowing ravenous for their dinner.

  She was glad to get them home quickly, driven by the pangs of hunger;and she told them that Master Pollard had said he would take them outfishing one of these days, and show them how the lobster-pots were set,and various other mysteries.

  Esther knew something about lobster-pots, having been with the old manto visit his sometimes; so she rose in the estimation of her cousins,especially as some of the lads had told them that "old Pollard wereonce a smuggler himself, long ago, when he was a lad," though thisEsther was disposed indignantly to deny.

  "Well, I hope he was, anyhow," said Puck; "I shall ask him to tell usall about it. I wonder if he knows all about the cave, and whether theypickled corpses up there in his time."

  The boys would have gone down to the shore again after their earlydinner, but their aunt had another suggestion to make.

  "Mrs. Polperran has been in, and wants you all to go to the rectory forthe afternoon, and have tea in the garden. I said I would send you all,so that you can make friends with your little playfellows."

  "Who is Mrs. Poll-parrot?" asked Pickles, with a sly look in his eyes.

  "Polperran, dear. Mr. Polperran is our clergyman, and his children areEsther's little friends, and will be your friends too."

  "The Rev. Poll-parrot," said Puck under his breath; and then both boyswent off into fits of laughter.

  "I don't think you ought to speak like that, Puck," said Mrs. St.Aiden, with mild reproof. "You must remember he is a clergyman, and youmust be respectful."

  Puck's blue eyes twinkled. It did not seem as though he had very muchrespectfulness in his composition; but he did not reply. Both the boystreated the gentle invalid with more consideration than they seemeddisposed to bestow upon anybody else. They did nothing more free andeasy than to dub her "Aunt Saint," and though Mrs. St. Aiden suggestedthat Aunt Alicia would be better, she did not stand out against theother appellation.

  "You look like a saint on a church window," Pickle remarked judicially,"so it seems to fit you better;" and Mrs. St. Aiden smiled indulgently,for it was less trouble to give way than to insist.

  It was with some trepidation that Esther conducted her young charges tothe rectory that day. The little Polperrans had been so very wellbrought up, and were so "proper behaved"--as Genefer calledit--themselves, that she was fearful of the effect that might beproduced upon them by the words and ways of the newly-imported pair.

  Mrs. Polperran herself came out to welcome them upon their approach, andPickle, when introduced, went boldly up to her with outstretched hand.

  "How do you do, Mrs. Poll-parrot? Is this the cage you live in?"

  Now Mrs. Polperran was just a little hard of hearing, so that she onlycaught the drift of the speech, and not the exact words, and she smiledand nodded her head.

  "Yes, dear; this is my house, and that is the garden where you willoften come and play, I hope; and there is an orchard beyond with a swingin it; and here are your little friends all ready to make youracquaintance," and she indicated her three children, who had been closebeside her all the time.

  Prissy's face was rather red, and Bertie had his handkerchief tuckedinto his mouth in a very odd way, whilst Milly was looking dividedbetween the desire to laugh and the fear of Prissy; however, Mrs.Polperran did not observe these small signs, but told her children totake care of their little guests, and sailed back to the house herself,where there was always work to be done.

  "Pretty poll! pretty poll! Scratch a poll, polly!" cried Puck softly,capering on the grass-plot as the lady disappeared.

  "You are a very rude little boy," said Prissy with an air of displeasureand a glance at Esther, as much as to ask her why she did not reprovesuch impertinence; but Bertie made a dash at Puck, seized him by thehand, and cried out,--

  "Come along! come along! Oh, won't we have some fun now!"

  Immediately the three boys dashed off together full tilt, and Milly,after a wavering glance in the direction of her sister and Esther,rushed headlong after them. The elder pair were left for the momentalone, and Prissy looked inquiringly into Esther's flushed face.

  "I don't think your cousins are very nice boys," she remarked with someseverity; "I should think they have been very badly brought up."

  Esther felt a little tingle of vexation at hearing her cousins thuscriticised, though after all she was not quite sure that she could denyPrissy's charge.

  "They have no mother, you see," she said.

  "Ah, well, perhaps that does make a difference. Fathers often spoiltheir children, when there is no mother; I've heard mama say soherself," she said. "You will have to be a little mother to them,Esther, and teach them better. I'm not going to hear my mother callednames, and I shall tell them so."

  Prissy proceeded to do this with great firmness when the children met alittle later. Pickle listened to her speech with most decorous gravity,while Puck's pretty face dimpled all over with laughter.

  "Pretty polly! pretty polly!--doesn't she talk well!" he exclaimed; andto Prissy's infinite astonishment and dismay, Milly and Bertie rolled toand fro in helpless mirth, whilst Pickle looked up in her flushed faceand said,--

  "You know little poll-parrots are called lovebirds. It isn'tpretty-behaved at all to get so angry about it.--Scratch her poll,Tousle; perhaps that'll put her in a better temper. Why, she's stickingher feathers up all over; she'll peck somebody next!" and Pickle made ashow of drawing back in fear, whilst his admirers became perfectly limpwith laughter.

  It was the first time the younger pair had ever tasted of the sweets ofliberty. Without exactly knowing it, they had been under Prissy's rulefrom their babyhood upwards. It had been as natural to them to obey heras to obey their mother, and they had come to regard her almost in thelight of a grown-up person whose word must, as a matter of course, belaw. And yet the germs of rebellion must surely have been in theirhearts, or they would hardly have sprung up so quickly.

  "We never have any fun at home," said Bertie, in a subdued whisper, whenthe boys and Milly had had their tea and had taken themselves off to thefarthest corner of the orchard; "whenever we think of anything nice todo, Prissy always s
ays we mustn't."

  "Why do you tell her?" asked Puck, and at that Bertie and Millyexchanged glances. It had never occurred to them as possible to keepanything from Prissy.

  "We mean to have some fun here, Puck and I," said Pickle, "and we shan'tgo and tell everything beforehand. We tell when it's done. It's a muchbetter way."

  Milly and Bertie sat open-mouthed in admiration at such audacity andinvention.

  "I never thought of that!" said Milly softly.

  "We thought of it a long time ago," said Puck, with a touch of pride andpatronage in his voice.

  "Well," said Pickle suddenly, "you don't seem such a bad pair ofyoungsters; so suppose we let you know when we've got our next plan onhand, and you come too."

  "Oh!" cried Milly, and "Oh!" cried Bertie. A look of slow rapture dawnedupon their faces. They realized that a time of glorious emancipation wasat hand, when they might be able to get into mischief like other happylittle boys and girls.