VIII
During the winter the Poor Boy made two excursions, lasting for a numberof days, southward through his valley and beyond. It was supposed byMartha, wild with anxiety, and by Miss Joy, but little less so, that hewent alone. As a matter of fact he had companions; Yardsley, theforester and surveyor; Wangog, the Huron chief, taciturn in talk, but agreat woodsman; and Stephen Bell, a young man recently come to live inthe village and a great favorite with the Poor Boy.
It had developed that there were enough people wrongfully accused ofsome crime or other in the world to settle the Poor Boy's lands from thebig lake all the way to the salt sea. And the main object of his longexcursions was to locate upon deep water, navigable for great ships, asite, not for a village, but for a city.
Already his first village had suburbs, and here and there, dotted aboutamong the foot-hills, were villas belonging to a wealthier class ofpeople: Bradleys, Godfreys, Warrens, Warings, etc., families of positionand breeding, among whom was a constant round of little dinners anddances to which the Poor Boy dearly loved to be invited.
During the winter, the Poor Boy made two excursionssouthward through his valley and beyond.]
Government by a commission of three was an established and successfulfact. Though it must be owned that as the man member and the womanmember could never agree about anything, all reins of policy weregathered into the hands of the child.
"A child leads us," was often in the mouths of the village elders, andoften anxiety expressed as to what would happen when the child grew up.But that he would grow up was not likely, since he was the very image ofwhat the Poor Boy himself had been at the same age--a charming,straightforward, most honorable boy, touched by the fairy godmother ofjustice, music, and fancy.
It was wonderful how much the school-children learned with three hours'schooling a day (except Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, when they hadnone), and how outdoor play the rest of the time was rapidly developingthem physically and in the sense of responsibility and judgment. Therewere no recorded cases of weak eyes, nerves, or hysteria. There were nosuicides among the children upon the occasion of failures to passexaminations.
Nor was morbid curiosity allowed to stalk among them, destroying as itwent. They were brought up on a newer and more scientific catechism,beginning:
_Teacher:_ Who made you?
_Answer:_ My father and mother.
And among themselves they were encouraged to raise up questions andbring them to their elders for simple and instructive answers. And thepunishment for lying to children and frightening them with mysteries wasvery terrible.
Upon his second long excursion the Poor Boy and his jolly companions(except Wangog, who was taciturn) came to the end of the Poor Boy'slands, a coast of granite sheathed with ice, and beyond, great brokencakes of ice heaving slowly with groans and grinding roars upon thetranquil winter ocean.
Back of the granite barriers the river spread right and left, and thenwent out to sea in a deep and narrow stream, curiously free from ice.Indeed, there was but little ice in the main basin, and a kind of steamhung over it so that the Poor Boy was compelled and delighted toconclude (with the aid of his companions) that the river toward itsmouth must be swollen by warm springs.
"I wonder if ships couldn't come in all the year round?"
He was going to wonder about other things, when the taciturn Wangoggrunted and pointed to where the smoke of a steamer lay black along thehorizon, and after that, to them closely watching, little by little herblack hull rose from the grays and whites and greens of the ice.
She proved to be many kinds of a ship, in rapid succession, but last ofall she was a yacht, huge and black and glittering with much brass. Shewas owned by a great statesman, who, with nothing but his country'swelfare at heart, had been accused of high treason, and who, havingheard of the Poor Boy's asylum for unfortunates, was making for it asfast as he could.
She came slowly between the headlands and to anchor at last with asplendid splash that glittered in the sun like diamonds....
It was very disappointing. If the Poor Boy, searching a more thanhalf-emptied knapsack, was ever to get home to his own house he mustpostpone his visit to--Lord Harrow's (yes, that was the name forever andever) yacht. Why had the Poor Boy and his companions wasted so much timeover an empty harbor, when they might just as well have had the yachtarrive in the early morning, giving time for visits, explanations, andlunch?
The Poor Boy began to stamp his feet. There was no sensation in them,and he found that they were frozen. He had come too far, he had exposedhimself too much--the sea with its burden of ice groaned and clashed.His companions, so jolly but now (except Wangog, who was taciturn),looked pityingly upon him and began to fade. They vanished. He was allalone. A shrill wind was rising, dusk was descending. He stood andstamped his feet, and two plans fought in his head for recognition andacceptance.
He could board Lord Harrow's great black yacht and be welcomed into thelight and the warmth of the great satin-wood saloon with its openfireplace and its Steinway grand. Lord Harrow's daughter, that lovelygirl, would minister to him, and Warinaru, the steward, would bring himhot grog in cut crystal, upon a heavy silver tray of George the First'stime. They would give him the best state-room, the green andwhite--white for winter, green for summer--and he would sleep--such along sleep--with no dreams in it, no worries, no memories--no awakening!
That was one plan--a delightful plan. So easy of accomplishment! He hadbut to sit in the snow and wait; Lord Harrow would see him and send aboat. No. Lord Harrow's daughter should be the first.... No ... No. Howfoolish! Don, the spaniel, begins to whine and fret, to put his paws onthe bulwarks and bark toward a spot on the shore.
A boat is lowered; Don, the spaniel, leaps in--they row, following thepoint of his nose, and the Poor Boy is found just in the nick oftime....
But the other plan, which was not delightful, was best.
"I told old Martha," the Poor Boy murmured, "to look for me at such atime. Why break her heart for a pair of bright eyes and a glass of hotgrog? Why not keep my word? It's only two or three days of torture."
He turned from the river and ran upon his skis, stamping at each step,until he found shelter from the wind. His feet began to tingle and heknew that they were not frozen. But by the time he had a fire going theywere numb again.
Between the Poor Boy and his old Martha was not two or three days oftorture, but four. During part of the time snow fell, and wind flew intohis face from the north.
Late on the fourth day he climbed the cliff upon which his house stood,not because it was the cliff upon which his house stood, but because itwas an obstacle in his way. His house might be a month's journey beyond,for all he knew.
At the top of the cliff, among the pines was a young woman. She was byno means the first he had seen that day. But her face was clearer thanthe other faces had been, and when she darted behind a tree and tried toescape without being seen or spoken to, he ran after her, not knowingwhy he ran nor why he called her Joy--Joy--Joy! And he did notunderstand why she in her turn kept calling, "Martha--Martha--comequick--come quick!"
He knew best that she suddenly stopped running, and turned and waitedfor him, and that as he fell forward she caught him in her arms andbegan to drag him toward a bright light.
It was a most vivid hallucination. And when he woke in his bed, so warmand all, and Martha bending over him, the first thing he toldher--smiling sleepily--was that he had mistaken her for Miss JocelynGrey.
"It was the realest sort of an hallucination," he said, "she caught meas I was falling--and of course she was you."
She suddenly stopped running, and turned and waited forhim.]
"How do you feel, Deary? We--I had a devil of a time with ye."
But the Poor Boy's mind was still upon the vision of Miss Grey.
"I saw her," he said, "and there was a look in her eyes that told meshe'd _never_--_never_ believed I'd done it.... And I was so glad, Itried to run to her for comfort, and all the
time she was you. It wasall so real--so real. It was a lot realer than some things that reallydid happen to me yesterday--yesterday morning, before I began to getsnow-foolish."
"'Twas the day before yesterday ye came home," said Martha. "And allyesterday ye raved like a lunatic until night, when ye fell asleep, andI knew that all was well."
"Have you sat up with me all the time?"
"Ye forget I have an old female to help me. We took turns."
"You must thank her for me, Martha."
"I'll do that."
"Tell her I am grateful to her, and I think we should give her quite alot of money, don't you?"
If You Touch Them They Vanish Page 8