CHAPTER XV
THE GARDEN BLOOMS AGAIN
The day that Gavin's picture appeared in the Algonquin paper with anaccount of the gallant deed in which he had given his life, Christinareceived a letter in an unknown handwriting.
Mitty brought it up to her room on a sunny April afternoon, where shewas sitting, trying to interest herself in some sewing for baby Hugh.She laid the letter aside while she finished her work, too indifferenteven to open it, but when the last button-hole was fashioned in thedainty little muslin dress she remembered it.
She opened it slowly, noticing with some interest that it was from theFront, and then she suddenly sat up very straight and read the writtenpages greedily. The letter was signed, Harry Kent, and was from acomrade of Gavin's in the Blue Bonnets, a boy whom he had oftenmentioned in his letters to Christina.
And inside was a letter from Gavin himself sealed in a separateenvelope. The first was a formal note from a shy boy.
"Dear Miss Lindsay: I hope you won't mind if I take the liberty towrite to you, though I am a stranger. Gavin Grant and I were pals, andwhen he went up to the Front for the last time he gave me the letter Iam enclosing, and he asked me to mail it to you. We knew his companywas going into a hot place, and he said he did not think he would getback. So he wrote you this letter and when I heard he was killed Isaid I would mail it to you. Gavin was the finest fellow I ever knew.He was always singing and he taught the fellows a lot of songs. Therewas one he was always singing, it was called a 'Warrior Bold,' and hewas singing it that morning just before the Boche came over. Thefellows in our Company would rather we had all gone West than Gavin, hewas worth them all put together...."
There was more about what Gavin had done in that last dread struggle.But Christina could not take the time to read it. She opened Gavin'sletter reverently, with trembling hands. The blinding tears wouldpermit her to make out only a few sentences at a time.
"I wrote you a letter last night," it said, "and I hope you will notthink I am too bold to be writing you another to-night. But we aregoing up into a rather bad place to-night and if I do not come back, Iwant to send you a good-bye message. I have never been able to tellyou how much you have always been to me. I could not even write it ina letter. I have always been afraid I would offend you. But I thoughtyou would not mind that I told you if I never came back. You havealways been so far above me, that I did not have the courage to try togo with you. And then somebody else came, and I knew I had no chancethen. But you have always been my girl in spite of all that, eversince the day you filled my pail with your berries to save me from athrashing. I was always singing about you when I sang that old song,
"'My love is young and fair, My love has golden hair, And eyes so blue and heart so true That none with her compare.'
"It was partly because you were so much to me that I wanted to enlist.I felt that I would be fighting for you. And if I do not come backto-morrow I will be glad to feel that I will be helping to save youfrom harm. You will not miss me, but the Aunties will, and I am goingto ask a great favour of you. Will you always go to see them, andcomfort them? And tell them they must not grieve for me. It is somuch better to come out here and die for a good cause than to live inpeace and safety at home. I am so glad, and they must be glad too, formy sake. I will have your little ring----"
Christina could read no more just then. Her bright head went down onthe sunny window sill, she slipped to the floor in a very passion ofgrief. She was realising with overwhelming remorse that a mostbeautiful thing had happened to her and her eyes had been too blind tosee until the pageant had faded. Her True Knight--and what lady ofhigh degree had a knight more noble?--her True Knight had ridden out tomortal combat, and she had not even waved him farewell from her window!
She left the work with Mitty the next day and went up over the hills tosee the Grant Girls. She did not take her letter, it was too sacredfor even their loving eyes, but she wanted to talk to them about Gavinand, if she were alone with Auntie Elspie, she would whisper to herthat her heart had gone out into the storm and darkness after Gavinthat night he went to the war, and that it still followed him somewherein the shining regions where he moved.
She went slowly up over the dun fields, lying all quiet and restful,waiting for the stirring of the Spring. Away down in the beaver meadowa soft green flush told that the pussy willows were already out, a boldrobin was singing the opening song of the Spring concert, and the crowscawed derisively over the memories of a vanquished Winter.
But Christina's sad heart could not respond to these little, gaygreetings of Spring. She lingered in the bare slash, remembering theday of the berry-picking when Gavin had been in such deep trouble. Shestood in the place where he had stood when he pulled the bind-weed, andwhen they had listened to the call of the opening drum beat of the war.And she went over in memory every foot of the walk in the harvestmoonlight from Craig-Ellachie that night when she had been so happywith him, but had walked beside him with blinded eyes.
The garden at Craig-Ellachie had already wakened to life, the crocuseswere out, rows and rows of them, and the garden hyacinths were holdingup their little green spears. But there was no happy gardener workingin the brown beds. Christina went slowly up the walk where the dryleafless branches of the climbing roses hung over her head. Gavin'sdogs came tumbling down the steps to meet her in joyous welcome.
She looked up in wonder as the kitchen door was flung suddenly open.Mrs. Johnnie Dunn flashed into the doorway and shouted somethingincoherent, and as suddenly disappeared, and Hughie Reid's wife came tothe window and waved frantically. Christina ran forward, filled withforeboding. She darted up the steps and stopped amazed in the doorway.The kitchen was full of people, it seemed, all moving about and talkingwildly. Mr. Sinclair was there and Dr. McGarry and a half dozen women,and the Aunties were running about laughing and crying, and it seemedas if every one had suddenly gone quite mad.
And then it seemed to Christina that the room was going round and shefound a chair and sat down quickly, for Mrs. Johnnie Dunn's voice fromfar away was calling out the most amazing and unbelievablething--shouting that Gavin was not dead! He had been found! He hadbeen buried in a shell-hole, half-dead, and when the Blue Bonnets sweptback over the enemy's trenches he had been rescued. He had been badlywounded and had lain unconscious for a long time. But he was alive andwas in a hospital in France!
Christina flew over the brown hills on the way to her mother with thenews, saying over and over to her benumbed senses that Gavin was notdead, that he was alive. It seemed as if her heart had been sostupefied with grief that it could not yet accept joy. She ran in akind of dream saying that she would soon wake up and find that this wasnot true.
But the glorious news was confirmed. There was a week of alternatewild hope and fear, and then, as wonderful as a message from the dead,came a cable from Gavin himself. He was in a hospital in France andwas progressing rapidly. The next news told that he was in England,and then came a blessed letter from his nurse, saying that he wasrecovering slowly but surely and was promising himself that it wouldnot be long until he would write a letter home.
Such a clamour of joy and relief as the news of Gavin brought toOrchard Glen no one would have thought possible. Every one hadsorrowed deeply with the Grant Girls and now the whole countryside cameout to Craig-Ellachie to rejoice with them and to hear again and againthe story of Gavin's rescue. And the Grant Girls put in such a gardenas the county had never seen, and grew young and bright again with joyand hope.
As for Christina she moved about in a golden dream. Life was not realat all these days, but the dream of it was beautiful and the colourcame back to her cheeks and the light to her eyes, and she went aboutthe house with her old swift motions.
She could not believe in the reality of her joy at all until shereceived her first letter from Gavin. As soon as the message came thathe was in England she wrote him. It was her answer to the letter thathe had never inte
nded her to see during his life. It must have been asatisfactory answer, for not all the skill of surgeon and sistercombined had produced a fraction of the healing and strengtheningquality that its closely written pages brought to the wounded soldierin England. And his answer made Christina's eyes brighter and her steplighter than they had been since the day Jimmy and Neil went over thetop.
It was not until Gavin was so well that he was walking about that hewrote confessing the full extent of his injuries. He had lost an arm,only his left arm, he wrote, which he really didn't miss much. He madejokes about it and warned Auntie Janet that she need not be layingplans to do as she pleased, for he could manage the whole family andmake them mind, even with one arm. And as he was still a little lameand would be likely to carry a heavy stick for some time he would bequite able to keep her in her place.
But he did not write so lightly on the matter to Christina. He hadonly one arm, and was a poor hobbling creature, he confessed, and howcould he ask her to share life with him? He was only half a man, and apoor weak half at that.
But Christina wrote him such a letter as forever put such notions outof Gavin's head. It was a letter that made him feel not like half aman but as though he had the strength of ten. For what was the loss ofan arm when one had such a warm heart beating for him, and awaiting hiscoming?
Christina had not seen Wallace Sutherland since the day he haddisappeared from her view in the black mist that had rolled up over herwith the news that Gavin was killed. Her mind had been too much rackedto think of him since, but now that it was at rest she remembered himwith a feeling of shame. So she sat down and wrote him a letter,telling him humbly and frankly all the truth, how Gavin had held herheart long before she realised it. She begged him to forgive her ifshe had done him any injury and ended up by the tactful hint that astheir association had been a pleasant friendship, in which thekindnesses had been so many and so generous on his side, she hoped hewould think of her with pleasure, and that they would always continueto be friends.
But Wallace was thinking of Christina with feelings entirely thereverse of pleasant. And his mother was thinking very bitter thoughtsabout her indeed. For just when Mrs. Sutherland had become reconciledto her son's changed prospects, and when Uncle William was doinghandsomely by the boy, when there was every prospect that Wallace wouldsoon be married and be safe from the recruiting officers, with a farmand a wife and a widowed mother between him and military service, wheneverything had turned out better than she had dared to hope, suddenlythe whole fabric of her plans came crashing about her ears. And allowing to the outrageous conduct of a girl who had thrown her son asidefor a farm boy, merely for the glamour of a medal won on thebattlefield!
It was really very hard on poor Mrs. Sutherland, and Christina wasovercome with shame when she thought of her. For Wallace sold the Fordplace to Mrs. Johnnie Dunn for a shamefully low figure and went off tothe States where quite likely some wicked sleuth of a recruitingofficer would find him and send him to the war after all.
Christina was very humble and very much ashamed of herself, but it washard to worry over Wallace when such wonderful things were happening inone's own life. For before the apple blossoms came to decorate theorchard for her birthday, Sandy was home to help celebrate. Even thenews that he was wounded came as a relief from the strain of waiting.At least he was off the battlefield. And then it proved that the woundwas not serious; but he was lame and unfit for more active service andwas coming home to finish his course at college if that were at allpossible.
And Uncle Neil took out his fiddle when the letter heralding Sandy'sreturn was received, and played softly some of his old favourite airs;tunes Christina had not heard since the boys went away to the war. Andthey brought the tender tears to her eyes, remembering the happy olddays when they were all at home and Grandpa sang the Hindmost Hymn ateventide. Sandy's presence brought new life to the Lindsay home. Johnand Uncle Neil sat up half the nights listening to his tales of theworld of glory and horror in which he had been living. And Christinaand her mother could scarcely let him out of their sight. He was allthat had been spared them from the War Monster's greed.
In spite of all the dread sights he had witnessed he was the same gayold Sandy, and the home took on some of its old-time life and gaiety.He and Christina soon fell back into their habit of comradeship. Theyhad many confidences to exchange, and Christina had to tell all thestory of Gavin and what his going had meant to her. Sandy was full ofjoy at the telling. Gavin had always been a True Knight in his eyesand then he had all the returned soldier's disdain of the slacker.Christina could not but shudder at what her life might have been hadambition ruled, instead of her heart and Wallace and Sandy were meetinghere in the old home.
They had many long talks on the pump platform under the blossomingorchard boughs, and they smiled often over their great plans that hadall turned out so differently from what they had expected.
"Are you still bound to get out of Orchard Glen?" asked Sandy slyly,and Christina had to confess that she was not. She could not quiteexplain to Sandy that all her restless ambition had been but the desirefor something great and heroic such as her simple life did not seem tocontain. But the great and heroic had come right to her door, unseen,it is true, but now recognised, and her soul was perfectly content inits radiance. Life could never be narrow and common-place any more.She had attained all her ambition through following the road her heartindicated,--the shining pathway of loving self-sacrifice that leads tothe stars.
CHAPTER XVI
THE HILLS ABOVE ORCHARD GLEN
As soon as the word reached Craig-Ellachie that Gavin was to be senthome to Canada, Orchard Glen began to bustle about for a grandcelebration when he arrived.
Tremendous K. got the biggest choir together that the village had everseen; a harmonious jumble of Presbyterians, Methodists and Baptists.And the children of the three Sunday Schools united in a grand chorus,and Minnie Brown and Martha Henderson worked like slaves teaching themsongs and patriotic exercises, all denominations so mixed up nobodycould tell which was which.
Mr. Sinclair was chairman of the committee to plan the celebration withMr. Wylie and the Baptist minister as his assistants. And nobodyraised the slightest objection when, at the very first meeting,Marmaduke proposed that they invite Piper Lauchie McDonald to come downfrom Glenoro and play Gavin home from the station.
Mr. Wylie nodded, and said "A good idea," and old Tory Brown himselfspoke up and said, "Yes, yes, let's have the buddy. I don't like hisnoise, myself, but Gavin will be pleased. He aye liked the pipes."
And Piper Lauchie was vastly pleased when he received the invitationand graciously declared that he would set his vow aside, not for thesake of Orchard Glen, but out of his reverence for the Victoria Cross,and permit the misguided folk to listen to his music once more.
Every one was pleased furthermore because the public reception was tobe held in the Temperance Hall instead of the Presbyterian Church, forit was felt that for this occasion Gavin belonged to the whole village,no Church should claim them. And this arrangement suited the good folkwho were alarmed at the possibility of hearing the piper in church, foras old Willie Henderson said, "Even though the lad did a great deed,that was no reason why the people of the village should pollute theHouse o' God."
So the Hero was to be received in the Temperance Hall where Gavin hadsung his songs of heroic deeds, none so great as that he had donehimself. Then after the reception, with speeches and singing, all wereto gather in the basement of the Methodist Church for a great supper.The Red Cross work was to be cleared away for the occasion, and tableswere to be set that would hold all the township of Oro. And if theweather was fine the supper was to be taken out to the church lawn andeverybody was to have a real good old-fashioned picnic.
Young Mrs. Martin, who had once taught school, and knew how thingsshould be done, suggested that they arrange the supper in a more up todate style. It could be held in the Hall also, and everybody could sitd
own to the tables first and have the speeches after, as was the properway. But The Woman, who was running the affair, would not listen toher.
"When you want to eat, why eat and be done with it, says I," shecommanded. "But this mixing up of a concert and speeches with the foodand dirty dishes on a table, I just can't abide. And the idea isnothing but some foolishness of them town trollops who don't know howto do things right anyways."
So, when everything was arranged so perfectly, and the two choirs couldsing "O Canada" and "Keep the Home Fires Burning" without a flaw, andsufficient sandwiches and cakes and pies had been promised to feed allthe Blue Bonnets had they been coming home, it was something of a shockto everybody's nerves when the astounding intelligence was receivedthat the people of Algonquin were actually claiming Gavin as their own,and were arranging a reception for him at Algonquin on the very sameday!
Fortunately Mrs. Johnnie Dunn discovered in time what Algonquin was upto. The Woman was now the President of the Red Cross Society in name,as well as in reality, as poor Mrs. Sutherland had withdrawn from allsocial life since her bitter disappointment over Wallace. And whileshe was attending a Red Cross meeting in Algonquin, Mrs. Johnnie madeher amazing discovery. She called her forces together immediately uponher return home and told them all the deadly plot of the towns-peoplein a red hot speech that was talked about for years afterwards.
It appeared that the Algonquin people, with their unfailing habit ofgobbling up everything that came near them, had calmly appropriated theVictoria Cross hero as their own, just because the company of the BlueBonnets to which he belonged had drilled for a few months in theirtown! And they had published all over the countryside that he was anAlgonquin boy. He was to be met at the station,--just as if he hadnobody belonging to him,--by the Mayor, and the Council, and a memberof Parliament, and what not. And there was to be a little girl alldressed up fit to kill, who would hand him a bunch of flowers! ToGavin Grant, who had all the Craig-Ellachie garden waiting for him!And then he was to be taken up to the Town Hall and set down to abanquet, with long speeches by all the preachers in the town, right inthe middle of the eating; one of those messed-up affairs where you satround amongst the dirty dishes and had speeches and singing all mixedup with your meat and potatoes.
Yes, it was true,--every word of it! It was the Algonquin Presidentherself who told her,--that forward woman who was always teaching themhow to sew a band on a shirt. And it was all the talk at the Red Crossmeeting in town about the wonderful reception that was to be given totheir returned soldier.
"Who's the reception for?" says I, "for I hadn't heard of any one inAlgonquin that had done anything but dodge the recruiting officer?"
"Why one of our boys won the V. C. at the front," says she, "didn't youhear about it?"
"The V. C.!" says I, gettin' suspicious, "it's the first time I everheard that any soldier from this town got anything but C. B." says I.
"Oh, yes," says she, as sweet as honey, "why, didn't you see in thepapers about Gavin Grant getting the V. C.? He's one of our Algonquinboys. He enlisted here in The Blue Bonnets!"
And then another woman speaks up and says she, "'Why Mrs. Dunn,' saysshe, 'it's a wonder you don't know Gavin Grant. I think he comes fromsomewhere near Orchard Glen,' says she!"
"'Well' says I, 'it is a wonder; that's a fact! I don't seem to knowas much about him as I thought I did. He's lived almost on the nextfarm to me since he was the size of a grasshopper,' says I, 'but thisis the first time I ever heard that he belonged to Algonquin!' says I."
"Well, I tell you, that blew down their clothes-line in a hurry;especially when I told them that he was to be recepted at his own homeon the very day they were planning their spree."
"They got into a terrible sweat, and one of the women ran andtelephoned the Mayor's office, and the Mayor came runnin' over as ifthe town had caught fire. He was in a great sputter I tell you, when Ilet him know that he'd put his horse into the wrong stall. You'd thinkit had turned out that Gavin was a German spy."
"'Why, Mrs. Dunn,' says he, 'we've got all our arrangements made,' sayshe, 'and Mr. Leigh, the member, is spoken for,' says he, 'and, you'lljust have to put yours on for the next afternoon,' says he, 'we reallycan't change now!'"
"'Well,' says I, 'I wouldn't have you stop Corny Leigh from makin' aspeech, for all the world,' says I, 'I know how hard it would be onhim,' says I, 'but I don't see how you'll manage,' says I, 'seein' thatGavin Grant, V. C., is going' to get off at Silver Creek Crossing, onthe other side of Orchard Glen!' says I."
This was an inspiration on The Woman's part, and her audience burstinto clapping. Silver Creek was a little station away back in thewoods, and Orchard Glen lay midway between it and Algonquin. It wasmerely a flag station set away in the swamp, and not a fitting place tomeet a hero home from the war, but every one agreed that in thisemergency it proved a real refuge from the greed of Algonquin. It wasa grand notion of The Woman's, and all Orchard Glen fairly held itssides laughing at the enemy's discomfiture.
So there was nothing for the vanquished but a retreat. Theyaccomplished it hastily, and dug themselves in, there to await a lateropportunity when Gavin would be received in proper style after OrchardGlen had got over blowing its trumpets.
But Orchard Glen had to learn that they could not keep Gavin quite tothemselves. A reporter from one of the Algonquin weekly papers cameout to the village; and later a couple of representatives of Torontopapers. They all had dinner at Craig-Ellachie and they took picturesof the old house, and of the three Aunties in the garden, and anotherof Auntie Elspie spinning in the door way. And they carried off aphotograph of Gavin in his Highland bonnet and kilt, and it was allpublished in a great page of the Saturday issue, the pictures of thebeautiful old home, and the thrilling tale of Gavin's glorious deed,with his picture in the centre of it all, and underneath hisbattle-cry, "Stand Fast, Craig-Ellachie!"
And the Aunties were so proud and happy, that they could neither eatnor sleep, but just wandered about the house and garden in a happy daze.
And through all the interviews, not one of the clever, keen-scentedreporters, discovered that the hero had been just a poor waif from anOrphan Asylum that Auntie Elspie had plucked as a brand from thefurnace of Skinflint Jenkins's cruelty.
The Grant Girls were eager to guard the secret, but that required somefinesse of which they were entirely incapable. But Mrs. Johnnie Dunnwas equal to any occasion, and she managed to be at Craig-Ellachieduring the interviews. She kept close to the reporters, answering alltheir questions, and forestalling any that might be embarrassing.Without making any direct statements that might hurt the tenderconsciences of the Aunties, she led the newspaper men gently along atrain of thought that ended in the firm impression that Gavin was theonly child of their brother, with all his virtues and many more of hisown. It was a subtle suggestion of The Woman's that made the youngestreporter notice a strong resemblance between Gavin's photograph andAunt Janet. And indeed The Woman made such a fine story for thevisitors, encouraging them along any and every bypath that theirimagination might suggest, that not even Auntie Elspie could recogniseher quiet, unassuming, reticent boy in the prancing warrior that Mrs.Johnnie Dunn permitted the representatives of the press to create.
The discovery of the perfidy of Algonquin in trying to steal Gavin madesome re-arrangement for his reception necessary. As he was to be metat the quiet little nook in the swamp, instead of the noisy station atAlgonquin, young Mrs. Martin made her second suggestion. It was thatthey have their programme and addresses of welcome right there in theopen, beside the Silver Creek, and the more informal part, the supper,and some of the performances by the children, on their return.
This new arrangement met with every one's approval; even The Woman feltit would be a good idea to welcome Gavin properly right at the station,as soon as he stepped off. For the papers had all announced thatOrchard Glen was preparing a grand home-coming for their hero, and whoknew but there might be half-a-dozen reporters on
the train to takenotes of how they were doing it?
At last the word for which every one was waiting came. Gavin hadreached Toronto; the hospital authorities were releasing him for atime, and the day for his home-coming was set! Sandy Lindsay was inToronto at the time, and he wrote to Christina that he would be up withGavin. For the hero of the Victoria Cross dreaded this publicreception more than German gas, and insisted upon having some supportwhen he was compelled to march into it.
So Sandy took matters in his own hands and telegraphed Mr. Sinclairthat Gavin would arrive at Silver Creek on the two-thirty train, on aFriday afternoon, and Orchard Glen sat up half the night before gettingready.
Christina had never taken such a long time dressing in her life as shedid that afternoon. At first she was seized with a sudden panic ofshyness, and told herself she would not go. She knew the girlsgossiped about her sudden change of heart, and her relation to Gavinwas no secret. For the Aunties had been too happy to keep fromtelling, and Mrs. Sutherland had not been guiltless of makingChristina's faithlessness public.
The girls were rather inclined to feel sorry for Christina. It did notseem possible that any girl would choose Gavin Grant, even with aVictoria Cross, in preference to Wallace Sutherland with the Fordplace, and the only true explanation of the affair was that Wallace hadchanged. On the other hand, Bell Brown declared that Christina Lindsaywas not like other girls and no one could tell what she would do.
So Christina well knew that they were talking about her, and at firstshe declared she would stay home with her mother and Uncle Neil. Butthe Aunties made it clear that they expected her to go, and she couldnot bear that they be disappointed on this the greatest day of theirlives. And then Gavin would be disappointed too, and that would bestill worse, and she had to confess to her honest heart that Christinawould be more disappointed than any one, for she was impatient to seeher hero, and quite as eager to go as the Aunties themselves.
So she put away all her fears, and spent a most unreasonable length oftime getting herself ready. She wound her shining braids around herhead and put on her best white dress and her white hat, and reverentlyfastened the purple band on her arm, for the dear ones who would nevercome home, but who were somewhere near in the free outer ring of beingjust beyond the painful confines of her life. And when she was allready, with her golden hair and her eyes so blue, as Gavin had so oftensung, she looked very young and fair, and far more beautiful than anyLindsay girl had ever yet looked.
The weather was perfect, such a glorious day of blank blue skies, withthe smooth shaven fields lying golden-brown in the sunshine. Here andthere a field showed sheaves of wheat standing in khaki-coloured groupslike soldiers on guard. Nobody cared that the Air Service of theclouds might bomb them with silver bullets before night, for how couldany one stay home and haul in his crop when one of their own boys wascoming home bearing the Victoria Cross?
The crowd gathered at the corner, where the order of the procession wasto be arranged. Piper Lauchie was there early this time and wasmarching up and down the store veranda, so that nobody could come in orout, and playing gloriously. Mrs. Johnnie Dunn brought her new car tocarry the three Aunties, with a space reserved for Gavin. Mr. Holmeshad recently bought a Ford and he came next with the piper, a piece ofreal Christian sacrifice on the store-keeper's part. He was followedby the ministers, all crowded amicably into one single buggy, wherethere was no room for denominational differences. Next came the choir,spreading over three big democrats, and following them, the Hendersons'hay wagon with the children piled into it three deep. Ordinaryindividuals came next without any order of precedence, and as far downthe line as possible, Christina sat beside John in their single buggy.
The procession made a brave showing, with the long line of vehiclesstretching from the corner away up the hill and down the other side,every one decorated with flags and streamers, and Piper Lauchiestanding up in the Holmes' car playing loud enough to be heard inAlgonquin.
But not all the rest of the procession together could compare indisplay with Mrs. Johnnie Dunn's car where the three Aunties satarrayed as no even the Grant Girls had ever appeared in public. AuntieElspie wore a sea-green brocaded satin, trimmed with silk fringe;Auntie Flora was in a dazzling silk of an ancient "changeable" variety,that was now purple and now gold, and a wonderful beaded cape of blackvelvet. And Auntie Janet was in her ruby velvet with a rose silkfringed parasol that turned to flame when the sun struck it. Andbeside they had the car filled with flowers and each Auntie carried alittle posie of rosemary and pinks, Gavin's favourites of all thegarden.
"We wanted him to smell the rosemary as soon as he got off the train,"explained Auntie Flora, "and then he would feel he was at home."
The procession were a bright and beautiful sight, indeed, and the GrantGirls' faces, so shining and young and eager, were the brightest thingin all the gay throng that started out to bring Gavin home.
Mrs. Johnnie Dunn had them all put into their proper places at last andaway they went skimming down the sunny River Road, under the toweringelms that fringed the highway, with the golden harvest-fields, wherethe khaki-coloured sheaves stood up like soldiers on guard, smiling oneither hand, and the winding reaches of the Silver Creek peeping outfrom the green, here and there, with a flash like an unsheathed sword.
The Woman had arranged the programme to be given at the Crossing, sothat there was no possibility of anything going wrong. The choirs wereto line up, right in front of the place where the train would stop,with the Piper behind them, ready to play at the first sight of thetrain coming out of the swamp. Indeed the Piper was The Woman's oneanxiety. She was afraid he could not be induced to stop in time forthe children to come in with their chorus, and she had cautionedMarmaduke to give his old shawl a good jerk and choke him off before itwas too late.
It had been arranged, very prettily, that the Piper was to play untilthe train came to a stop, then he was to stop too, and the childrenwere to burst into "O Canada," and were to sing it with all theirmight, standing up in the wagon and waving their flags. While this wasgoing on Gavin would be getting off the train and was to be welcomed bythe ministers and Dr. McGarry and Mr. Holmes, the special committeeappointed for the purpose. Then the committee was to lead him to thecar where the Grant Girls were sitting, and while he was meeting them,Marmaduke was to give the signal, and all were to burst into threecheers, and the boys had promised they would be such cheers as hadnever before wakened up the echoes of the swamp.
When Gavin was properly seated, both the choirs, and indeed everybody,were to join in singing his regimental song, "All the Blue Bonnets areover the Border."
And when that was finished Mr. Sinclair was to read the address, andMr. Wylie and the Baptist minister were to say a few words, and ifAuntie Elspie could make him, Gavin was then to step out upon theplatform and give his reply. And Auntie Elspie had promised to do herbest, but would give no assurance of success.
When this was over, there was to be another patriotic song by thechoirs, then the Piper could have a chance again, and every one was toclimb back into their rigs, and they would all go back home and havesuch a supper as nobody would believe until they saw it!
It was really to be a fine welcome home, and Orchard Glen could nothelp feeling some regret, that Algonquin's mean habit of hero-snatchingshould have prevented the whole town witnessing the splendid scene.
When they all drew up with much noise and dust at Silver CreekCrossing, the crowd made a great stir in the lonely place, and thesound of their gay voices echoed far away into the swamp as theyarranged themselves around the tiny platform, and along the green bankof the stream.
Willie Meek, the one inhabitant of the lonely place, came out of histiny habitation with a tattered cloth on a stick and stood ready toflag the train. And then when every one was ready and waiting, ofcourse the Martin children were constrained to stir up trouble! Assoon as the children's choir was put into its proper place, these two"limbs," as Mrs. Johnnie Dunn ca
lled them, slipped away from theconfines of the hay wagon, and no one missed them till a terriblescream from the crossing bridge announced that one of them had falleninto the creek.
Mrs. Martin echoed the scream and called out as she always did in timeof disaster, "Oh, Alfred!" And Alfred left his horses and ran to therescue. Willie Meek dropped his flag and Piper Lauchie dropped hispipes, and joined the crowd that was pulling the eldest Martin out ofthe soft mud and water of the creek. And at the same moment the shriekof the train just on the other side of the bend came thrilling throughthe woods. Tremendous K. saw that there was nobody to flag the trainand he rushed gallantly onto the track, waving his hands and shoutingon the monster to stop.
But they might have known that the train would stop if there had beenno one there at all. For all the way from Toronto hadn't two returnedsoldiers been tormenting the conductor with warnings to stop at SilverCreek Crossing, if he valued his life. And at every station he wouldcome into then and say hopefully, "Only six more stops, boys," or "Justfive more, and we're there," and finally it had been "Silver Creekcomes next," and, with fine sarcasm, "Did you say you wanted to get offthere?"
And so, when the train swept round the bend out of the swamp, with ashriek and a roar, and came thundering down upon the Crossing, therewas no need for Tremendous K., who, nevertheless, stood his ground inthe middle of the track, waving his arms to be quite sure there was nodanger of its tearing through, and carrying Gavin on to Algonquin.
The roaring monster stopped with a grumbling of brakes and an impatienthissing of steam, with Gavin's car right in front of the waiting crowd.All eyes were turned upon the two khaki-clad figures. The youngofficer was in the background, the kilted figure was on the step.Gavin was leaning far out, his eager eyes sweeping the crowd. Helooked very tall and very, very thin, with a red spot burning on eithersunken cheek, but his eyes were bright and he stood up very straightand looked a gallant figure for all he held a heavy stick in his onehand, and his poor empty sleeve was tucked into his pocket.
And at the sight of him Auntie Elspie gave a cry, and before any of thecommittee could get near him, Gavin had fairly fallen off the carplatform, and at the same moment the three Aunties had tumbled from thecar where they were supposed to sit decorously, and the four were ineach other's arms, and the Grant Girls were crying over their batteredhero, as they had not cried even when they heard he was lying dead onthe battlefield of France. And Gavin, half-laughing, half-crying,himself, was trying to gather the three of them into his one poor armwhich was needed so badly for his supporting stick!
And all Orchard Glen stood and looked on in dead silence, with a lumpin every throat and a mist in every eye, and everybody forgot entirelythat there was such a thing as a programme to be followed.
Finally, Mr. Sinclair and Dr. McGarry led the Aunties back to the carand as Gavin climbed in he cried out, "Oh, Auntie Flora, I'm reallyhome. I smell the garden." And the Aunties took to crying harder thanever.
Then all the mothers, who were weeping in sympathy, came and hugged andkissed him, and shed tears over him, and all the rest left theirappointed places and crowded round the hero to get in a word ofwelcome, and speakers and choir and everybody got all mixed up inhopeless confusion.
Nobody noticed that the train had pulled out again, and that every oneon board (and who knew but half of them might be newspaper reporters?)had seen the Orchard Glen had done nothing but stand and stare inperfect silence when one of their boys came home bearing the VictoriaCross, and what would the people of Algonquin say when they heard?
But nobody thought of all this just yet, not even The Woman, for shetoo was crying over Gavin's empty sleeve, and thinking of the one whowould never come back. Every one was coming up to shake his hand nowand Gavin's eyes were wandering searchingly over the crowd, even whenMarmaduke and Tremendous K. and the minister were making him welcome.
And suddenly the restless, hungry look was replaced by a flash ofrapture, for Christina, all flushed and trembling, and looking morebeautiful than any one would have dreamed she could look, came forward,hanging tightly to Sandy's arm. She forgot all about the crowd forjust a moment, when she took his one hand in both hers, and whispered,"Oh, Gavin!" And he looked at her with his eyes shining and said withequal incoherence, "Oh, Christine!"
They stood for a moment looking into each other's eyes, the worldblotted out, and remembered the night they parted. And they did notsay what they had expected to say at all. For Gavin whispered, lookingat her dress, "You are wearing my pin." And she looked down for herring, and remembered that the hand that had worn it was gone! And shecould only look at him with the tears welling up in her eyes, and thenshe was pushed on to make room for Tilly who was crying her pretty eyesout for no reason at all. It was not much of an interview, but it wasa very great deal to the lovers, and the red spot that had faded fromGavin's cheeks at the first sight of Christina, flamed up again, and herallied Tilly gaily and asked her was she sorry that he had come home?
And when the mothers had all kissed him and bewailed him and rejoicedover him again, and they had all climbed into their cars and buggies,and Piper Lauchie had tuned up for a homeward march, The Woman suddenlyremembered that there had been no singing and no addresses and noprogramme and nothing but dead silence and tears to welcome the hero ofthe Victoria Cross on his return from the war!
It was perfectly outrageous, and not to be tolerated for a moment. Shesprang from her car, leaving Gavin and his Aunts to themselves, andshouted to Tremendous K. and Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Holmes to come rightback and do it all over again!
But nobody paid the slightest attention. The procession was alreadymoving down the road without the slightest regard to order. The strainhad been removed, and everybody seemed seized with a joyous madness.Even Mr. Sinclair waved his hat and laughed at her as his buggy swungpast, leaving the hero in the rear.
Then Marmaduke forsook his companions and without asking permissionscrambled into her car with Gavin, and sat on the silk fringe of AuntieElspie's dress, and shouted and waved encouragement to every one thatpassed while The Woman screamed expostulations.
"Never mind," he roared, to each one, "we didn't forget to flag thetrain!" and from each buggy and car the long delayed cheers burst forth.
In spite of all her efforts the procession dashed away. Though itwasn't a real procession at all, but a joyous scramble, with every onegetting in every one else's way. The children would not go back intotheir hay-wagon, but scrambled all over into the best cars, and thegirls in the choir got mixed up with the boys in single buggies, and acrowd of foolish young fellows got into Mr. Holmes' car with the Piper,and actually persuaded that staid and proper pillar of the BaptistChurch to race with Dr. McGarry. And the Piper was so shaken up hecouldn't play at all. And young Mr. Martin's horse took fright at thenoise and confusion, and nearly ran away, and just escaped throwing allthe children into the ditch. And so they all scampered gaily,helter-skelter, back to the village, the hero far in the rear, hiddenin clouds of dust, with his friends gambolling ahead. And indeedGavin's homecoming was no more like a triumphal procession than any ofthe foot-ball games in which he used to take part in the river pasture.
But whatever faults The Woman or Tremendous K. might have found withhis reception, it was perfect in Gavin's eyes and the eyes of the threeAunties. For all its mistakes were but the result of the overwhelmingsympathy and joy of his friends, and relief that the Aunties had not,after all, lost the light of their eyes. And indeed if no one had methim but had left him to find his way to Craig-Ellachie alone, andafterwards over the hills to Christina, Gavin would have been perfectlyhappy. For he was still much the same shy boy who had gone away, withno thought of glory or public notice, but only a simple desire to dohis duty. He was not a boy any more, for he had been through scenesthat make men old, and the remembrance of them lingered in his deepeyes, and showed in a new staidness of manner. But he was the samesimple-hearted Gavin, reticent and unassuming and in his heart
healmost could wish, except for the joy it gave his Aunties, that he hadnever heard of the Victoria Cross. He had only done his duty, herepeated over and over, and all the men at the Front were doing that.
And so he lay back among the cushions, surrounded by flowers, his onehand in Auntie Elspie's, and looked with shining eyes, not at thebeautiful familiar bits of landscape which were passing, and to whichthe Aunties were calling his attention, but at the gleam of agolden-brown head that was occasionally visible from John Lindsay'sbuggy. Marmaduke pointed out this and that historical landmark; thehill where they used to go coasting in winter; the old burnt stump upwhich Gavin had climbed to get the hawk's nest one day at recess; thehole below the mill where the teacher forbade them to swim and intowhich they all plunged at noon quite regularly, and Gavin smiled andnodded, and saw nothing but the gleam of gold ahead.
Whatever had been wrong with the reception and the procession, no faultcould be found with the supper. It had been set outdoors on the churchlawn, and the tables were so ladened with chicken and ham and jelliesand salads and cake and pie, that instinctively the men took off theircoats before sitting down to the attack. And after everything waseaten nobody seemed able either to hear or make a speech. And therewas no music and no programme, for the juvenile choir, after gorgingitself in a truly dangerous fashion, went out into the dust of thevillage street, and played tag and hide-and-seek, and not even the PiedPiper, himself, could have collected them again. And the other choirwas either waiting on the tables, or eating so much that they couldn'tsing either.
The address was read, but there was so much noise and joyous running toand fro that not even Gavin heard it. And his speech was as short as aspeech could possibly be, just a word of thanks for himself and hisAunts and his oft reiterated statement, he had only done his duty, andall the fellows at the Front, and many at home were doing that.
But everybody had a grand time, nevertheless, such a time of laughingand talking and eating together as had not been experienced in OrchardGlen since the fell day the Piper came to rend the villageasunder,--the Piper, who was at this very moment cementing it againwith "Tullochgorum," which he was blowing uproariously as he marched upand down in front of the Methodist Church!
When Christina reached home she found there was little work to be done.Uncle Neil and Mitty had come home early and had already finished themilking. Sandy was tired and had stretched himself in the hammock, tohave a talk with his mother. Contrary to her custom Christina did notlay aside her white dress for a plainer garb. She spent a long timerearranging the shining crown of her braids, and when the shadows ofthe poplars began to stretch across the garden, she slipped awaythrough the barn-yard and up the back lane, up to the sun-lit hill top,where Gavin had promised to meet her.
The peace of evening was falling with the dew. From far down in thevillage came the sound of children's voices, beyond the orchards abinder was singing its way through the golden fields. Up on the hilltop there was a sense of remoteness from the world, all sound andmovement seemed far away. Only the vesper sparrows were here, fillingthe amber twilight with their soft murmurs, and away in the dim greenaisles of the Slash a phoebe was calling sweetly. Christina came upinto the light of the setting sun, and when Gavin's eyes first spiedher, its rays were lighting up her white gown and touching heruncovered head to pure gold. He took off his Scotch bonnet at thesight of her.
There was an old heavy gate opening from his fields, and Christina, whowas lingering that Gavin might come to her, saw that he was tryingvainly to open it with his one hand, his stick held under what remainedof his poor left arm. She forgot all her shyness and her pride at thesight, forgot everything but that Gavin needed her, and ran swiftly tohim, down the green woodland pathway.
She took the heavy gate in her strong, brown hands and pushed it back.
"Oh, Gavin," she cried radiantly, "I will have to be your other hand,won't I?"
Even Gavin's unready tongue could not miss this great opportunity,"Yes, you will be everything,--my whole life, Christine," he murmured.
The heavy gate between them was open at last. It had been a long, hardclimb, up their separate hills of suffering and self-sacrifice, butthey had come up steadily and bravely. And now they met, and stoodhand in hand, on the rosy hill-top.
THE END
In Orchard Glen Page 15