Georgina of the Rainbows

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER XXXI

  COMINGS AND GOINGS

  OUT towards the cranberry bogs went the Towncrier. No halting step thistime, no weary droop of shoulders. It would have taken a swift-footedboy to keep pace with him on this errand. He was carrying the news toBelle. What he expected her to say he did not stop to ask himself, nordid he notice in the tumultuous joy which kept his old heart pounding atunwonted speed, that she turned white with the suddenness of histelling, and then a wave of color surged over her face.

  Her only answer was to lead him into the room where the old net-menderlay helpless, turning appealing eyes to her as she entered, with thelook in them that one sees in the eyes of a grateful dumb animal. Hisgaze did not reach as far as the Towncrier, who halted on the thresholduntil Belle joined him there. She led him outside.

  "You see for yourself how it is," was all she said. "Do as you thinkbest about it."

  Out on the road again the Towncrier stood hesitating, uncertain whichcourse to take. Twice he started in the direction of home, then retracedhis steps again to stand considering. Finally he straightened up with adetermined air and started briskly down the road which led to the centerof the town. Straight to the bank he went, asking for Mr. Gates, and amoment later was admitted into the president's private office.

  "And what can I do for you, Uncle Dan'l?" was the cordial greeting.

  The old man dropped heavily into the chair set out for him. He was outof breath from his rapid going.

  "You can do me one of the biggest favors I ever asked of anybody if youonly will. Do you remember a sealed envelope I brought in here the firstof the summer and asked you to keep for me till I called for it?"

  "Yes, do you want it now?"

  "I'm going to show you what's in it."

  He had such an air of suppressed excitement as he said it and hisbreathing was so labored, that Mr. Gates wondered what could havehappened to affect him so. When he came back from the vault he carriedthe envelope which had been left in his charge earlier in the summer.Uncle Darcy tore it open with fingers that trembled in their eagerness.

  "What I'm about to show you is for your eyes alone," he said. He tookout a crumpled sheet of paper which had once been torn in two and pastedtogether again in clumsy fashion. It was the paper which had beenwadded up in the rifle, which Belle had seized with hysterical fury,torn in two and flung from her.

  "There! Read that!" he commanded.

  Mr. Gates knew everybody in town. He had been one of the leadingcitizens who had subscribed to the monument in Emmett Potter's honor. Hecould scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyes as he read theconfession thrust into his hands, and he had never been more surprisedat any tale ever told him than the one Uncle Darcy related now of theway it had been found, and his promise to Belle Triplett.

  "I'm not going to make it public while old Potter hangs on," he said inconclusion. "I'll wait till he's past feeling the hurts of earth. ButMr. Gates, I've had word that my Danny's coming home. I can't let theboy come back to dark looks and cold shoulders turned on him everywhere.I thought if you'd just start the word around that he's all right--thatsomebody else confessed to what he's accused of--that you'd seen theproof with your own eyes and could vouch for his being all right--if_you'd_ just give him a welcoming hand and show you believed in him itwould make all the difference in the world in Danny's home-coming. Youneedn't mention any names," he pleaded. "I know it'll make a lot of talkand surmising, but that won't hurt anybody. If you could just dothat----"

  When the old man walked out of the president's office he carried hishead as high as if he had been given a kingdom. He had been given whatwas worth more to him, the hearty handclasp of a man whose "word was asgood as a bond," and the promise that Dan should be welcomed back to thetown by great and small, as far as was in his power to make that welcomecordial and widespread.

  * * * * *

  Dan did not wait in Washington while Doctor Huntingdon made his report.He came on alone, and having missed the boat, took the railroad journeydown the Cape. In the early September twilight he stepped off the car,feeling as if he were in a strange dream. But when he turned into one ofthe back streets leading to his home, it was all so familiar andunchanged that he had the stranger feeling of never having been away. Itwas the past ten years that seemed a dream.

  He had not realized how he loved the old town or the depth of hislonging for it, until he saw it now, restored to him. Even the familiar,savory smells floating out from various supper tables as he passedalong, gave him keen enjoyment. Some of them had been unknown all thetime of his wanderings in foreign lands. The voices, the type offeatures, the dress of the people he passed, the veriest trifles whichhe never noticed when he lived among them, thrilled him now with asense of having come back to his own.

  Half a dozen fishermen passed him, their boots clumping heavily. Herecognized two of them if not as individuals, as members of families hehad known, from their resemblance to the older ones. Then he turned hishead aside as he reached the last man. He was not ready to be recognizedhimself, yet. He wanted to go home first, and this man at the end wasPeter Winn. He had sailed in his boat many a time.

  A cold fog was settling over the Court when he turned into it. Assilently as the fog itself he stole through the sand and in at the gate.The front door was shut and the yellow blind pulled down over thewindow, but the lamp behind it sent out a glow, reaching dimly throughthe fog. He crept up close to it to listen for the sound of voices, andsuddenly two blended shadows were thrown on the blind. The old man washelping his wife up from her rocking chair and supporting her with acareful arm as he guided her across to the table. His voice rang outcheerfully to the waiting listener.

  "That's it, Mother! That's it! Just one more step now. Why, you're doingfine! I knew the word of Danny's coming home would put you on your feetagain. The lad'll be here soon, thank God! Maybe before anothernightfall."

  A moment later and the lamp-light threw another shadow on the yellowblind, plain as a photograph. It was well that the fog drew a white veilbetween it and the street, for it was a picture of joy too sacred forcurious eyes to see.

  _Danny had come home!_

  * * * * *

  It was the tenth of September. The town looked strangely deserted withnearly all the summer people gone. The railroad wharf was the only placewhere there was the usual bustle and crowd, and that was because the_Dorothy Bradford_ was gathering up its passengers for the last trip ofthe season.

  Richard was to be one of them, and a most unwilling one. Not that he wassorry to be going back to school. He had missed Binney and the gang, andcould hardly wait to begin swapping experiences with them. But he wasleaving Captain Kidd behind. Dogs were not allowed in the apartmenthouse to which his father and Aunt Letty intended moving the next week.

  There had been a sorry morning in the garage when the news was broken tohim. He crept up into the machine and lay down on the back seat, andcried and cried with his arms around Captain Kidd's neck. The faithfullittle tongue reached out now and then to lap away his master's tears,and once he lifted his paw and clawed at the little striped shirt waistas if trying to convey some mute comfort.

  "You're just the same as folks!" sobbed Richard, hugging the shaggyhead, laid lovingly on his breast. "And it's _cruel_ of 'em to make megive you away."

  Several days had passed since that unhappy morning, however, and Richarddid not feel quite so desolate over the separation now. For one thing ithad not been necessary to give up all claim on Captain Kidd to insurehim a good home. Georgina had gladly accepted the offer of half of him,and had coaxed even Tippy into according him a reluctant welcome.

  The passengers already on deck watched with interest the group near thegang-plank. Richard was putting the clever little terrier through hiswhole list of tricks.

  "It's the last time, old fellow," he said imploringly when the doghesitated over one of them. "Go on and do it for me this once. MaybeI'll never see
you again till I'm grown up and you're too old toremember me."

  "That's what you said about Dan's coming home," remarked Georgina fromunder the shade of her pink parasol. That parasol and the pink dress andthe rose-like glow on the happy little face was attracting even moreadmiration from the passengers than Captain Kidd's tricks. Barbara,standing beside her, cool and dainty in a white dress and pale greensweater and green parasol, made almost as much of a picture.

  "You talked that way about never expecting to see Danny till you weregrown," continued Georgina, "and it turned out that you not only sawhim, but were with him long enough to hear some of his adventures. Itwould be the same way about your coming back here if you'd just keephoping hard enough."

  "Come Dicky," called Mr. Moreland from the upper deck. "They're about totake in the gang-plank. Don't get left."

  Maybe it was just as well that there was no time for good-byes. Maybe itwas more than the little fellow could have managed manfully. As it washis voice sounded suspiciously near breaking as he called back over hisshoulder, almost gruffly:

  "Well you--you be as good to my half of him as you are to yours."

  A moment or two later, leaning over the railing of the upper deck hecould see Captain Kidd struggling and whining to follow him. But Barbyheld tightly to the chain fastened to his collar, and Georgina, herprecious pink parasol cast aside, knelt on the wharf beside thequivering, eager little body to clasp her arms about it and pour out aflood of comforting endearments.

  Wider and wider grew the stretch of water between the boat and thewharf. Richard kept on waving until he could no longer distinguish thelittle group on the end of the pier. But he knew they would be thereuntil the last curl of smoke from the steamer disappeared around LongPoint.

  "Here," said the friendly voice of a woman standing next to him. She hadbeen one of the interested witnesses of the parting. She thrust anopera-glass into his hands. For one more long satisfying moment he hadanother glimpse of the little group, still faithfully waving, stillwatching. How very, very far away they were!

  Suddenly the glass grew so blurry and queer it was no more good, and hehanded it back to the woman. At that moment he would have given all thepirate gold that was ever on land or sea, were it his to give, to beback on that pier with the three of them, able to claim that old seaporttown as his home for ever and always. And then the one thing that it hadtaught him came to his help. With his head up, he looked back to thedistant shore where the Pilgrim monument reared itself like a watchfulgiant, and said hopefully, under his breath:

  "Well, _some day_!"

  * * * * *

  Georgina, waking earlier than usual that September morning, looked upand read the verse on the calendar opposite her bed, which she had readevery morning since the month came in.

  "_Like ships my days sail swift to port, I know not if this be The one to bear a cargo rare Of happiness to me._"

  "But I _do_ know this time," she thought exultingly, sitting up in bedto look out the window and see what kind of weather the dawn hadbrought. This was the day her father was coming home. He was coming fromBoston on a battleship, and she and Barby were going out to meet him assoon as it was sighted in the harbor.

  She had that quivery, excited feeling which sometimes seizes travelersas they near the journey's end, as if she herself were a little ship,putting into a long-wished-for port. Well, it would be like that in away, she thought, to have her father's arms folded around her, to comeat last into the strange, sweet intimacy she had longed for ever sinceshe first saw Peggy Burrell and the Captain.

  And it was reaching another long-desired port to have Barby's happinessso complete. As for Uncle Darcy he said himself that he couldn't begladder walking the shining streets of heaven, than he was going alongthat old board-walk with Danny beside him, and everybody so friendly andso pleased to see him.

  Georgina still called him Danny in her thoughts, but it had beensomewhat a shock the first time she saw him, to find that he was a grownman with a grave, mature face, instead of the boy which Uncle Darcy'sway of speaking of him had led her to expect. He had already been up tothe house to tell them the many things they were eager to know aboutthe months he had spent with Doctor Huntingdon and their long trip hometogether. And listening, Georgina realized how very deep was the respectand admiration of this younger man for her father and his work, andeverything he said made her more eager to see and know him.

  Uncle Darcy and Dan were with them when they put out in the motor boatto meet the battleship. It was almost sunset when they started, and theman at the wheel drove so fast they felt the keen whip of the wind asthey cut through the waves. They were glad to button their coats, evenup to their chins. Uncle Darcy and Dan talked all the way over, butGeorgina sat with her hand tightly locked in her mother's, sharing hertense expectancy, never saying a word.

  Then at last the little boat stopped alongside the big one. There were afew moments of delay before Georgina looked up and saw her father comingdown to them. He was just as his photograph had pictured him, tall,erect, commanding, and strangely enough her first view of him was withhis face turned to one side. Then it was hidden from her as he gatheredBarby into his arms and held her close.

  Georgina, watching that meeting with wistful, anxious eyes, felt herlast little doubt of him vanish, and when he turned to her with hisstern lips curved into the smile she had hoped for, and withoutstretched arms, she sprang into them and threw her arms around hisneck with such a welcoming clasp that his eyes filled with tears.

  Then, remembering certain little letters which he had re-read many timeson his homeward voyage, he held her off to look into her eyes andwhisper with a tender smile which made the teasing question a joy toher:

  "Which is it now? 'Dear Sir' or 'Dad-o'-my-heart?'"

  The impetuous pressure of her soft little cheek against his face wasanswer eloquent enough.

  As they neared the shore a bell tolled out over the water. It was thebell of Saint Peter, patron saint of the fisher-folk and all those whodwell by the sea. Then Long Point lighthouse flashed a welcome, and thered lamp of Wood End blinked in answer. On the other side Highland Lightsent its great, unfailing glare out over the Atlantic, and the oldTowncrier, looking up, saw the first stars shining overhead.

  Alongshore the home lights began to burn. One shone out in FishburnCourt where Aunt Elspeth sat waiting. One threw its gleam over the edgeof the cranberry bog from the window where Belle kept faithfulvigil--where she would continue to keep it until "the call" came torelease the watcher as well as the stricken old soul whose peace sheguarded. And up in the big gray house by the break-water, where Tippywas keeping supper hot, a supper fit to set before a king, lightsblazed from every window.

  Pondering on what all these lights stood for, the old man moved awayfrom the others, and took his place near the prow. His heart was toofull just now to talk as they were doing. Presently he felt a touch onhis arm. Georgina had laid her hand on it with the understanding touchof perfect comradeship. They were his own words she was repeating tohim, but they bore the added weight of her own experience now.

  "It _pays_ to keep Hope at the prow, Uncle Darcy."

  "Aye, lass," he answered tremulously, "it does."

  "And we're coming into port with all flags flying!"

  "_That_ we are!"

  She stood in silent gladness after that, the rest of the way, her curlsflying back in the wind made by the swift motion of the boat, the whitespray dashing up till she could taste the salt of it on her lips; alittle figure of Hope herself, but of Hope riding triumphantly into theport of its fulfillment. It was for them all--those words of the oldpsalm on which the rainbow had rested, and which the angel voice hadsung--"_Into their desired haven._"

  THE END

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Notes:

  Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

  Page 12, "somthing" changed to "something" (if it were s
omething)

  Page 23, "Portugese" changed to "Portuguese" (A Portuguese woman on one)

  Page 33, "far" changed to "for" (gladly for an hour's)

  Page 33, "Portugese" changed to "Portuguese" (with two littlePortuguese)

  Page 214, "make" changed to "made" (picture made Georgina)

  Page 223, "loose" changed to "lose" (to lose track of)

  Page 229, "disappont" changed to "disappoint" (shade of disappointment)

  Page 263, "spotches" changed to "splotches" (brown splotches on her)

  Page 283, "way" changed to "day" (spend the day at the Gray)

  Page 289, "stiffle" changed to "stifle" (tried to stifle them)