Tommy and Grizel

by J. M. Barrie

  CHAPTER VI

  GHOSTS THAT HAUNT THE DEN

  Looking through the Tommy papers of this period, like a conscientiousbiographer, I find among them manuscripts that remind me howdiligently he set to work at his new book the moment he went North,and also letters which, if printed, would show you what a wise andgood man Tommy was. But while I was fingering those, there floatedfrom them to the floor a loose page, and when I saw that it was achemist's bill for oil and liniment I remembered something I had nighforgotten. "Eureka!" I cried. "I shall tell the story of the chemist'sbill, and some other biographer may print the letters."

  Well, well! but to think that this scrap of paper should flutter intoview to damn him after all those years!

  The date is Saturday, May 28, by which time Tommy had been a week inThrums without doing anything very reprehensible, so far as Grizelknew. She watched for telltales as for a mouse to show at its hole,and at the worst, I think, she saw only its little head. That was whenTommy was talking beautifully to her about her dear doctor. He wouldhave done wisely to avoid this subject; but he was so notoriously goodat condolences that he had to say it. He had thought it out, you mayremember, a year ago, but hesitated to post it; and since then it hadlain heavily within him, as if it knew it was a good thing and pinedto be up and strutting.

  He said it with emotion; evidently Dr. McQueen had been very dear tohim, and any other girl would have been touched; but Grizel stiffened,and when he had finished, this is what she said, quite snappily:

  "He never liked you."

  Tommy was taken aback, but replied, with gentle dignity, "Do youthink, Grizel, I would let that make any difference in my estimate ofhim?"

  "But you never liked him," said she; and now that he thought of it,this was true also. It was useless to say anything about the artisticinstinct to her; she did not know what it was, and would have hadplain words for it as soon as he told her. Please to picture Tommypicking up his beautiful speech and ramming it back into his pocket asif it were a rejected manuscript.

  "I am sorry you should think so meanly of me, Grizel," he said withmanly forbearance, and when she thought it all out carefully thatnight she decided that she had been hasty. She could not help watchingTommy for backslidings, but oh, it was sweet to her to decide that shehad not found any.

  "It was I who was horrid," she announced to him frankly, and Tommyforgave her at once. She offered him a present: "When the doctor diedI gave some of his things to his friends; it is the Scotch custom, youknow. He had a new overcoat; it had been worn but two or three times.I should be so glad if you would let me give it to you for saying suchsweet things about him. I think it will need very little alteration."

  Thus very simply came into Tommy's possession the coat that was toplay so odd a part in his history. "But oh, Grizel," said he, withmock reproach, "you need not think that I don't see through you! Yourdeep design is to cover me up. You despise my velvet jacket!"

  "It does not--" Grizel began, and stopped.

  "It is not in keeping with my doleful countenance," said Tommy,candidly; "that was what you were to say. Let me tell you a secret,Grizel: I wear it to spite my face. Sha'n't give up my velvet jacketfor anybody, Grizel; not even for you." He was in gay spirits, becausehe knew she liked him again; and she saw that was the reason, and itwarmed her. She was least able to resist Tommy when he was most aboy, and it was actually watchful Grizel who proposed that he and sheand Elspeth should revisit the Den together. How often since the daysof their childhood had Grizel wandered it alone, thinking of thosedear times, making up her mind that if ever Tommy asked her to go intothe Den again with him she would not go, the place was so much sweeterto her than it could be to him. And yet it was Grizel herself who wassaying now, "Let us go back to the Den."

  Tommy caught fire. "We sha'n't go back," he cried defiantly, "as menand women. Let us be boy and girl again, Grizel. Let us have thatSaturday we missed long ago. I missed a Saturday on purpose, Grizel,so that we should have it now."

  She shook her head wistfully, but she was glad that Tommy would fainhave had one of the Saturdays back. Had he waxed sentimental she wouldnot have gone a step of the way with him into the past, but when hewas so full of glee she could take his hand and run back into it.

  "But we must wait until evening," Tommy said, "until Corp isunharnessed; we must not hurt the feelings of Corp by going back tothe Den without him."

  "How mean of me not to think of Corp!" Grizel cried; but the nextmoment she was glad she had not thought of him, it was so delicious tohave proof that Tommy was more loyal. "But we can't turn back theclock, can we, Corp?" she said to the fourth of the conspirators, towhich Corp replied, with his old sublime confidence, "He'll find away."

  And at first it really seemed as if Tommy had found a way. They didnot go to the Den four in a line or two abreast--nothing so common asthat. In the wild spirits that mastered him he seemed to be the boyincarnate, and it was always said of Tommy by those who knew him bestthat if he leaped back into boyhood they had to jump with him. Thosewho knew him best were with him now. He took command of them in theold way. He whispered, as if Black Cathro were still on the prowl forhim. Corp of Corp had to steal upon the Den by way of the Silent Pool,Grizel by the Queen's Bower, Elspeth up the burn-side, Captain Strokedown the Reekie Brothpot. Grizel's arms rocked with delight in thedark, and she was on her way to the Cuttle Well, the trysting-place,before she came to and saw with consternation that Tommy had beenordering her about.

  She was quite a sedate young lady by the time she joined them at thewell, and Tommy was the first to feel the change. "Don't you thinkthis is all rather silly?" she said, when he addressed her as the LadyGriselda, and it broke the spell. Two girls shot up into women, abeard grew on Tommy's chin, and Corp became a father. Grizel hadblown Tommy's pretty project to dust just when he was most gleefulover it; yet, instead of bearing resentment, he pretended not even toknow that she was the culprit.

  "Corp," he said ruefully, "the game is up!" And "Listen," he said,when they had sat down, crushed, by the old Cuttle Well, "do you hearanything?"

  It was a very still evening. "I hear nocht," said Corp, "but thetrickle o' the burn. What did you hear?"

  "I thought I heard a baby cry," replied Tommy, with a groan. "I thinkit was your baby, Corp. Did you hear it, Grizel?"

  She understood, and nodded.

  "And you, Elspeth?"

  "Yes."

  "My bairn!" cried the astounded Corp.

  "Yours," said Tommy, reproachfully; "and he has done for us. Ladiesand gentlemen, the game is up."

  Yes, the game was up, and she was glad, Grizel said to herself, asthey made their melancholy pilgrimage of what had once been anenchanted land. But she felt that Tommy had been very forbearing toher, and that she did not deserve it. Undoubtedly he had ordered herabout, but in so doing had he not been making half-pathetic sport ofhis old self--and was it with him that she was annoyed for ordering,or with herself for obeying? And why should she not obey, when it wasall a jest? It was as if she still had some lingering fear of Tommy.Oh, she was ashamed of herself. She must say something nice to him atonce. About what? About his book, of course. How base of her not tohave done so already! but how good of him to have overlooked hersilence on that great topic!

  It was not ignorance of its contents that had kept her silent. Toconfess the horrid truth, Grizel had read the book suspiciously,looking as through a microscope for something wrong--hoping not tofind it, but peering minutely. The book, she knew, was beautiful; butit was the writer of the book she was peering for--the Tommy she hadknown so well, what had he grown into? In her heart she had exultedfrom the first in his success, and she should have been still moreglad (should she not?) to learn that his subject was woman; but no,that had irritated her. What was perhaps even worse, she had beenstill more irritated on hearing that the work was rich in sublimethoughts. As a boy, he had maddened her most in his grandest moments.I can think of no other excuse for her.

  She would no
t accept it as an excuse for herself now. What she sawwith scorn was that she was always suspecting the worst of Tommy.Very probably there was not a thought in the book that had been putin with his old complacent waggle of the head. "Oh, am I not awonder!" he used to cry, when he did anything big; but that was noreason why she should suspect him of being conceited still. Veryprobably he really and truly felt what he wrote--felt it not only atthe time, but also next morning. In his boyhood Mr. Cathro hadchristened him Sentimental Tommy; but he was a man now, and surely thesentimentalities in which he had dressed himself were flung aside forever, like old suits of clothes. So Grizel decided eagerly, and shewas on the point of telling him how proud she was of his book, whenTommy, who had thus far behaved so well, of a sudden went to pieces.

  He and Grizel were together. Elspeth was a little in front of them,walking with a gentleman who still wondered what they meant by sayingthat they had heard his baby cry. "For he's no here," Corp had saidearnestly to them all; "though I'm awid for the time to come when I'llbe able to bring him to the Den and let him see the Jacobites' Lair."

  There was nothing startling in this remark, so far as Grizel coulddiscover; but she saw that it had an immediate and incomprehensibleeffect on Tommy. First, he blundered in his talk as if he was thinkingdeeply of something else; then his face shone as it had been wont tolight up in his boyhood when he was suddenly enraptured with himself;and lastly, down his cheek and into his beard there stole a tear ofagony. Obviously, Tommy was in deep woe for somebody or something.

  It was a chance for a true lady to show that womanly sympathy of whichsuch exquisite things are said in the first work of T. Sandys: but itmerely infuriated Grizel, who knew that Tommy did not feel nearly sodeeply as she this return to the Den, and, therefore, what was he insuch distress about? It was silly sentiment of some sort, she was sureof that. In the old days she would have asked him imperiously to tellher what was the matter with him; but she must not do that now--shedare not even rock her indignant arms; she could only walk silently byhis side, longing fervently to shake him.

  He had quite forgotten her presence; indeed, she was not really there,for a number of years had passed, and he was Corp Shiach, walking theDen alone. To-morrow he was to bring his boy to show him the old Lairand other fondly remembered spots; to-night he must revisit themalone. So he set out blithely, but, to his bewilderment, he could notfind the Lair. It had not been a tiny hollow where muddy watergathered; he remembered an impregnable fortress full of men whosearmour rattled as they came and went; so this could not be the Lair.He had taken the wrong way to it, for the way was across a lagoon, upa deep-flowing river, then by horse till the rocky ledge terrified allfour-footed things; no, up a grassy slope had never been the way. Hecame night after night, trying different ways; but he could not findthe golden ladder, though all the time he knew that the Lair laysomewhere over there. When he stood still and listened he could hearthe friends of his youth at play, and they seemed to be calling: "Areyou coming, Corp? Why does not Corp come back?" but he could never seethem, and when he pressed forward their voices died away. Then at lasthe said sadly to his boy: "I shall never be able to show you the Lair,for I cannot find the way to it." And the boy was touched, and hesaid: "Take my hand, father, and I will lead you to the Lair; I foundthe way long ago for myself."

  It took Tommy about two seconds to see all this, and perhaps anotherhalf-minute was spent in sad but satisfactory contemplation of it.Then he felt that, for the best effect, Corp's home life was toocomfortable; so Gavinia ran away with a soldier. He was now so sorryfor Corp that the tear rolled down. But at the same moment he saw howthe effect could be still further heightened by doing away with hisfriend's rude state of health, and he immediately jammed him betweenthe buffers of two railway carriages, and gave him a wooden leg. Itwas at this point that a lady who had kept her arms still too longrocked them frantically, then said, with cutting satire: "Are you notfeeling well, or have you hurt yourself? You seem to be very lame."And Tommy woke with a start, to see that he was hobbling as if one ofhis legs were timber to the knee.

  "It is nothing," he said modestly. "Something Corp said set methinking; that is all."

  He had told the truth, and if what he imagined was twenty times morereal to him than what was really there, how could Tommy help it?Indignant Grizel, however, who kept such a grip of facts, would makeno such excuse for him.

  "Elspeth!" she called.

  "There is no need to tell her," said Tommy. But Grizel was obdurate.

  "Come here, Elspeth," she cried vindictively. "Something Corp said amoment ago has made your brother lame."

  Tommy was lame; that was all Elspeth and Corp heard or could think ofas they ran back to him. When did it happen? Was he in great pain? Hadhe fallen? Oh, why had he not told Elspeth at once?

  "It is nothing," Tommy insisted, a little fiercely.

  "He says so," Grizel explained, "not to alarm us. But he is sufferinghorribly. Just before I called to you his face was all drawn up inpain."

  This made the sufferer wince. "That was another twinge," she saidpromptly. "What is to be done, Elspeth?"

  "I think I could carry him," suggested Corp, with a forward movementthat made Tommy stamp his foot--the wooden one.

  "I am all right," he told them testily, and looking uneasily atGrizel.

  "How brave of you to say so!" said she.

  "It is just like him," Elspeth said, pleased with Grizel's remark.

  "I am sure it is," Grizel said, so graciously.

  It was very naughty of her. Had she given him a chance he would haveexplained that it was all a mistake of Grizel's. That had been hisintention; but now a devil entered into Tommy and spoke for him.

  "I must have slipped and sprained my ankle," he said. "It is slightlypainful; but I shall be able to walk home all right, Corp, if you letme use you as a staff."

  I think he was a little surprised to hear himself saying this; but, assoon as it was said, he liked it. He was Captain Stroke playing in theDen again, after all, and playing as well as ever. Nothing being soreal to Tommy as pretence, I daresay he even began to feel his anklehurting him. "Gently," he begged of Corp, with a gallant smile, andclenching his teeth so that the pain should not make him cry outbefore the ladies. Thus, with his lieutenant's help, did Stroke manageto reach Aaron's house, making light of his mishap, assuring themcheerily that he should be all right to-morrow, and carefully avoidingGrizel's eye, though he wanted very much to know what she thought ofhim (and of herself) now.

  There were moments when she did not know what to think, and thatalways distressed Grizel, though it was a state of mind with whichTommy could keep on very friendly terms. The truth seemed toomonstrous for belief. Was it possible she had misjudged him? Perhapshe really had sprained his ankle. But he had made no pretence of thatat first, and besides,--yes, she could not be mistaken,--it was theother leg.

  She soon let him see what she was thinking. "I am afraid it is tooserious a case for me," she said, in answer to a suggestion from Corp,who had a profound faith in her medical skill, "but, if youlike,"--she was addressing Tommy now,--"I shall call at Dr. Gemmell's,on my way home, and ask him to come to you."

  "There is no necessity; a night's rest is all I need," he answeredhastily.

  "Well, you know best," she said, and there was a look on her facewhich Thomas Sandys could endure from no woman. "On secondthoughts," he said, "I think it would be advisable to have a doctor.Thank you very much, Grizel. Corp, can you help me to lift my foot onto that chair? Softly--ah!--ugh!"

  His eyes did not fall before hers. "And would you mind asking him tocome at once, Grizel?" he said sweetly. She went straight to thedoctor.