The Children of the Castle

by Mrs. Molesworth

glancing up he becameaware that the wind had suddenly gone down, everything had become almostunnaturally still, while a thin bluish haze seemed gathering closelyround where he stood. Bertrand rubbed his eyes.

  "There can't be smoke here," he said. "What can be the matter with myeyes?" and he rubbed them impatiently. It did no good.

  "No, that will do no good," said a voice. It seemed quite near him.

  "Look up;" and in spite of himself the boy could not help looking up.

  "_Oh_," he screamed; "_oh_, what is it? what is it?"

  For an agony, short but indescribable, had darted through his eyeballs,piercing, it seemed to him, to his very brain; and Bertrand was not insome ways a cowardly boy.

  There was silence, perfect, dead silence, and gradually the intenseaching, which the short terrible pain had left, began to subside. As itdid so, and Bertrand ventured to look up again, he saw that--what he hadseen, he could not describe it better--was gone, the haze haddisappeared, the air was again clear, but far from still, for round thecorner of the old cottage the blast now came rushing and tearing, as ifinfuriated at having been for a moment obliged to keep back; and with itnow came the rain, such rain as the inland-bred boy had never seenbefore--blinding, drenching, lashing rain, whose drops seemed to cut andsting, with such force did they fall. It added to his confusion andbewilderment. Like a hunted animal he turned and ran, anywhere to getshelter; and soon he found himself behind the house, and then thethought of the grottoes the little girls had told him of returned to hismind.

  "I won't go back into that witches' hole," he said to himself as heglanced back at the house. "I'll shelter in one of the grottoes."

  As he thought this he caught sight of an opening in the rockery beforehim. It was the entrance to the very cave where Mavis had been left byRuby. Bertrand ran in; what happened to him there you shall hear ingood time.

  CHAPTER TEN.

  "FORGET-ME-NOT LAND."

  "A world... Where the month is always June."

  _Three Worlds_.

  Ruby meanwhile was running or rather stumbling down the stones. Shecried and sobbed as she went; her pretty face had never, I think, lookedso woebegone and forlorn; for it was new to her to be really distressedor anxious about anything.

  "Mavis, Mavis," she called out every now and then, "are you theredarling? can't you answer?" as if, even had the wind been less wildlyraging, Mavis could possibly have heard her so far-off.

  And before long Ruby was obliged to stop for a moment to gather strengthand breath. The wind seemed to increase every minute. She turned herback to it for a second; the relief was immense; and just then shenoticed that she was still clutching the little bunch of flowers she hadpicked up. They made her begin to cry again.

  "Mavis loves them so," she thought, and her memory went back to thehappy peaceful afternoon they had spent with old Adam and his grandson.How kind they were, and how nice the cakes were that Winfried had madefor them himself!

  "Oh," thought Ruby, "I wish Bertrand had never come! It's all--" butthere she hesitated. There had been truth in her cousin's meanreproach, that the mischief and the cruel tricks they had planned hadbeen first thought of by _her_. And Ruby knew, too, in her heart, thatshe had not been gentle or unselfish or kind long before she had everseen Bertrand. She had not been so actively naughty because she had hadno chance of being so, as it were. The coming together of the twoselfish unfeeling natures had been like the meeting of the flint andsteel, setting loose the hidden fire.

  And besides this, for Bertrand there might have been some excuse; he hadbeen neglected and yet spoilt; he had never known what it was truly tolove any one, whereas Ruby had lived in love all her life; and this washer return for it.

  "I have killed my little Mavis," she sobbed. "Yes, it has been all me.We needn't have minded Bertrand; he couldn't have made me naughty if Ihadn't let him. Oh, Mavis, Mavis, whatever shall I do?" Her glancefell again on the flowers in her hand. They were not the least witheredor spoilt, but as fresh as if just newly gathered. They seemed to smileup at her, and she felt somehow comforted.

  "Dear little flowers," she said. Seldom in her life had Ruby spoken sotenderly. She started, as close beside her she heard a faint sigh.

  "Ruby," said a voice, "can you hear me?"

  "Yes," said the little girl, beginning to tremble.

  "But you cannot see me? and yet I am here, close to you, as I have oftenbeen before. Try Ruby, try to see me."

  "Are--are you a mermaid, or a--that other thing?" asked the child.

  There came a little laugh, scarcely a laugh, then the sigh again.

  "If you could see me you would know how foolish you are," said thevoice. "But I must have patience--it will come--your eyes are notstrong, Ruby; they are not even as strong as Bertrand's."

  "Yes, they are," said Ruby indignantly. "I've never had sore eyes in mylife, and Bertrand's have hurt him several times lately."

  "I know; so much the better for him," was the reply. "Well, good-byefor the present, Ruby. Go on to look for Mavis; you must face it all--there, the rain is coming now. Ah!"

  And with this, which sounded like a long sigh, the voice seemed to waftitself away, and down came the rain. The same swirl which had been toomuch for sturdy Bertrand was upon Ruby now, standing, too, in a far moreexposed place, with no shelter near, and the rough rocky path beforeher. She did not stand long; she turned again and began to descend,stumbling, slipping, blinded by the rain, dashed and knocked about bythe wind.

  "She might have helped me, whoever she was that spoke to me," sobbedRuby. "It isn't my fault if I can't see creatures like that. I'm notgood enough, I suppose."

  As she said these last words, or thought them, rather, a queer littlethrill passed through her, and something, in spite of herself, made herlook up. Was it--no, it could not be--she had suddenly thought a gleamof sunshine and blue sky had flashed on her sight; but no, the storm wastoo furious. "Yet still, I did," thought Ruby, "I did see somethingbright and blue, as if two of my little flowers had got up there andwere looking down on me."

  She glanced at her hand; the forget-me-nots were gone!

  "I must have dropped them," she said. "Oh dear, dear!"

  And yet as she struggled on again she did not feel _quite_ so miserable.

  Yet it was terribly hard work, and every moment her anxiety about Mavisincreased; Ruby had never _felt_ so much in all her life.

  "Who could it be that spoke to me so strangely?" she asked herself overand over again. "And what can I do to be able to see her? I wonder ifMavis has seen her, I wonder--" and suddenly there came into her mindthe remembrance of Miss Hortensia's long-ago story of the vision in thewest turret.

  "There was something about forget-me-nots in it," she thought dreamily."Could it have been true?"

  How she had mocked at the story!

  She had at last reached the shore by this time. The rain still fell inpitiless torrents, but the wind had fallen a little, and down here sheseemed rather less exposed than on the face of the cliffs. Still Rubywas completely drenched through; never before had she had any conceptionof the misery to which some of our poor fellow-creatures are exposed toalmost every day of their lives. And yet, her fears for Mavisovermastered all her other sufferings; for the first time Ruby thoughtof another more than of herself.

  "Mavis, dear little Mavis, Mavis darling, where are you?" she sobbedwildly, her teeth chattering, while terrible shivers shook her from headto foot. "Oh, it _can't_ be that she is under those dreadful, fierce,leaping waves. They look as if they were dancing in cruel joy oversomething they had got;" and a shudder worse than those caused by thecold went through the poor child.

  "Mavis," she called out at last, after she had peered round about everylarge stone, _every_ corner where her sister could possibly have triedto find shelter, without coming upon the slightest trace of either thechild or the boat, "you must be in the sea. I'll go after you; itdoesn't matter if I am drowned if you are. Perh
aps--perhaps themermaids are keeping you safe; there are kind ones among them it says inthe fairy stories."

  And she turned resolutely to the water. It was cold, icily cold as ittouched first her feet, then her ankles, then crept up to her knees; itseemed to catch her breath even before it was at all deep. Ruby felther powers going and her senses failing.

  "I shall never be able to find Mavis even if she is under the sea," shethought to herself, just as a huge wave caught her in its rollingclutch, and she knew no more.

  It seemed as if time beyond counting, years, centuries had passed whenRuby came to her senses again, enough to know that she was