Полная версияJack the Hunchback: A Story of Adventure on the Coast of Maine
"That's because you're a woman," Jack replied, not a little delighted with the praise bestowed upon him.
"It may be; but I'm so very much older, it seems as if I should be able to do such things properly, and yet I can't even drive a nail."
"There'll be no need of your doin' it while I'm 'round."
"And I hope you and Louis will stay a long time; but I suppose it isn't right to say so, for although there isn't any chance his mother can be alive after the ship exploded, he has probably relatives who want to see him."
During the remainder of the day, Jack assisted the little woman with the housework, and at sunset the two sat in the favorite place under the old oak, until Louis became unusually fretful.
After trying in vain to soothe him, Aunt Nancy insisted they should retire, saying as she went toward the house, —
"I am afraid he doesn't feel very well. Are you sure he didn't play in the sun while I was away?"
"I kept him in the shade as much as I could. Do you think he can be sick?"
"Not enough for us to worry about, Jack dear. Children are apt to fuss when everything don't go just right. After I undress him, we'll read the Book, and then you shall go to bed."
The fact that Louis was not in his usual good spirits and temper worried Jack considerably, despite the little woman's cheery words, and when he went to his tiny room it was impossible for him to sleep immediately.
He had lain awake fully two hours, at times speculating as to how he and the baby would finally get to New York, and again wondering if it could be possible that both Captain and Mrs. Littlefield were dead, when the stairway door was opened, as Aunt Nancy whispered cautiously, —
"Jack! Jack dear! Are you awake?"
The boy was on his feet in an instant.
"What's the matter? Is Louis worse?"
"He seems to be quite sick. Will you dress and come down?"
Jack answered this summons very quickly as he tried to keep back the dry sob which came into his throat, for it seemed as if the greatest misfortune which could befall him would be to lose the baby at the time when he was in such a good home.
He found Aunt Nancy in the kitchen with Louis in her arms.
A fire had been built in the stove, and the little woman was seated in front of it rocking the baby as she stirred the boiling contents of a tin kettle.
"Do you know what catnip is when you see it growing?" she asked as Jack entered the room.
"I don't; but if you'll tell me where to go, I'll hunt for it."
"Light the lantern, so there won't be any mistake, and run out to the lane. You'll find some growing along the fence. Get as much as will fill this kettle, and come back as soon as you can."
"Is he very bad?" Jack asked in a trembling voice as he gazed at the baby's flushed cheeks.
"I never have had much experience with children, but I guess a little catnip tea will bring him around all right by morning."
"Hadn't we better have a doctor?"
"There is no need yet, and, besides, there isn't one within six miles."
"It don't make any difference how far it is, I'm willin' to walk any distance for him."
"We will first see what the morning brings forth."
Jack delayed no longer.
The lantern was lighted, and he started at once in search of an herb he did not even know by sight.
Ten minutes later he returned with an armful of green leaves, and Aunt Nancy bestowed but one hasty glance upon them when she cried, —
"O Jack, Jack, you've spent your time gathering burdocks! If you can hold the baby, I'll go after it myself."
"I'd rather try ag'in than have you go out where the grass is wet with dew."
"It won't hurt me. Take Louis"; and the little woman put the baby in Jack's arms as she hurried away, lantern in hand.
It seemed to Jack as if she had but left the house before she returned with the desired herb, and the boy said in surprise, —
"Is that what you call catnip? I saw plenty of it, but didn't think the leaves were big enough to do any good."
"In this world it isn't the big things which are capable of working the most benefit, Jack."
"If I hadn't known that before, I should after seeing you, Aunt Nancy. You're small, but there couldn't be anybody gooder."
Although the little woman said nothing, it could readily be seen that the compliment pleased her.
She bustled around much like a busy sparrow, putting the herbs in the kettle, making sundry mysterious decoctions, and otherwise preparing such things as she thought might be of benefit to the baby.
Jack held Louis meanwhile, and before Aunt Nancy was ready to take him again he asked in a low tone, —
"Do you think there is any chance he would die?"
"I don't believe he is in any danger now, Jack dear; but all of us should think of death as something which will come sooner or later."
The boy was silent for a moment, and then he asked abruptly, —
"You pray for everything you want, why don't you do it now so he'll be sure to live?"
"It wouldn't be right to ask God simply for the child's life."
"Why not?"
"Because He doeth all things well, and we do not know what His purpose may be."
"But there can't be any good come of takin' Louis away from me, when he's all I've got."
"That is something you don't know, Jack dear. What God does is right, and we must bow to His will."
Aunt Nancy spoke in such a solemn tone, or, as Jack afterward expressed it, "like as if she was in meetin'," that the boy could say no more, but watched intently every move the little woman made until she was ready to take the baby in her arms once more.
This night was a long one to both, for neither thought of going to sleep.
Once Aunt Nancy insisted Jack should lie down; but he pleaded so hard to be allowed to remain awake, that she said no more, and the two sat with Louis until daybreak.
During this long time neither spoke until the baby had fallen asleep, and Jack was on the point of going out to milk the cow, when the little woman said in a tone very like that of fear, —
"Wouldn't it be a dreadful thing if I should be punished for telling a lie to Mr. Pratt, by losing Louis just now when we are living so comfortably?"
"But you didn't tell a lie," Jack replied just a trifle impatiently.
"Both you and I know I did, however much we may try to persuade ourselves that it isn't so, and I am certain some punishment will follow."
Jack shook his head incredulously.
He began to understand that it would be useless to attempt to convince Aunt Nancy she had not committed a grievous sin, and was disposed to lose faith in a religion which would condemn so good a woman for having saved himself and the baby from much trouble.
To avoid paining her by saying what was in his mind, he went out to milk, and on returning found the baby sleeping naturally.
"He seems much relieved," Aunt Nancy said as she put him to bed. "He will probably sleep a long while, and you had better get some rest."
Jack insisted that he did not need any, and continued doing such chores as he could find around the house until breakfast was ready, after which he proposed going to the post-office.
"Now the letter is written it had better be mailed, an' perhaps there are some things you want from the store."
"I do need a few notions; but it seems too bad to have you walk so far this hot morning."
"It'll do me good. I can be back by noon, and the weather won't be very warm while I'm goin' over."
Aunt Nancy allowed herself to be persuaded, because there really were some groceries she wanted, and after making out a list with infinite care, cautioning him not to pay more than five cents a pound for the coarse sugar and eighty cents for the tea, she gave him a lunch to be eaten during the return journey.
"I don't want you to stay any longer than is necessary; but at the same time you mustn't hurry too fast," she said, as he walked rapidly down the lane; and Jack replied, —
"I'll be back by noon, unless something terrible happens."
Although the hunchback could not move as fast as more favored boys, he "kept at it," to use his favorite expression, and by this means was able to get over the ground with reasonable rapidity.
He was travelling steadily on, thinking of the baby and Aunt Nancy's apparently needless sorrow at having acted a lie during Mr. Pratt's call, when he was aroused to a sense of what was passing around him by hearing the disagreeably familiar voice of Bill Dean, as he shouted, —
"Hold on there a minute, I want to see you."
Bill was coming across the fields at full speed, and, knowing he could not escape if the bully should pursue him, Jack halted.
"So you're tryin' to hide behind Aunt Nancy's apron strings, eh?" Master Dean cried as he reached the road.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, yes, you do. Didn't you send her over to tell my father that I was goin' to drive you out of town, an' didn't she let on about the lickin' we give you?"
"That was her business. I tried to stop her, for I can 'tend to my own battles."
"Perhaps you can; we'll see about that later. Say, what of that man who was over here huntin' for you?"
Jack's cheeks grew pale.
He understood to whom Bill referred, and it seemed positive the whole story would be known, despite the sacrifice made by Aunt Nancy.
"Haven't got anything to say, eh? Well, I'm goin' to see him, an' tell where you are, then we'll see how you like tattlers."
Jack was frightened beyond the power of speech.
He had no idea but that his enemy knew exactly where to find Mr. Pratt, and firmly believed the time was near at hand when he and Louis would be forcibly taken away from Aunt Nancy's kindly care.
"That don't seem to strike you very well!" Bill cried with a laugh of triumph. "We'll have this thing fixed up in short order, an' then I reckon old Nancy will be ready to hire boys who know their business."
"What makes you jump down on me?" Jack asked piteously.
"You know mighty well. We told you what to do, an' you thought we didn't mean business. Now you'll soon find out."
Jack hadn't the heart to hold any further conversation with his tormentor.
His only thought was to hurry on that he might be alone where the matter could be calmly discussed in his own mind, and walked swiftly away, followed by Bill's jeering words.
Now indeed he had a cup running over with sorrow. If his enemies knew of Mr. Pratt, it would not be long before that gentleman learned of his whereabouts, and it surely seemed as if the time had finally come when he must start out on the long journey, leaving behind the dearest friend he had ever met since the day when his mother crossed the dark river.
"There's no help for it," he said resolutely, "an' I've got to look at this thing right. Bill will tell the farmer right away, an' the sooner we leave the farther we'll be off when they come to find us."
Thus the matter was settled in his mind that the flight should be resumed at the earliest moment it might be safe to take Louis out of doors.
Chapter XI
GARDENING
It can readily be supposed Jack was not inclined to linger on the road after this interview with Bill Dean.
That the latter would inform Farmer Pratt of his whereabouts he had no doubt, and this was a method of driving him "out of town" for which he was not prepared.
Walking at full speed, running over the descending ground, and trying to keep on at a good pace when he ascended hills, the journey to Treat's store was accomplished in a remarkably short time.
He found many customers before him, however, and was obliged to wait until it should be his turn, although he felt quite certain every moment was precious.
It was the proprietor of the establishment, who also acted as postmaster, that waited upon him, and while weighing out the "notions" Aunt Nancy had sent for, the gentleman said, as if answering his own question, —
"So you've been hired by Aunt Nancy."
"I'm stayin' there a little while, sir."
"You are, eh? Where do you hail from?"
Jack hesitated an instant, and then replied with a forced laugh, —
"I s'pose I oughter say I belong to the farm, 'cause I haven't any other home."
"An orphan, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where did your folks useter live?"
Jack was not aware that Mr. Treat had the name of being the most inveterate gossip in the neighborhood; but felt positive there was no good reason why he should satisfy his curiosity on this point, more particularly since, in view of Bill Dean's threats, he wished to keep as a secret everything concerning himself, therefore said with an assumption of carelessness, —
"Almost anywhere. You see I was brought up to be a sailor."
"Sho! Is that so? Well now I wouldn't think you'd make much of a fist shinnin' 'round on the riggin'."
"Even if I am crooked I might be as spry as other fellers."
"That's a fact; but you don't look it"; and then the worthy Mr. Treat turned his attention to the list Aunt Nancy had written for Jack's guidance.
When the goods had been made ready the proprietor of the store would have questioned the messenger further, but the latter hurried away without replying to what he did not consider it was necessary strangers should know.
Jack arrived at the farm unusually early, and Aunt Nancy exclaimed as he came up the lane looking heated and breathless, —
"Well, I declare! It does beat all how you can get over the ground! Why, I've known it to take Daniel Chick's horse a good bit longer to go to the post-office and back."
"I was in a hurry to talk with you, an' so come as quick as I could, for I'm afraid Louis an' I must go away, even after all that's been done."
The little woman looked up quickly in mingled alarm and surprise.
"Why, what has happened, Jack dear?"
For reply the boy repeated that which Bill Dean had said, and added in conclusion, —
"You see Mr. Pratt will be over here the minute he hears the news, an' then everything is settled the wrong way."
"Are you certain Bill Dean knows where he lives?"
"Of course he must, else he wouldn't have said what he did."
"I'm sorry to have to doubt his word; but I couldn't put the least dependence in a thing he says, and there are more than me in this town of the same opinion. Besides, he is too indolent to walk so far."
"Still there's a chance he might send some word."
"You are right, Jack; but at the same time I wouldn't borrow trouble. In case that man should come, you can find some way of keeping out of his clutches until I see the 'Squire."
"What good would that do?"
"I don't know; but it does seem as if we might prevent him from carrying you and the baby away when I'm not only willing but anxious to have you both stay with me. I don't believe there is any law to compel children who have a good home to go to a poorhouse, and if there is the least bit more bother I'm going to have the matter settled once and for all in the 'Squire's court."
Aunt Nancy spoke in such a decided tone, and seemed so thoroughly convinced there was a legal remedy for the trouble, that Jack felt relieved at once.
"I could get out of his way, no matter how close he got to me; but there's the baby. It might be I was where I couldn't find Louis quick enough when the farmer came, an' then he'd soon drag him away."
"The baby will be with me, and I promise you there'll be no dragging when I'm around," the little woman said with considerable dignity. "Keep up your courage, and I'm sure we shall come out all right, except for that miserable action of mine yesterday. If I had told the truth then and defied him, things would seem a great deal smoother now."
"Then I'll hold on a while longer."
"Certainly, and in the future stay close around the house, so those terrible boys can't make mischief. Did you ever do any gardening, Jack?"
"Do you mean plantin' seeds an' makin' 'em grow?"
"I mean cultivating the ground. No one can force the seeds to grow but He who rules over all. I would dearly love to have a few string beans and some cabbages, but it's so expensive hiring the land ploughed that I haven't been able to afford it."
"I could dig up a good deal with a shovel."
"If you'll try it I will get the seeds, and perhaps we shall have the pleasure of harvesting our own crops."
Jack was so relieved in mind that he did not feel any fatigue because of the long walk, and insisted on beginning work in the garden at once.
Despite all Aunt Nancy could say against it, he labored industriously with the shovel during the next two hours, and at the end of that time as much ground had been prepared as the little woman thought necessary.
"It won't do to try too much at first," she said musingly, as, with Louis in her arms, she watched the deformed boy make ready the small plot between the woodshed and barn. "I'll see about the seeds to-morrow, and it does seem as if we might put in more than cabbages and beans now that we've got so much room. I didn't suppose you would care to dig up very much."
"It isn't such hard work but that I'd be willin' to make one twice this size; as it is, I reckon you can plant pretty nearly all you want."
Then Aunt Nancy, looking very grave as if the task was one of the greatest importance, measured the plot into rows, putting in little bits of wood to mark where each kind of seed should be planted, and when it was finished she looked thoroughly happy.
"We shall have a famous garden, Jack dear, and it won't be necessary for me to spend so much money for vegetables when the summer boarders come. They always wonder why I don't raise my own green stuff."
The garden and the plans concerning it gave both so much pleasure that, for the time being at least, Farmer Pratt was almost forgotten.
The chores occupied Jack's time during the remainder of the day, and when he retired it was to fall asleep almost immediately because of fatigue.
Early next morning Aunt Nancy visited one of the neighbors to procure seeds, and when another night came every row was planted.
During the three succeeding days Jack remained near the house, never going farther away than the main road, where he spent his spare time watching for Farmer Pratt.
It surely seemed as if Bill Dean was ignorant of the gentleman's address, or, as Aunt Nancy had suggested, was too indolent to make the journey to Scarborough, for nothing was seen or heard of Tom's father, and Jack began to feel a certain sense of security.
Louis was as contented as a child well could be, and each day claimed more of the little woman's affections until she actually began to look forward with dismay to the coming of the summer boarders, because then she could not devote to him so much of her time.
Never once was the nightly search for burglars omitted; and when Jack asked why such a labor was necessary when it was positive no one could enter the house during the day without her knowledge, she replied with an ominous shake of the head, —
"We can't say, Jack dear, what might happen. I have done this same thing for the last fifteen years, and don't intend to be careless now in my old age."
"But you never found anybody, did you?"
"No, and I hope I never shall; but it would be impossible to sleep if I neglected what seems like a solemn duty."
On the fourth day after the garden was planted both Jack and Aunt Nancy visited it twice to see if the seeds had sprouted, and several times did the sight of a weed cause them the greatest joy for a few moments, since it seemed certain something in the vegetable line had shown itself.
Like Farmer Pratt, Bill Dean remained out of sight, and the little woman was confident she had frightened him away.
"We can count on being left alone this summer, Jack dear, for he won't show his head around here. In all the years I have lived on the farm, when I went to his father was the first time I ever made a complaint to a neighbor, and I hope it will be the last, for I do think people should avoid troubling others with such things. We are told that we must forgive our brother seventy times seven; but there was no use in doing that by William, since it made no difference to him whether he was forgiven or not."
Jack was not so confident that those who threatened to drive him away had relinquished their purpose; but he said nothing regarding his fears, since no good could come of alarming the little woman. The day on which the first cabbage showed two tiny leaves above the surface was a red-letter day for the amateur gardeners.
Aunt Nancy spent at least two hours admiring it, and the seat under the big oak was abandoned at sunset in order that she might search for further proofs of their success.
"There is so much pleasure in having a garden that I shall never again be without one, that is," she added with a sigh, "if I have you with me. I can't bear to think that the time may come when we must part."
"May come? Why, it must come, Aunt Nancy. Just as soon as the weather gets cool, we are bound to start."
"I have been thinking perhaps Louis hasn't any relatives living, and in that case what would prevent you and he from staying here until I go down into the valley of the shadow of death?"
"Nothing would suit me better," Jack replied emphatically. "This is the first home I have ever known, and it will be hard to leave it."
"If you do go, Jack dear, it will be a lonely old woman you leave behind. I had gotten accustomed to living alone; but now it is different, and the house would seem deserted without you and the baby. Yet I am afraid something of the kind must happen to punish me for telling Mr. Pratt a lie. It is through a crime that I was enabled to enjoy your company, and we know what are the wages of sin."
Jack was not disposed to allow the conversation to continue in this channel.
He could not bring himself to believe the little woman had done anything wrong in letting Farmer Pratt think he and Louis were not there, and it made him impatient to hear her blame herself so severely.
"You see, Aunt Nancy, we would have to leave whether you done as you did or not, for how can we tell whether Capt. Littlefield or his wife are alive unless we go to find out?"
"Oh, Abner will attend to all that! He lived in York State so long that he knows nearly every one in it by this time, and when we hear from him the whole story must be known, for interesting himself in other people's affairs is what exactly suits Abner."
Jack could not be satisfied with this reply.
He believed implicitly everything Aunt Nancy told him, and she was so positive that there appeared to be no chance for doubt.
The little woman was called from the contemplation of the garden by that which, for a moment, caused Jack the greatest alarm.
The rattle of wheels was heard from the road, and an instant later Aunt Nancy said in surprise, —
"Mercy on us! who can that be driving up the lane?"
"It is the farmer comin' for us!" Jack cried excitedly as he caught Louis from Aunt Nancy's arms, and would have run off at full speed if she had not restrained him.
"Wait a moment, my child. I don't see any man in the wagon."
Jack looked quickly in the direction of the newcomers and then said, —
"There are two women, but one of them may be Mrs. Pratt."
Again he would have sought refuge in flight but for Aunt Nancy's detaining hand.
"It is only Mrs. Hayes and Mrs. Souders. I suppose they have come to make a call, and what will they think at seeing the house in such confusion?"
Jack, now that his fears were allayed, could not repress a smile at the idea of Aunt Nancy's house ever being in anything save a cleanly and orderly condition; but the little woman appeared really distressed because she had not had an opportunity to inspect it thoroughly before receiving company.
"Take care of Louis, and stay under the oak-tree until I come out again," she said, hurrying away to receive the newcomers.
Jack loitered near the barn where he would not be seen until the visitors had alighted, tied securely the aged horse, whose only ambition appeared to be to remain motionless, and entered the house.
Then, instead of doing as Aunt Nancy had suggested, he took Louis into the woodshed, amusing him there for nearly an hour, when the two ladies departed.
"Where are you, Jack?" the little woman called softly when the horse had drawn the wagon and its occupants on to the highway.