The Long Vacation Read online

"But why did you send the fisher-boy first, when after all his life was less important?" exclaimed Anna, breaking forth at last.

  "First, for the reason that I strove to impress on 'the youthful baronet,' Noblesse oblige. Secondly, that Davy knew how to make his way along the rocks, and also knew where to find the Preventive station. I could leave him to get on, as I could not have done with the precious Adrian, and that gave a much better chance for us all. It was swimming work by the time I got back, and by that time I thought the best alternative for any of us was to keep hold as long as we could, and then keep afloat as best we might till we were picked up. Your boy was the hero of it all. Adrian was so angry with me for my disrespect that I could hardly have got him to listen to me if Fergus had not made him understand, that to let himself be passive and be floated by me till the boats came up was the only thing to be done. There was one howl when he had to let go his beloved aralia, but he showed his soldier blood, and behaved most manfully."

  "I am most thankful to hear it," said his father, "and especially thankful to you."

  "Oh! there was not much real danger," said Gerald lightly, "to any one who could swim."

  "But Adrian could not," said Anna. "Oh! Gerald, what do we not owe to you?"

  "I must be off," said Sir Jasper; "I must see about a new jacket for my boy. By the bye, do you know how the little Davy fared in the matter of clothes?"

  "Better than any of us," said Gerald. "He was far too sharp to go mud-larking in anything that would be damaged, and had his boots safe laid up in a corner. I wish mine were equally safe."

  Sir Jasper's purchases were not confined to boots and jacket, but as compensation for his hard words included a certain cabinet full of drawers that had long been Fergus's cynosure.

  Anna and her aunt were much concerned at what was said of Adrian, and still more at the boastful account that he seemed to have given; but then something, as Mrs. Grinstead observed, must be allowed for the reporter's satisfaction in having interviewed a live baronet. Each of the parties concerned had one hero, and if the Merrifields' was Fergus, to their own great surprise and satisfaction, Aunt Cherry was very happy over her own especial boy, Gerald, and certainly it was an easier task than to accept "the youthful baronet" at his own valuation or that of the reporter.

  Mrs. Grinstead considered whether to try to make him less conceited about it, and show him his want of truth. She consulted his uncle about it, showing the newspaper, and telling, and causing Gerald to tell, the history of the accident, which Clement had not been fit to hear all the day before.

  He was still in bed, but quite ready to attend to anything, and he laughed over the account, which she illustrated by the discoveries she had made from the united witnesses.

  "And is it not delightful to see for once what Gerald really is?" she said.

  "Yes, he seems to have behaved gallantly," said his uncle; "and I won't say just what might have been expected."

  "One does expect something of an Underwood," she said.

  "Little Merrifield too, who saw the danger coming, deserves more honour than he seems to have taken to himself."

  "Yes, he accepted severity from that stern father of his, who seems very sorry for it now. It is curious how those boys' blood comes out in the matter-chasser de race."

  "You must allow something for breeding. Fergus had not been the idol of a mother and sisters, and Gerald remembered his father in danger."

  "Oh, I can never be glad enough that he has that remembrance of him! How like him he grows! That unconscious imitation is so curious."

  "Yes, the other day, when I had been dozing, I caught myself calling out that he was whistling 'Johnny Cope' so loud that he would be heard in the shop."

  "He seems to be settling down more happily here than I expected. I sometimes wonder if there is any attraction at Clipstone."

  "No harm if there were, except-"

  "Except what? Early marriage might be the very best thing."

  "Perhaps, though sometimes I doubt whether it is well for a man to have gone through the chief hopes and crises of life so soon. He looks out for fresh excitement."

  "There are so many stages in life," said Geraldine, sighing. "And with all his likenesses, Gerald is quite different from any of you."

  "So I suppose each generation feels with those who succeed it. Nor do I feel as if I understood the Universities to-day as I did Cambridge thought of old. We can do nothing but wait and pray, and put out a hand where we see cause."

  "Where we see! It is the not seeing that is so trying. The being sure that there is more going on within than is allowed to meet one's eye, and that one is only patronized as an old grandmother-quite out of it."

  "I think the conditions of life and thought are less simple than in our day."

  "And to come to the present. What is to be done about Adrian-the one who was not a hero, though he made himself out so?"

  "Probably he really thought so. He is a mere child, you know, and it was his first adventure, before he has outgrown the days of cowardice."

  "He need not have told stories."

  "Depend upon it, he hardly knew that he did so."

  "He had the reporter to help him certainly, and the 'Rockquay Advertiser' may not keep to the stern veracity and simplicity of the 'Pursuivant'."

  "And was proud to interview a live baronet."

  "Then what shall we do-Anna and I, I mean?"

  "Write the simple facts to Vale Leston, and then let it alone."

  "To him?"

  "Certainly. He would think your speaking mere nagging. Preserve an ominous silence if he speaks. His school-fellows will be his best cure."

  "Well, he did seem ashamed!"

  Clement was right. The boy's only mention of the paragraph was once as "that beastly thing"; and Anna discovered from Valetta Merrifield, that whatever satisfaction he might have derived from it had been effectually driven out of him by the "fellows" at Mrs. Edgar's, who had beset him with all their force of derision, called him nothing but the "youthful Bart.," and made him ashamed as none of the opposite sex or of maturer years could ever have succeeded in doing. Valetta said Fergus had tried to stop it, but there had certainly been one effect, namely, that Adrian was less disposed to be "Merry's" shadow than heretofore, and seemed inclined instead to take up with the other seniors.

  One thing, however, was certain. Gerald enjoyed a good deal more consideration among the Clipstone damsels than before. True, as Jasper said, it was only what any one would have done; but he had done it, and proved himself by no means inferior to "any one," and Fergus regarded him as a true hero, which had a considerable effect on his sisters, the more perhaps because Jasper derided their admiration.

  They were doubly bent on securing him for a contributor to the Mouse- trap. They almost thought of inviting him to their Browning afternoons, but decided that he would not appreciate the feminine company, though he did so often have a number of the 'Censor' to discuss it with Dolores, whenever they met him.

  CHAPTER XII. THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY

  The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral.-Hamlet.

  The Matrons, otherwise denominated lady patronesses, met in committee, Miss Mohun being of course the soul and spirit of all, though Mrs. Ellesmere, as the wife of the rector of old Rockstone Church, was the president, Lady Flight, one of the most interested, was there, also Lady Merrifield, dragged in to secure that there was nothing decided on contrary to old-world instincts, Mrs. Grinstead, in right of the musical element that her brother promised, the beautiful Mrs. Henderson, to represent the marble works, Mrs. Simmonds of the Cliff Hotel, the Mayoress, and other notables.

  The time was fixed for the first week in August, the only one when engagements would permit the Rotherwood family to be present for the opening, and when the regatta was apt to fill Rockquay with visitors. The place was to be the top of the cliffs of Rockstone, where the gardens of the Cliff Hotel, of Beechcroft
Cottage, Rocca Marina, and Carrara, belonging respectively to Miss Mohun, Mr. White, and Captain Henderson, lay close together separated by low walls, and each with a private door opening on a path along the top of the cliffs. They could easily be made to communicate together, by planks laid over the boundaries, and they had lawns adapted for tents, etc., and Rocca Marina rejoiced in a shrubbery and conservatories that were a show in themselves, and would be kindly lent by Mr. and Mrs. White, though health compelled them to be absent and to resort to Gastein. The hotel likewise had a large well-kept garden, where what Mrs. Simmonds called a pavilion, "quite mediaeval," was in course of erection, and could be thrown open on the great day.

  It was rather "tea-gardenish," but it could be made available for the representation of The Outlaw's Isle. Lancelot made a hurried visit to study the place, and review the forces, and decided that it was practicable. There could be a gallery at one end for the spectators, and the outer end toward the bay could be transformed into a stage, with room for the orchestra, and if the weather were favourable the real sea could be shown in the background. The scenes had been painted by the clever fingers at Vale Leston. It remained to cast the parts. Lancelot himself would be Prospero, otherwise Alaster Maclan, and likewise conductor, bringing with him the school-master of Vale Leston, who could supply his part as conductor when he was on the stage. His little boy Felix would be Ariel, the other elves could be selected from the school-children, and the local Choral Society would supply the wreckers and the wrecked. But the demur was over Briggs, a retired purser, who had always had a monopoly of sea- songs, and who looked on the boatswain as his right, and was likely to roar every one down. Ferdinand would be Gerald, under the name of Angus, but the difficulty was his Miranda-Mona as she was called. The Vanderkists could not be asked to perform in public, nor would Sir Jasper Merrifield have consented to his daughters doing so, even if they could have sung, and it had been privately agreed that none of the other young ladies of Rockquay could be brought forward, especially as there was no other grown-up female character.

  "My wife might undertake it," said Lancelot, "but her voice is not her strong point, and she would be rather substantial for a Miranda."

  "It would be rather like finding a mother instead of a wife-with all respect to my Aunt Daisy," laughed Gerald.

  "By the bye, I'm sure I once heard a voice, somewhere down by the sea, that would be perfect," exclaimed Lance. "Sweet and powerful, fresh and young, just what is essential. I heard it when I was in quest of crabs with my boy."

  "I know!" exclaimed Gerald, "the Little Butterfly, as they call her!"

  "At a cigar-shop," said Lance.

  "Mrs. Schnetterling's. Not very respectable," put in Lady Flight.

  "Decidedly attractive to the little boys, though," said Gerald. "Sweets, fishing-tackle, foreign stamps, cigars. I went in once to see whether Adrian was up to mischief there, and the Mother Butterfly looked at me as if I had seven heads; but I just got a glimpse of the girl, and, as my uncle says, she would make an ideal Mona, or Miranda."

  "Lydia Schnetterling," exclaimed Mr. Flight. "She is a very pretty girl with a nice voice. You remember her, Miss Mohun, at our concerts? A lovely fairy."

  "I remember her well. I thought she was foreign, and a Roman Catholic."

  "So her mother professes-a Hungarian. The school officer sent her to school, and she did very well there, Sunday-school and all, and was a monitor. She was even confirmed. Her name is really Ludmilla, and Lida is the correct contraction. But when I wanted her to be apprenticed as a pupil-teacher, the mother suddenly objected that she is a Roman Catholic, but I very much doubt the woman's having any religion at all. I wrote to the priest about her, but I believe he could make nothing of her. Still, Lydia is a very nice girl-comes to church, and has not given up the Choral Society."

  "She is a remarkably nice good girl," added Mrs. Henderson. "She came to me, and entreated that I would speak for her to be taken on at the marble works."

  "You have her there?"

  "Yes; but I am much afraid that her talents do not lie in the way of high promotion, and I think if she does not get wages enough to satisfy her mother, she is in dread of being made to sing at public- houses and music-halls."

  "That nice refined girl!"

  "Yes; I am sure the idea is dreadful to her."

  "Could you not put her in the way of getting trained?" asked Gerald of his uncle.

  "I must hear her first."

  "I will bring her up to the Choral Society tonight," said Mr. Flight.

  "What did you call her?" said Geraldine.

  "Some German or foreign name, Schnetterling, and the school calls her Lydia."

  At that moment the council was invaded, as it sat in Miss Mohun's drawing-room, upon rugs and wicker chairs, to be refreshed with tea. In burst a whole army of Merrifields, headed by little Primrose, now a tall girl of twelve years old, more the pet of the family than any of her elders had been allowed to be. Her cry was-

  "Oh, mamma, mamma, here's the very one for the captain of the buccaneers!"

  The startling announcement was followed by the appearance of a tall, stalwart, handsome young man of a certain naval aspect, whom Lady Merrifield introduced as Captain Armytage.

  "We must congratulate him, Gillian," she said. "I see you are gazetted as commander."

  Primrose, who had something of the licence of the youngest, observed-

  "We have been telling him all about it. He used to be Oliver Cromwell in 'How Do You Like It?' and now he will be a buccaneer!"

  "Oliver Cromwell, you silly child!" burst out Gillian, with a little shake, while the rest fell into fits of laughing.

  "I fear it was a less distinguished part," said Captain Armytage.

  "May I understand that you will help us?" said Lancelot. "I heard of you at Devereux Castle."

  "I don't think you heard much of my capabilities, especially musical ones. I was the stick of the party," said Captain Armytage.

  It was explained that Captain Armytage had actually arrived that afternoon at the Cliff Hotel, and had walked over to call at Clipstone, whence he found the young ladies setting out to walk to Rockstone. He could not deny that he had acted and sung, though, as he said, his performance in both cases was vile. Little Miss Primrose had most comically taken upon her to patronize him, and to offer him as buccaneer captain had been a freak of her own, hardly to be accounted for, except that Purser Briggs's unsuitableness had been discussed in her presence.

  "Primrose is getting to be a horrid little forward thing," observed Gillian to her aunt.

  "A child of the present," said Miss Mohun. "Infant England! But her suggestion seems to be highly opportune."

  "I don't believe he can sing," growled Gillian, "and it will be just an excuse for his hanging about here."

  There was something in Gillian's "savagery" which gave Aunt Jane a curious impression, but she kept it to herself.

  Late in the evening Lance appeared in his sister's drawing-room with-

  "I have more hopes of it. I did not think it was feasible when Anna wrote to me, but I see my way better now. That parson, Flight, has a good notion of drilling, and that recruit of the little Merrifield girl, Captain Armytage, is worth having."

  "If he roared like a sucking dove we would have him, only to silence that awful boatswain," said Gerald; "and as to the little Cigaretta, she is a born prima donna."

  "Your Miranda? Are you content with her?" said his aunt.

  "She is to the manner born. Lovely voice, acts like a dragon, and has an instinct how to stand and how to hold her hands."

  "Coming in drolly with her prim dress and bearing. Though she was dreadfully frightened," said Lance. "Being half-foreign accounts for something, I suppose, but it is odd how she reminds me of some one. No doubt it is of some singer at a concert. What did they say was her name?"

  "Ludmilla Schnetterling, the Little Butterfly they call her. Foreign on both sides apparently," said Gerald. "Those dainty ankles n
ever were bred on English clods."

  "I wonder what her mother is," said Mrs. Grinstead.

  "By the bye, I think it must have been her mother that I saw that morning when little Felix dragged me to a cigar-shop in quest of an ornamental crab-a handsome, slatternly hag sort of woman, who might have been on the stage," said Lance.

  "Sells fishing-tackle, twine, all sorts," came from Adrian.

  "Have you been there?" asked his sister, rather disturbed.

  "Of course! All the fellows go! It is the jolliest place for"-he paused a moment-"candies and ginger-beer."

  "I should have thought there were nicer places!" sighed Anna.

  "You have yet to learn that there is a period of life when it is a joy to slip out of as much civilization as possible," said Lance, putting his sentence in involved form so as to be the less understood by the boys.

  "Did you say that Flight had got hold of them?" asked Clement.

  "Hardly. They are R.C.'s, it seems; and as to the Mother Butterfly, I should think there was not much to get hold of in her; but Mrs. Henderson takes interest in her marble-workers, and the girl is the sort of refined, impressible creature that one longs to save, if possible. To-morrow I am going to put you all through your parts, Master Gerald, so don't you be out of the way."

  "One submits to one's fate," said Gerald, "hoping that virtue may be its own reward, as it is in the matter of 'The Inspector's Tour', which the 'Censor' accepts, really enthusiastically for a paper, though the Mouse-trap would have found it-what shall I say?-a weasel in their snare."

  "Does it indeed?" cried Anna, delighted. "I saw there was a letter by this last post."

  "Aye-invites more from the same pen," he replied lazily.

  "Too much of weasel for the 'Pursuivant' even?" said Geraldine.

  "Yes," said Lance; "these young things are apt to tear our old traps and flags to pieces. By the bye, who is this Captain Armytage, who happily will limit Purser Briggs to 'We split, we split, we split,' or something analogous?"

  "I believe," said Gerald, "that he joined the Wills-of-the-Wisp, that company which was got up by Sir Lewis Willingham, and played at Devereux Castle a year or two ago. Some one told me they were wonderfully effective for amateurs."