CHAPTER IV

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 2, 1 May 1903, Page 103

CHAPTER IV

fHE second crop of roses was over, and Miss Cray icy looking forward to chrysanthemums long before her <ri^" nephew mentioned leaving. " I was asked yesterday by an old identity, and consequently a privileged idiot, if I intended settling here/ he said to his aunt one morning. They were moving clumps or bulbs. Miss Cray ley peered into the open mouth of a sack on the path. " And what did you say to that?" she asked in an interested tone. <( Don't mix the Capes with the Dutch, Harold 1 want them separate." " I don't feel like settling anywhere," said her nephew in tones '-f unexpected gloom. The fact is, Aunt Mattie, I have never felt so unsettled in my life." Miss Crayley looked at him attentively. " You have enjoyed your stay, J hope," she said. " I never thought you would find the place attractive enough to stay the time you have. I hope you have not been goodnatured enough to do it for my sake." Her sweet voice had a tinge of mockery in it. Her nephew looked up at her doubtfully, and -she smiled at him with a world of kindness and understanding in her eyes. " You are a brick, Aunt Mattie," he said gratefully, and no more was said. Aunt Mattie left him to superintend the small maid's idea of jam making. Moving about the house, she heard him singing, tunefully and vigorously : " My love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June."

" And so she is," said Aunt Mattie to herself as she weighed the sugar, " and a good little rose too. 1 am sure I wish the dear lad would propose and be happy ; but he is absurdly diffident in this matter. I daresay it is very becoming on his part ; but there all men are fools." She scolded the little maid in her softest tones for not having the blackberries ready.

Timothy Haggart was so profoundly interested in the friendship between the Dragon and his teacher, that it almost kept him out of mischief. He haunted the neighbourhood of the enchanted garden. He shadowed the unconscious couple when they walked home from church together. Miss Wildon never spent an evening at Miss Crayley's house without Timothy's knowledge. Sitting with his back against the fence outside, he listened to the sound of music within, and sometimes a voict so clear and. sweet came through the open windows that Timothy could hear the words of the song. That his conduct was peculiar never occurred to him ; and if it had, would probably not have troubled him. Sometimes they came out into the garden and walked about— to see how the Hydrangeas looked in the moonlight. Timothy often felt annoyed because he could not hear what they said — they talked in such low voices.

One evening he received a shock. The Dragon came out alone into the garden, and after walking about moodily for some time, he paused quite close to Timothy on the other side, and said audibly and with emphasis —

" I am a confounded coward \" He threw away his cigar, and turned and walked indoors. Timothy, after securing the cigar, sped home to brood over this piece of information. " Wonder what makes him a coward ? What's he frightened of, any way ?" " A great chap like that a coward I" thought Timothy. Presently he had a great ideti. His eyes shone and sparkled wicked- '' I'll do it," he said aloud. I ain't going to I'et teacher make up with a coward, so there !" He went to bed and slept peacefully. -X- * # . # A couple of days later tho weather changed. A strong westerly wind brought rain and clouds. Miss Wildon drew the fascinating little red hood of her cloak over her curls, and set out cheerfully for choir practice. She played the harmonium in the building known as the church, but which was really an old Mission house, and not at all ecclesiastical in appearance. Harold Crayley had joined the choir during, his stay, and helped considerably with his fine tenor voice and thorough musical knowledge. It is just possible that Miss Wildon thought of him when she put on that red hood. He invariably walked home with her, so how could she help it ? She was a little late, and when the practice was over she stayed to lock the harmonium and sort some music. Harold Crayley stayed also — to put out the lights, and then they left the building together. The rain had ceased but a gusty wind was blowing dark clouds across the moon. While passing a. tall briar hedge, a waving spray of the prickly shrub caught Miss Wildon' s hood, and they stopped to disentangle it. The moon shone out as Crayley touched the red hood reverently* and showed him her face gay with youth and happiness, and the little, bare, curly head thrown backward so as not to strain the captured

hood. He was very close to her, and his heart beat uncomfortably fast. There is no knowing how courageous he might have become, but just then the briar sprang back to its place, and she was free. They turned the corner., and then a little shriek of horror from Miss Wildon and an exclamation from Cray ley broke the silence that had failjn between them. Miss Wildon grasped her companion's arm with both hands and asked wonderingly : " What is it ? Oh ! What is it ?'' A tall figure, draped in white with one long arm extended, holding what appeared to be a human head with gleaming eyes, was standing in the middle of the road. " Don't be frightened," said Harold quickly. " Someone is playing us a trick. I must teach him a lesson. Let me go !" But Miss Wildon, though Harold thought her an angel, was only human and very feminine. "Oh ! don't go and leave me here ! What is it ?" She held him if anything tighter than before. Harold Crayley lost his head. " You must let me go, my pei>," he said tenderly. " Stand by that gate across the way, and you will be all right, my darling." She released hisi arm hurriedly and turned and fled round the corner toi a, gate 1 leading into a paddock. There she waited in terrified silence. Supposing Harold were hurt— shot or knocked on the head, or something dreadful like that—? She ought not to have left him ! But she was such a coward. Yet in the midst of all her fear something thrilled her through with pure delight. He had called her " pet " and " darling." Hark ! He was calling her. Without a moment's hesitation she ran to him. He was bending over a long white figure lying prone on the road. He looked up at her. " It's as I thought," he said. " Someone playing a foolish trick, and I fear I've hurt him seriously. He fell on his head. Help me."

In silence she knelt by him, and together they unwound the sheet from the body of the supposed ghost. A pair of stilts accounted for the height of the figure, and a carved hollow pumpkin for the head, and a lighted candle for the gleaming eyes inside. Presently Miss Wildon gave a startled cry — " It's Timothy .Haggart," aha said. "Oh ! Harold, what have you done V She did not know she had called him " Harold/

" Raise his head," was all he said. " I expect he's stunned by the fall."

The moon was shining triumphantly bright now, and Timothy looked small and white lying on the road. Crayley took off his coat, thrust the stilts through the army, and buttoned the coat. Then he lifted the little figure gently and laid him on the coat.

"In case he has some bones broken we must carry him so."

Miss Wildon understood readily, and lifting the stilts together, they fell into step and marched forward.

" I shall take him to Aunt Mattie. It is close by, and she knows something about ambulance work," said Crayley.

Timothy was borne slowly and quietly along the garden path where, a few hours' before, his activity would have been his only safety. The little maid, crossing the hall with the supper- tray in her hands, caught sight of the trio on the steps and crash ! went the tray bringing Miss Crayley quickly to the scene.

"Murder ! Funerals ! Corpses !'' cried the maid. Then she tried to faint, but Miss Crayley slapping her firmly and with intent to hurt, she thought better of it, and only beat heir hands wildly in the direction of the door.

"A cup and two saucers and the red sugar basin/ said Miss Crayley in a resigned tone. " Quite gone, arid not to be replaced in the colonies."

"■ Never mind the crockery, Aunt/ said Crayley. "There is

something more valuable broken here, I'm afraid/

" It's a matter of opinion/ <aid Aunt Mattie, who prided herself on never being surprised at anything that happened in the bush. Nevertheless she was a little astonished when Harold and Miss Wildon Said their burden in the hall.

" It's that imp of a Haggart boy, I know/ she said. " I knew he would come to a bad end/ But even as she spoke, Timothy's eyes opened, and he looked up at her vacantly for a moment, and then closed them again.

" Put him in the spare room, Harold, and then go for the doctor. You can tell his parents afterwards. A pretty thing to have happened, truly."

So Timothy was put in the big white bed in the spare room of the house with the enchanted garden.

A little later, Timothy woke with a dreamy consciousness that the lines had somehow fallen unto him in pleasant places. A scent sweet and subtle was in his nostrils, and the broad whiteness of his pillows was a thing 1 to marvel about. He was marvelling quietly, when a cool hand was placed on his forehead. Miss Crayley, holding 1 her knitting 1 in one hand, was looking down at him with satisfaction in every line of her face. Timothy stared at her with a Hast-thou-found-me-O-mine-enemy look in his wide eyes.

" How do you feel now, Timothy V said Miss Crayley, gently. Her voice was as sweet and delicate as the scent of lavender in the white sheets.

"I'm all right/ said Timothy, hoarse with surprise. Then, moving' his arms, he groaned. " What's yer doing with me, anyway, and why am I here ? My head feels queer." His hands went up to his curls, and he found bandages. Memory- returned to him with a rush, and he sat up quickly.

'■' I were a ghost," he said excit-

edly, " and the gentleman ain't a coward after all. He " Miss Crayley placed her hands on his shoulders and laid him down again. " Yes/ she said, "he knocked you down, and you hurt your head. You must keep quiet now, and you will be quite well in a few days.'' " He said lie were a coward/ said Timothy positively, " and he ain't. I were an awful ghost, I " " Drink this," said Miss Crayley. She held a glass of something to his lips, and Timothy swallowed it obediently before he had time to realise he was obeying an order. " Tell teacher," he said drowsily, "he ain't a coward. Not by a long chalk." His eyes closed and he slept. Miss Crayley returned to her seat by the fire, and knitted briskly for a few minutes. Then she laid her work on her lap, and clasping Ler idle hands together, she leant forward and gassed into the fire. Who knows what shape an old woman's thoughts take when she gazes into the glowing embers ? Truly her days of castle-building are over. In her life she has seen too many airy structures, " lightly, beautifully built," crumble into ruins before her eyes. Still the embers fascinate her, and though she sees no castles., perchance she sees more than youth with all its wealth of imagination and passionate desire to dip into the future, can ever see. For she gazes back over the long stretch of years that have been — she has " lived and moved and had her being " in the scenes that great Magician, Memory, summons to live again in the gloomy fire.

Miss Cray ley sat thinking until the arch of embers fell in with a soft crash. She rose and looked long at Timothy's sleeping face.

" A little child/ she said, at last, softly. '" A little human plant flourishing in a bed choked with the weeds of mismanagement and dishonesty. God surely meant you to live and grow in a soil less evil. You have no chance, little boy, no

chalice. Without proper support and training 1 you will grow crooked like the people round you. Poor little fellow, I have a good mind to take you in hand — try what transplanting into a fresh soil will do. No doubt you will need much pruning — no doubt whatever." She smoothed the counterpane, and began to pace softly up and down the room.

When the settlement knew thai Miss Crayley had, in its own language, " sort of adopted " Timothy Haggart, the knowledge only intensified the general conviction that she was wanting. Timothy thought so at first, but with the quickness of childhood he soon discovered her real worth, and her motive in taking him into her household. He responded to her kindness with the shy diffidence of one not accustomed to receiving kindness. Gradually lie learned to watch for her with shy, loving eyes, and then all was plain sailing between them. The woman seeing he was pliable as a, willow wand, rejoiced that Providence had placed it within her power to train him up in the way he should go. His parents parted with him readily enough for a lump sum down and a small yearly .remuneration. Jt paid the rent, a thing Timothy could not do, and there was one mouth less to feed. The plan would never answer, they felt assured ; Timothy would be back on their hands before long, so they made hay philosophically while the sun shone. But the days and the weeks and the months passed, and Timothy— God bless him — did not return. He went away with Miss Crayley as soon as he was well again. The gates of the enchanted garden were locked and the house closed, with the exception of two rooms for the use of the woman in charge. The flowors bloomed in their seasons behind the high walls, and when the roses were out, Harold Crayley and the school teacher were married. Everyone agreed that the bride looked as

pretty as the flowers the children strewed before her. They went home, and the Settlement knew them no more, and another teacher reigned in the school-house.