CHAPTER VI

The Strangers Arrive

THE little girls did not meet for several days. The weather was bad again, and kept them confined to the house. Dreamikins missed Freda and Daffy as much as they missed her. She had been very quiet and contrite after her visit to the public-house. When Fibo asked her how she came to think of such a thing, she looked at him sweetly and gravely.

"It was Cherubine who ercited me to do it. And you read it to me yourself, Fibo. I can say the verse: 'I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink.' He told me he was thirsty, and he said beer was the only thing that did him good. He doesn't like milk or water. So I gave him drink; and when he wanted another glass, I paid for it; and I had no more money, and when he wanted more he got into a bad temper because he couldn't have it. Mr. Temple seemed to think me wicked. I'm not, am I? God understands quite well, and if Cherubine told me to do it, it must be good."

"I'm beginning to be doubtful about Cherubine," said Fibo, looking at his small niece with perplexity in his eyes. "I think you had better consult me first, next time she tells you to do risky things."

"Oh, but she wouldn't like that at all, at all," said Dreamikins hastily. "She would think it very rude of me, if I told you things she tells me; and you mustn't forget where she comes from, Fibo dear."

Fibo took this rebuke in silence, and Dreamikins moved about with great dignity for the next half-hour. Then she forgot all about it, and chased Grinders round and round the lawn till they were both exhausted.

Two days afterwards she was allowed to go to the post office by herself and post a letter for her uncle. On the way back she saw a young man leaning against his bicycle, talking to the landlord of the "Blue Boar." And as she was passing him, she heard him say:

"I'm sorry you can't put me up. I'm a stranger in these parts, and I wanted to stay the night here."

A stranger! Dreamikins' heart beat fast. She stood still in the road considering; but she never considered very long. The delightful possibility before her drove everything else out of her head. She watched the young man get upon his bicycle with rather a weary air, and then, as he rode towards her, she stepped into the middle of the road and held up her small hand authoritatively.

The young man swerved, jumped off his cycle, and said rather sharply:

"Do you want to be run over, little girl? What are you doing?"

"I'm stopping you. The policemen do it like that at Brighton."

"But what are you stopping me for?"

Dreamikins came very close to him, and laid hold of his coat sleeve.

"I've got a bed ready for you," she said, in an eager whisper, "and I've sticked pins in the cushion, and Fibo let me do it, and Cherubine and me will be very happy if you comes to-night, and please come along now."

The young man looked quite bewildered.

Did this child belong to some people who let lodgings? he wondered. If so, he was in luck's way. He recklessly determined to follow her.

"I want to sleep here to-night," he said. "I've done nearly forty miles to-day, and am dead beat."

"And you're a stranger," said Dreamikins softly. Then she tucked her hand into his.

"I've been expecking and expecking till I'm worn out."

"Did you expect me?"

"Well, no, not exackly. You're rather dusty, but you're not in rags. It doesn't say what the stranger is to be like, but I'm sure you'll do."

When she came to her uncle's house the young man hesitated, and felt uncomfortable. But she led him into the garden in joyful triumph, and took him straight up to her uncle's invalid chair.

"Fibo dear, he's comed! The stranger has comed! And his room is quite, quite ready. And I've bringed him to you, so that it may be all right."

Fibo turned. The young man bowed.

"I'm a parson on a holiday," he said, "and the inn was full, and they couldn't put me up, and this little girl assured me I should get a bed here. She wouldn't take a No from me, so I came along. My name is George Ferrers. I'm a curate in Birmingham."

Fibo held out his hand.

"I believe you've done right to come," he said, "and I don't wonder my pixie led you here. Her soul is in the adventure."

"What does it mean?" asked George Ferrers.

He looked at Dreamikins as he spoke, and she danced up and down in ecstasy, her face radiant with smiles.

"Explain it, Dreamikins," said her uncle.

Then Dreamikins stood still, and the sweet reverent look came into her face.

"It's just instead of having Jesus Christ to sleep with us," she said. "We can't have Him. I should burst with joy if I could; but He told us if we got any stranger instead of Him, it would do, and so you've come."

Then George Ferrers' eyes shone with a glad light. He understood.

"I am not worthy," he said.

There was silence for a moment. Then Fibo said heartily:

"You'll be doing us a kindness if you stay. I can't get about, and my visitors are few and far between. Dreamikins shall take you to our spare room; and make yourself at home! I dine at eight."

"I'm ever so grateful," George Ferrers answered, and then Dreamikins led him away.

She was very excited, made Clara bring some hot water, and showed him the soap she had put in the soap-dish, the pins in the pincushion, the bunch of flowers in the vase on the dressing-table. She even turned back the sheet and blankets of the bed to show him his pillows.

"I maded the bed with Clara, and she laughed all the time; and I dust the room every day with my own duster, so I know it's ready. Do you like it? Do you think it's nice?"

"I think it's just perfect," said the young man enthusiastically, and when Dreamikins at last left him, she went back to her uncle with a shining face.

"I haven't made a mistake this time, have I, Fibo? Cherubine told God how dreadfully mis'able I was over the beer that man drinked; and so God planned it all out for me to-day. Wasn't it good and sweet of Him!"

What could Fibo say? He looked very grave.

"You did quite right in bringing him straight to me, Dreamikins. You won't make mistakes if you always do that."

Whilst Dreamikins was entertaining her guest, Freda and Daffy were busy preparing for theirs. They had chosen a bedroom leading out upon a balcony in a disused wing of the house, and they had stolen into this room at different times, bringing treasures of all sorts—soap, bits of candles, towels from other rooms—and now their great difficulty was sheets and pillow-cases.

"It isn't fair," grumbled Freda; "Dreamikins has only to say, and she gets at once. Everybody is against us in this house. Even Jane won't give us matches. And he must have matches."

"I'll get some matches from Nellie," said Daffy, "and we'll wait till the stranger is really coming, and then we will give him our sheets and pillow-cases and go without ourselves. That will be very good of us, I'm sure, because I hate blankets, they tickle so!"

Every day they looked out for strangers, but none seemed to come their way. When the weather grew fine again, they thought out a plan, and that was to go down to the park wall which bordered the road. There was a part of it lower than the rest, and a tree grew close to it. Freda and Daffy were able to climb this tree and then step on to the wall. They sat here patiently, watching everybody who went along the road. Once or twice tired-looking men with knapsacks on their shoulders had passed them, but they had not the courage to speak to them or stop them. At last, one afternoon when they were sitting there an old man came along, and sat down to rest in the hedge on the opposite side of the road.

"He's a tramp and a stranger," said Freda breathlessly; "just the one!"

"Yes," assented Daffy; "we must make haste and ask him."

So Freda called out in her high clear voice:

"Good afternoon, old man; we're very glad to see you. Would you like to sleep at our house this evening? You look very tired."

The tramp looked across at them in surprise. He was not a nice-looking man. He had a thin grey beard and little cunning eyes. His hat had once been a soft black felt, now it was battered and green. He wore a dark green handkerchief round his throat. His coat was out-at-elbows, his trousers were patched at the knees, and frayed out and ragged at the hems.

"Afternoon, Missy!" he said, and his voice was the only pleasant part about him. It was cheery and brisk.

"I'm for having a nap where I am," he said.

"But where are you going to sleep to-night?" asked Daffy.

"I reckon at Doulton Union if I can walk it; but I've blistered me heel and have to go slow. And I've a thirst which rages. Mow I wonder if you've a copper to spare a tired thirsty old man?"

"We haven't any money," said Freda, in a crestfallen voice, "but we've a beautiful bedroom ready for you, and towels, and soap, and candles, and matches, and the bed will be ready for you if you say you'll come. Daffy and me are looking out for a stranger. It's in the Bible that we're to do it, and so we've got it ready."

"I'll tell you how to find the room," said Daffy, bending over from her perch in rather a dangerous fashion. "You come in at the park gates, and go round by the shrubbery to the part of the house that is shut up. The blinds are all down, and there's a balcony outside one window and steps up to it. We'll leave the window unlocked, and you can creep in when dark. Will you come?"

"Do come!" pleaded Freda. "If we can, we'll put some food inside, because you'll be wanting some supper."

"Well," said the old man slowly, "it wants turnin' over in my mind, so it do! I may step up to-night and I mayn't!"

"Oh, do promise us you will! It's no good getting your bed ready if you don't."

"Who be livin' at your house? Is the master at home?"

"Dad used to be the master, but he is dead, and Nurse says Bertie is the master now, and he's written a paper to say we can do it. Mums and Nurse and us and all the servants live there."

There was silence, then the old man looked up at them, and his small eyes twinkled.

"You go 'long with you, and put some drink as well as mate in that there bedroom, and old John Cubbs will thank 'ee kindly."

"Then you'll be there to-night?" asked Freda breathlessly.

"Ay, I reckon I may."

The children got back to the tree and climbed down.

"It seems too good to be true," said Daffy breathlessly. "Now what must we do, Freda?"

"We can't take our sheets till after we're in bed to-night; Jane would miss them; but we can get some food for him. Nellie is our only hope."

So they made their way to the back door and lay in wait for Nellie. They dared not go in. The old cook would have no children in her kitchen at any time.

When Nellie came out and heard their request, she shook her head.

"Now who's it for this time? You mustn't bring beggars about the place."

"But he's in the road now," said Freda. "Do, Nellie, just this once. He's a poor old man; think if he was your grandfather!"

Nellie tossed her head.

"My grandfeyther is a respectable man. He wouldn't be beggin' from children like you."

"Oh, he didn't beg, at least not before we spoke to him. Just a nice plate of scraps, Nellie; the best that you can spare."

Nellie went indoors. She came out again very soon with a basin in her hand.

"There, take it. The basin is cracked, so it won't be missed; but this is the very last time, Miss Freda."

The children hurried away with their basin. They smuggled it into the house, and softly crept along the passages till they came to their empty room. Once inside, they breathed more freely.

"I feel as if we're being rather sly," said Freda, "but it's Nurse who makes us so. If we hadn't a nurse we wouldn't be sly."

"But do you think Mums would like it?" questioned Daffy.

"I think if she had time to sit still till we explained she would understand. Jesus Christ wouldn't have told people they ought to do it if it wasn't right. He says distinctly: 'I was a stranger, and ye took Me in.' This old man is a stranger and we're going to take him in."

"Yes," said Daffy; "it must be right."

They looked round the room. Everything seemed ready. Freda cautiously unlocked the big French window, which led out upon the balcony.

"Suppose he doesn't stay in his bedroom," suggested Daffy, "and comes walking over the house, and Nurse met him, or Mums did, what would they say?"

"He wouldn't be likely to walk over the house in the middle of the night. He would want to sleep. But the key is on the passage side of the door; we would lock him in."

"Yes; he could get out and in by the window. Freda, will he stay more than one night?"

"I hope not. I never thought of that. Nellie won't give us another basin of food."

"She hasn't given him anything to drink."

"He must drink water out of the water-bottle. We filled it."

"The most difficult thing is to get our sheets on his bed."

"Oh, we'll do it," said Freda airily. "We'll manage it when Nurse goes down for her supper. She always has it in the housekeeper's room."

They walked round the room. The bed was a big one; there was a chintz-covered couch at the foot of it, and a big easy-chair. A writing-table was in one corner and a bookcase in the other. The carpet was thick and soft to tread upon. Damask curtains hung over the window.

"I'm sure he'll find it very comfortable," said Daffy, smelling the soap on the washing-stand.

"I wonder if he's got a hairbrush and toothbrush and all he wants?"

"Oh yes, he had a bundle. We'll put his basin on the writing-table. It has got a mutton chop in it, and some cold potatoes, and a piece of bacon, and then there's some rice pudding, and a dry bit of cake, and a piece of jam roll. But it's all mixed up. It must taste very nasty."

Freda had been carefully examining the contents of the basin. Now she placed it on the table, and then she and Daffy slipped out of the room.

"I won't lock the door till we've got the sheets in," she said.

They spent the rest of the day in anxiously thinking about the stranger's coming. When bedtime came, Daffy was almost glad.

"It seems quite a year since we saw the stranger," she said. "I do hope he'll manage to get in all right."

The little girls slept in two beds side by side in one night-nursery, Nurse and Bertie slept in the other; and the two rooms opened into each other, and the door between them was never shut.

When they were in bed Nurse left them, and went back to the day-nursery, where she and Jane sat and worked or read. It was still daylight, though the blinds were down, and directly they were left alone Freda set to work.

"We must leave our top sheets in case anybody sees. You take off your bottom one quick, Daffy, and I'll take off mine, and we must fold them up very small, and put the pillow-cases inside. There are two pillows to be covered, so we must have both of ours."

This was done after some trouble in folding them up. Then they crept back into bed again, each hugging her sheet, and waited to hear Nurse go downstairs. The time seemed long. Would she never go?