CHAPTER VI

CHARLIE STILL IN COMMAND

MISS VALE arrived on Monday, and the little girls fell in love with her. She was very pretty, with bright, dark eyes, and a quick, cheerful manner. But they found she was very firm and strict in some things, and lessons could not be trifled with.

"I shall not give you any lessons you cannot prepare, and when I come I expect to find them done. If they are not, I shall conclude it is idleness that is the cause and will deal with it accordingly."

This sounded very alarming, but the children found that she was right, and that there was no excuse for their lessons not being learnt.

She came from nine o'clock to one, and they had an hour every afternoon in which they did what they called their "prep" for her.

Charity and Hope did everything together, Faith could not keep up with them. She was slow and persevering, but not very clever at books. Yet Miss Vale, if she had any preference, liked to teach her the best of the three, for her whole heart was in what she did, and she was extremely conscientious.

In a few days' time, Faith was allowed to go to see Charlie. His mother met her at the door.

"My boy did too much with you that day. He has been in bed ever since. His father says there must be no voyages down the stream for a long time to come, so don't encourage him to talk about it."

Faith was taken into the sitting-room, where Charlie lay on the couch, looking very white and frail, but he greeted her most cheerfully:

"Come on, Ben. Isn't it hard lines for me?"

"What's been the matter with you?" asked Faith in a sympathetic tone.

"Oh temperature; it's always that. My head nearly bursting and I'm hot as fire! But I'm all right now. What have you been doing?"

Faith gave an account of their days since last they met, and from being very bright Charlie's spirits sank, and he began to talk most gloomily.

"It's no use my trying to do anything like other fellows. If God had made me a girl, I shouldn't have minded half so much, but boys are meant to be strong, and I think it's a shame I shouldn't be. I quite hate myself sometimes. If I was meant to be weak and ill, I oughtn't to have been born a boy. It was a big mistake."

"But," said Faith with rather a shocked look, "God borned you, and He can't make mistakes. And I don't see why girls should be ill and not boys. Besides, Charlie, if you aren't strong outside, you can be inside. I was talking with my friend Timothy about you. He said:"

"'It wasn't any odds about the body, it's the soul that really matters.'"

"Don't you like people with strong souls?"

"I don't know what they're like," Charlie said, staring at her.

Faith's eyes grew big and glowed with light as she replied:

"Oh, they're heroes!—Always smiling at difficult days and going straight on with their heads up, even if they're hurt. I've thought about them a lot. And I'm hoping the Comforter will make my soul grow big and strong. I should like never to cry when I'm hurt, and never grumble when things are horrid! And keep smiling even if the whole world turned against me and trampled me down!"

Faith spoke with such fervour that Charlie was much impressed.

She added:

"We all think you have a strong soul because you're so cheerful."

"Oh, I'm not!" said Charlie. "I've been beastly to Mother I'm so awfully disappointed that Dad won't let me go on the raft. It's the one thing I really enjoy! There's nothing else I can play at. It does seem a shame."

"We play lots of games," said Faith, "and we've no raft."

"No, but you are girls, and you can run about, and climb trees. I've had a miserable time shut up here all alone."

"I suppose," said Faith shyly, "you wouldn't like the Comforter to stay with you? I think you would feel better if He did. I don't know Him very well yet, but Timothy talks to me about Him. And I think it's so wonderful that He likes coming and living with boys and girls and making them happy and good and strong!"

"What do you mean?" asked Charlie.

"Timothy told me about Him first. If you're ill and unhappy, He would like to come to you and comfort you. That's why He's called the Comforter. Wherever He goes He comforts, and He does it perfectly, because, you know, He is God."

Faith's voice sank to an awed whisper.

"What a funny girl you are!" said Charlie. "You seemed as if you were talking about a real person!"

"But the Comforter is real."

"Well, a real person is somebody you can see."

"If you can't see Him, you can hear Him," said Faith gravely. "There are lots of real things we can't see. The wind—"

"Oh, I know, but you're preaching a sermon."

"Am I?"

Faith subsided into silence. Presently she said:

"Then I can't tell you how to be happy and comforted, if you won't believe what Timothy says."

"Can you find out this puzzle?"

Charlie would have no more serious talk; and produced a little puzzle box with a padlock which opened itself in a wonderful way; Faith was interested at once. She paid him quite a long visit, and when the time came for her to go, Charlie produced two packets which he charged her to give to the wife and to Bolt.

"They're my wishes," he said. "You signed on to do what I told you for a year, and I'm still in command, though I'm ill!"

"Aye, sir, aye!" said Faith, saluting him in best style.

Then she went home, and Charity and Hope opened their packets eagerly.

There was a great deal of paper but not much writing. Charity's was as follows:

"Captain Charles sends greetings to his wife. He wishes her to find the Pirate's Haunt, and let me know his house and his riteful name. She must make the journey by land, but she must not fale to do it. For a lot hangs on the Finding! And she must rite the name in sekrecy and seal her letter with a red seal and send it through the post. And if she does not keep it sekret death will o'ertake her.

"(Signed) CAPTAIN CHARLES."

Hope opened hers and found a strange map, drawn in red ink by Charlie. This was the letter accompanying it.

"Captain Charles to his humble and devotted servant Bolt. I charge you to studey this map, and to find on your walks the place that is called Boggy Glen. There is a wonderful herbe therein, called Wild peppermint, whichesame will releave the Captain of his mortal sicknes, and is to be sent to me in a sealed letter by poste with no derlay.

"(Signed) CAPTAIN CHARLES."

"What fun!" cried Hope. "You and me, Charity, will have to be busy!"

"And he's given me nothing to do," said Faith, feeling aggrieved; "nothing at all."

"You're his messenger," said Charity, "you must take back answers to these notes. A King's messenger is most important, and so is a Captain's messenger."

Faith's face brightened. She took back two notes the next day to the doctor's house, but did not see Charlie. These were the notes:

"MY DEAR HUSBAND,

"I'm sorry you're sick, but I'll find the Pirate in a jiffy. I wish you had told me to hang him or something difficult like that, but after all I don't want him hanged, because he was very kind. I mustn't let him know of course. I'll criep about like a spy and follow his tracks. I think I've already found out his name. But I'll write it hidden in a sentence and you'll have to find it out. Good-bye and good luck.

"Your sooperior WIFE."

"MY DEAR CAPTAIN,

"I will find the heeling herb, no fear about that! And I'll make a potion of it to be swallowed at midnight in the dark. And you will rise up early a hale and harty man. So three cheers for our Captain and his crew.

"Yours as signed, BOLT."

Faith had these letters read aloud to her and she thought them wonderfully clever.

The very next day, Charity and Hope set off on their different quests. Faith wandered out alone. She called at Timothy's cottage, but he was out; and then she rambled on through some fields, and made her way along a strange lane, which had banks of primroses on each side. Presently she saw a hole through the hedge; she crept through, and then she started, for two men were talking together. They were standing by a rick of hay, and she heard one man say with passion in his tone:

"I tell you, Fielding, I'm so dead sick of rotting here like a vegetable, when I might be up and doing with the rest of the working world, that at times I feel inclined to make a bolt for it!"

"It's hard lines," murmured the other man, and then the two separated.

One went on across the field, the other turned and faced Faith, and she saw it was the Pirate. Just for a moment he looked as if he were going to pass her without speaking, and his brows were knitted so fiercely, and his face so gloomy, that Faith was frightened. He stood still, as he saw her shrinking into the hedge, and then his brow cleared.

"Why, it's one of the treasure seekers, isn't it?" he said in his pleasant voice.

Then Faith held out her small hand.

"I'm so glad you will speak to me," she said, "I should have been so disappointed, if you hadn't."

"Would you? And what are you doing alone here?"

"Just walking about and trying to amuse myself," answered Faith. "Charity and Hope have gone off to do errands for Charlie, but I've none to do."

For a moment she was tempted to tell him that Charity was looking for him, then she remembered that Charlie said it was to be kept a secret, so she shut her lips determinedly.

"Well, I'm an idle person too. We'll take a walk together, I want to go to Dapperton Bridge to see if there's a chance of any salmon there. Will you come with me?"

"Is it very far? I should love to."

"No, it is only half a mile further on."

He took hold of her hand, and chatted about different things till they came to the bridge; then he leant his arms on it, and as he gazed at the river flowing beneath, his face became gloomy again, and absorbed. Faith stood by his side and watched him, then she put her little hand softly on his arm.

"Are you very unhappy?" she asked.

He started, but did not look at her; his eyes were on the rushing water.

"I am not exactly happy, child," he said, slowly; "my life is distasteful. I'm a discontented grumbler, that's what I am. How did you find it out?"

"I heard you speak to that other man," said Faith, truthfully. "You said you were sick of it or something like it."

"So I did. Little pitchers have long ears they say, but it's true."

They were silent for a moment or two.

"Do you know a friend of mine called Timothy Bendall?" asked Faith suddenly.

"I'm afraid I haven't that pleasure."

"He's an old man, a shepherd who has a cottage all his own, and he lets me come in and talk to him. He's told me how all the unhappy people in the world can get happy, every one of them."

The young man gave a short laugh.

"And what is the wonderful recipe? How is it done?"

Faith looked up at him with shining eyes.

"They get to know the Comforter, and fancy! I didn't know He was in the world. Nobody ever talks about Him. Timothy says He loves unhappy people. It's what He keeps in the world for, instead of living in heaven, just to comfort them and make them happy. I suppose you know Him, don't you?"

"What an old-fashioned mite you are! I didn't know children thought about such things—they're never unhappy."

"Oh, we are, we are," said Faith eagerly. "Charlie is miserable because he's ill, and can't go any more on his raft, and we cry often and often. I haven't cried so much lately, because I've asked the Comforter to come and live with me. You can't cry very well when you feel Him quite close to you. I think you'd find He would make you very happy. If you went to Timothy, he would tell you all about Him. He reads bits of the Bible out to me. The Comforter is really God, you know. He came into the world when Jesus went out of it. Jesus sent him, so that nobody should feel sad."

"Go on," said the young man with a smile; "tell me more. You're quite a little preacher."

And then Faith got scarlet in her cheeks and stopped speaking.

"Charlie said I preached a sermon," she murmured. "I don't mean to do it, but it's so new to me, I like talking about it to people. Charity and Hope laugh at me, but they're hardly ever unhappy for long. I won't say any more. Have you seen any fish yet?"

"I like listening to you. Go on talking about this Comforter."

But Faith would say no more.

He did not press her, and presently the sight of a big fish rising with a splash seized her attention.

Then the Pirate began telling Faith about some wonderful salmon he had caught. He told her his name, which was the same as the children had heard—Fred Cardwell. He also told her about his poor sick father.

"Now, if he could believe in this Comforter you talk about, it would be a good thing for himself and every one else. Do you think you could come up one day and talk to him about it?"

"Timothy would," said Faith doubtfully; "I should be afraid to."

"But you weren't afraid of me, and my father is only a poor old sick man who hates his life, and makes everyone who comes near him as miserable as he is."

"Couldn't you tell him better than me?" said Faith, shyly.

"I'm sure I couldn't. Will you come to tea one day—you and your sisters—and play in an untidy old garden? Would you like to?"

"Oh, we should love it! We adore going out to tea, and everybody is so kind here. And we love seeing new gardens. Nobody had gardens in London."

"All right. One day I'll drive over for the three of you. Would the Captain like to come too?"

"He's ill now. Oh, how kind you are!"

Faith danced softly up and down on her toes. Then her friend walked back to the village with her and she ran home and told Granny all about her meeting.

Granny was amused.

"You children seem making friends with everybody," she said. "But don't set your heart upon people's promises. They often go their way and forget. A grown-up man does not often care to entertain children."

When Charity and Hope came home they had as much to tell Faith as she had to tell them.

Hope had found the wild peppermint in the right place. She had been studying her map as she walked along the road, and the old Rector came up and told her at once how she could find Boggy Glen. It was over some fields behind a pine wood. Charity had not been so fortunate, but the post office woman had told her that the Towers was the name of Mr. Cardwell's place, and a carrier's cart passed it every Wednesday.

"If only Miss Vale would give us a holiday, I could go," said Charity, "but she won't. And I'm not quite sure that the Pirate is Mr. Cardwell."

"But I'm sure," cried Faith delightedly, "because I've been talking to him, and we're all going to his house to tea very soon."

Then she told her story, and Charity was not best pleased.

"You've been doing what I ought to have done," she said. "You'd no business to go and speak to him. You ought to have come off and told me where he was."

"But I didn't know where to find you," said Faith.

Charity sniffed.

"It's not secret at all if you know all about it," she said. "You've spoiled the whole thing!"

She walked out of the room as she spoke, and banged the door behind her.

Faith felt inclined to cry, but Hope told her that Charity had come home tired and cross, and that she didn't mean what she said, and when the sisters met at tea Charity was her bright self again, and quite interested about writing her sealed letter to the captain.

"I shall tell him I have gained the information from a trustworthy person, but I shan't tell him it's you," she said.

Faith brightened up.

"And you did hear about him first, didn't you?" she cried.

Charity nodded.

"It will be fun if we go to tea with him properly. Mrs. Budd, at the post office, told me it was a beautiful house, but that old Mr. Cardwell led his son a dog's life. I wonder what that means?"

No one could enlighten her.

After tea, Charity wrote her letter, and Hope was very busy soaking her mint in hot water, and pouring it into a bottle which she begged from her aunt. She managed to put a drop or two of vinegar in it and some salt, so she assured her sisters it was quite as nasty as it ought to be. And then there was a great fuss sealing the packages up. Granny found an odd bit of sealing wax she lent them. Charity read her sentence out proudly to her sisters in which the Pirate's name was buried. It was this:

"First read end down. Cut all right dates with easy little letters."

And she added below: "Follow this advice and you will find what you want."

Faith could not understand it at all, until Charity showed that the first letters of each word spelt his name, and then she thought it wonderfully clever and wondered if Charlie would discover it quickly.

She took the packages off that same evening, but only left them at the door for him, as Granny said she was not to stay, for bed-time was close at hand.

And all three children went to bed very satisfied with their day's work.