CHAPTER V
MISSING
THIS morning was lovely and hot, and directly after breakfast we went down to the sea. I can't think how people can possibly stay in the house when the sea is close to them outside. I think to live all the year by the seaside is ripping! And that's why we're so lucky to be here. Of course the boys had got hold of Davey the under-gardener, but he wouldn't have the boat out till eleven o'clock—he said he must wait for the turn of the tide. And they were so busy looking out for Pat in his sailing-boat that they didn't half enjoy themselves.
Lynette and I took off our shoes and stockings and paddled. The water seemed very cold at first, but we soon got accustomed to it, and Puff was perfectly happy messing about with sand and seaweed.
When Davey came down to the boat-house and took out the boat, we all got very excited, but the boys couldn't understand why Pat had not turned up. We all got into the boat, and Davey got two pairs of oars—he took one pair himself and Denys and Aylwin took the other between them. It was lovely flying along over the water. We watched the seagulls flying backwards and forwards from the cliffs, and saw in the distance small fishing-smacks, but we couldn't see a sign of Pat in his boat.
"He is a daring laddie," Davey said; "he'll take nobody with him, and a sailin'-boat ought to have two at least to man it. 'Tis a wonder he haven't gone to the bottom long before this."
"Perhaps something prevented him from coming out this morning," I said. "Let us forget him, Denys, and enjoy ourselves."
And then we saw land appear not so very far out at sea, and we asked what it was.
"'Tis the islands. There be four on 'em—"
"Oh how ripping!" Aylwin cried. "We'll go over and explore them. Are they big? Does any one live on them?"
"No, no, they're too small. Some goes over for seagull's-eggs, and there be some rare rock plants on one o' them. But there be too strong a current this time o' year to go near them. 'Tis dangerous at all times for small boats unless the tide be out."
So we rowed along past them, and then, when we rounded a corner of the cliffs, we all cried out at once, for there was Pat's sailing-boat. At least we made up our minds it must be, for it was a very small boat with a very big white sail which was flapping to and fro in rather a crazy fashion.
We shouted, for Davey told us our guess was right, but no Pat answered us. And then as we rowed on, we began to feel as if there was something wrong, for the boat seemed drifting about by itself, and there was no sign of anybody in it. It seemed a long time before we reached it. At first Davey was not going near it, but we made him, and though he pretended at first that Pat was most likely asleep in it, I could see he got more anxious as we came nearer.
We rowed up quite close to it, but there was no sign of any one in it. Davey told us to stay quite still where we were, and then he clambered on board. He shook his head as he took up a great-coat. "He's been here, sure enough, but where he be now is past me!"
[Illustration: WE BEGAN TO FEEL THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG.]
Then we watched him take down the sail, and then he and Denys between them managed to fasten the boat behind ours, and we towed her along. We shouted Pat's name over and over again, for we thought he might have landed on the beach, and his boat sailed off without him.
Davey said he must take us home, and then he would inquire at Miss Douglas's whether Pat had returned home. We didn't like this idea at all, for we wanted to help to look for him, but Davey wouldn't listen to us. And so we came back, and the boys helped Davey to pull up both boats on the beach and tie them outside the boat-house.
And then Denys and Aylwin told Davey that they intended to go over with him to Pat's aunt, and in the end they got Slapper and drove off. But Davey went on his cycle, and of course got there first.
Lynette and I went into the house and told Aunt Isobel about it. But she did not seem at all alarmed, said that Pat was always disappearing and turning up again. Then we had our dinner with Puff in the schoolroom, but the boys did not come back, and we hardly knew what to do with ourselves in the afternoon.
At last, Lynette took Puff across the field to see the farm that belongs to grandfather, and I went down to my favourite little garden. I had got hold of an old-fashioned story-book with mother's name in it, and I wanted to read it quite by myself, away from everybody, and think of her.
I opened the gate along the little winding path until I got to "Rosebud's" grave, and then I stopped quite taken aback, for on the old seat close by sat Aunt Isobel, reading a book!
She looked up when she heard me coming along, and I felt my cheeks getting hot.
"I—I was coming to sit here," I stammered. "I didn't know you ever came here."
It sounded rude, but I hardly knew what to say.
And then she gave me a tiny smile.
"Is there not room for both of us?" she said. "Come and sit down by me. Your mother and I used to sit here together when we were girls. You are very like her, Grisel."
"Oh, Aunt Isobel!" I exclaimed. "Mother was beautiful. I wish, I wish I could think I was like her!"
"She was not very beautiful when she was your age, but your face is the same shape, and so are your eyes and smile."
Aunt Isobel was looking at me very steadily, and I felt almost shy. I sat down, and then I suddenly thought I might ask her about the little grave. So I did, and she told me that it was a favourite doll of mother's, and she was nearly heart-broken when the puppies destroyed it, and would never have another doll afterwards. She was ten years old when it happened, and she used to come down and plant flowers on the grave, and this was always her favourite part of the garden.
And then—I don't know how it was, but I found myself talking quite freely to Aunt Isobel about everything. She seemed more sad than stern to me. And she asked me a lot of questions about us all. I said to her:
"I feel so old now that father has gone away from us, and I am afraid of not doing what he wanted. May I tell you his last words to me? Perhaps you could explain them. We have tried to understand them. The Bible helped us. He said to me—I shall never, 'never' forget his earnest tone!—
"'Grisel—remember—tell the boys—I charge you! Hold fast, Hold fast.'
"You see it is our charge, and we want to do it. We think he meant we must hold fast to all that he had taught us. He was so very good himself, and of course he wants us to be, but I do think it's more difficult for us than grown-ups, don't you? And though we do remember sometimes, we generally forget."
"What did your father teach you?"
Aunt Isobel asked this as if she were thinking of something else while she spoke, and I hardly knew what to say.
"He taught us how to love God first, and put God first, and be faithful and true. He used to say,—
"'Never forget that your souls and bodies belong to the One Who died to save you—' And he told us: 'So many live on the enemy's side, and forget Whose they are, and Whom they ought to serve.'
"I wish I could remember it all better, but I mean to hold fast to it if I can."
"Life is hard on one's memories!" said Aunt Isobel.
I did not quite understand what she meant, but she looked so sad that I seized hold of her hand.
"Oh, Aunt Isobel, do let us love you! We will try not to vex you. And please tell us when you don't like what we're doing!"
She stooped and kissed me.
"Good little Grisel!" she said.
And then she walked away, and I did not like to follow her.
After a little, I went into the house.
And Lynette and Puff came in at tea-time, but the boys were very late. And when they did come, they told us that it was quite awful about Pat; for everybody now thought he was drowned. Lots of men had gone out in boats, and hunted up and down everywhere, but there was no sign of him. And his aunt was in an awful state, and the police, and fishermen, and coast-guardsmen were still out.
"He's gone, there's no doubt of it," said Denys gloomily; "a fellow would never let his boat drift in that fashion, if he could have helped it."
"How dreadful!" cried Lynette. "And while we were laughing and capering over the rocks this morning, he was round the corner shrieking for help, and battling with the waves, and sinking like a stone without a soul—not even a dog—to save him!"
The boys generally laugh when Lynette gets the "heroics" as we call it, but they didn't laugh this time, and I felt all the tears crowd into my eyes. I couldn't believe it. Pat seemed too much alive to be able to die so quickly!
"Does grandfather know?" I asked.
"Yes, we told him. He was walking up and down outside the house when we came back."
"And what did he say?"
"He fixed us with stony eyes," said Aylwin, "and then jerked out:
"'And if you had had your wish, you would have been all at the bottom of the sea with him.'
"So we begged to differ from him there. We said we would most likely have saved his life, for there was nothing wrong with his boat. And the old chap marched away muttering to himself. I expect he would have been jolly glad to get rid of the whole lot of us so cheap. You see, he wouldn't even have had the expense of our funerals!"
"Oh, don't, Aylwin!" I shuddered, for our father's funeral was still in my mind. It seemed so dreadful to talk of it so lightly.
We had a miserable evening; and we all went early to bed.
I couldn't get to sleep for a long while, and then at last I did. But in the middle of the night, or it seemed so to me, I heard a sharp knock at our door. I started up, and before I could have time to be frightened, I heard Denys's voice:
"Grizzy, are you awake?"
"Yes, what's the matter? Is Puff ill?"
"Puff! He's snoring like a grampus. Aylwin and I are going out, so you'll know where we are. There's a light out at sea, and I believe it's Pat."
"Oh, Denys, how can it be? Show it to me."
I was at the window in a moment, and I saw at once a waving, flaring light.
"It isn't a boat," said Denys, in a grave voice, "because the light isn't a lantern or anything of that sort; it's more like a bonfire, and it's on one of the islands!"
"Oh, Denys, of course! Why didn't we think of the islands!"
"We did. Davey and another man went off and landed late in the afternoon, but they could see no signs of him. I made certain he was on them, and told them so, for it seems the old cook had packed him a big basket of provisions, and it couldn't be found on his boat."
"Of course he must have landed them. Oh how lovely to think he may be alive! Denys, dear, do, do let me come with you; it would be such an adventure!"
"Stuff! Of course you can't come. Girls would only be in the way. We're going down to Davey's cottage."
"But it's in the middle of the night!"
"It's hardly eleven o'clock yet."
I gasped!
"Oh do, 'do' let me come."
Denys rushed away. I knew it was no good trying to follow him. It's always the way. Boys get all the fun, and girls have to stick in the corner, and do nothing.
But I was so excited that I woke Lynette up. She locks herself up, we always say with the key inside, when she goes to sleep, for we never can wake her for ages and ages. And she's dangerous to wake, for she hits out, and is awfully cross for a long time. She began now, when I shook her, to call out in her sleep.
"I tell you I didn't do it! Why, the sea is boiling! Let's put the kettle on! And Pat is inside; I told you he was!"
Lynette always talks most dreadful nonsense when she's half asleep. Then she said crossly:
"Leave me alone. I shan't get up. It's much too early."
And then she hit me, and sat up straight in bed, and blinked like an owl.
"What's the matter? Are you ill?"
We always think anybody's ill, if we wake in the middle of the night.
Then I told her, and she got quite as excited as I was. And we put on our dressing-gowns, and watched and watched at the window, till we were sick and tired of watching. And at last, the light went out. It was too far off to see if a boat was getting near it, but a thick mist came over the sea and blotted everything out, and then we began to feel anxious about the boys. But we knew Davey was a very good seaman—for he used to be in the Navy—and I felt sure he would take care of the boys.
And at last we both got so sleepy that we crept into bed again, only just before we did, we knelt down and asked God to make Pat alive and not dead, and to keep the boys safe. I thought we had better do that, as God was the only One Who could save if there was danger, and then we both fell asleep till broad daylight.
I have been writing this all in bits just as I have time. This morning, when we woke, the sun was streaming in at the window, as if it didn't care a bit about Pat and the boys. I rushed into the boys' room at once. I hoped to find them in bed, and ready to tell us about Pat, but their beds were empty, and Puff was still asleep.
When Peggy came to call us, we told her all about it, and asked her if Davey was missing too.
"Why no," she said, looking very anxious, "Davey is cutting the grass in the back yard, and he hasn't been out at night—that I know for a fact. Dearie me, what feckless wicked laddies! They have just gone out by themselves!"
This seemed dreadful news; and then we heard that grandfather's boat was missing. And when we were dressed, we ran downstairs and told Davey all about it. And he was very much put out, and quite positive that Pat was not on one of the islands.
"'Twas most likely the coastguards' lights ye saw," he said. "And now there be two more to be searched for, and the Kornel will be in a pretty stew!"
Lynette and I tore down to the beach. It was very low tide, and we ran along for a long way until we came opposite the islands. And the sun was so hot and shining, and the sea so smooth and blue, that we said to each other that we were quite certain that nothing dreadful had happened.
But we could see no signs of any boys or of the boat, and Davey came along dragging a big boat after him.
I pointed out to him just where we had seen the bonfire, but he didn't seem as if he believed us.
"I'll be just rowing across to see once agen if the laddie be there."
Then we besought him to take us with him. Lynette coaxed, and I entreated with all my soul, and at last he said we might come with him. We forgot all about our breakfast, and if it had not been for the thought of the boys, and wondering where they were, we should have enjoyed ourselves most awfully. Davey let us take one of the oars, and we pulled rather awkwardly at first, but much better farther on. And then we began shouting and cooee-ing as we got near to the island, and I shall never forget the relief it was when, in a little cove close to the island, we caught sight of grandfather's boat.
"There you see! The boys are here!" cried Lynette triumphantly.
"Yes they be," said Davey crossly, "and I'll gie them a bit o' my mind, to go carryin' off the Kornel's boat, and leading me such a dance for nothin'!"
"I wonder if they have found Pat," said Lynette.
I was afraid they had not, for there was no sign of them, and we thought they must be hunting for him on the other side. There was no beach where the boat was—Davey said it was high tide, and our hearts sank when we saw there was no possibility of landing. There was a straight high cliff right up above the boat, but it was tied to an iron staple in the cliff that must have been put there to be used. Then we called again and again, but the waves were making such a noise as they dashed against the rocks that it quite drowned our voices.
"Is there nowhere to land?" I asked Davey.
And he shook his head.
"We'll go round to the caves," he said.
And then we rowed round the island for a good way, and then suddenly, as we were calling, we heard an answering shout. For a moment we stared about, but could see nobody, and then I caught sight of Denys's head just peeping out of a hole in the cliff. He looked so funny that I could hardly help laughing. We rowed right up underneath him and Davey told us he was in the caves, which slope upwards—and the sea was washing in at the bottom of them.
"I've spent a night there," said Davey. "You're quite safe if you climb high enough."
"Are you all safe?" I cried out to Denys.
And Lynette cried: "Is Pat with you?"
Denys's head suddenly disappeared, and we waited breathlessly to see it again.