Under the Lilacs Page 10

  CHAPTER X

  A HEAVY TROUBLE

  "Thank you, ma'am, that's a tip-top book, 'specially the pictures. ButI can't bear to see these poor fellows;" and Ben brooded over the fineetching of the dead and dying horses on a battle-field, one past allfurther pain, the other helpless, but lifting his head from his deadmaster to neigh a farewell to the comrades who go galloping away in acloud of dust.

  "They ought to stop for him, some of 'em," muttered Ben, hastily turningback to the cheerful picture of the three happy horses in the field,standing knee-deep among the grass as they prepare to drink at the widestream.

  "Ain't that black one a beauty? Seems as if I could see his mane blowin the wind, and hear him whinny to that small feller trotting down tosee if he can't get over and be sociable. How I'd like to take a rousin'run round that meadow on the whole lot of 'em!" and Ben swayed about inhis chair as if he was already doing it in imagination.

  "You may take a turn round my field on Lita any day. She would like it,and Thorny's saddle will be here next week," said Miss Celia, pleased tosee that the boy appreciated the fine pictures, and felt such heartysympathy with the noble animals whom she dearly loved herself.

  "Needn't wait for that. I'd rather ride bareback. Oh, I say, is thisthe book you told about, where the horses talked?" asked Ben, suddenlyrecollecting the speech he had puzzled over ever since he heard it.

  "No; I brought the book, but in the hurry of my tea-party forgot tounpack it. I'll hunt it up to-night. Remind me, Thorny."

  "There, now, I've forgotten something, too! Squire sent you a letter;and I'm having such a jolly time, I never thought of it."

  Ben rummaged out the note with remorseful haste, protesting that he wasin no hurry for Mr. Gulliver, and very glad to save him for another day.Leaving the young folks busy with their games, Miss Celia sat in theporch to read her letters, for there were two; and as she read her facegrew so sober, then so sad, that if any one had been looking he wouldhave wondered what bad news had chased away the sunshine so suddenly. Noone did look; no one saw how pitifully her eyes rested on Ben's happyface when the letters were put away, and no one minded the newgentleness in her manner as she came back, to the table. But Ben thoughtthere never was so sweet a lady as the one who leaned over him to showhim how the dissected map went together and never smiled at hismistakes.

  So kind, so very kind was she to them all, that when, after an hour ofmerry play, she took her brother in to bed, the three who remained fellto praising her enthusiastically as they put things to rights beforetaking leave.

  "She's like the good fairies in the books, and has all sorts of nice,pretty things in her house," said Betty, enjoying a last hug of thefascinating doll whose lids would shut so that it was a pleasure toSing, "Bye, sweet baby, bye," with no staring eyes to Spoil theillusion.

  "What heaps she knows! More than Teacher, I do believe; and she doesn'tmind how many questions we ask. I like folks that will tell me things,"added Bab, whose inquisitive mind was always hungry.

  "I like that boy first-rate, and I guess he likes me, though I didn'tknow where Nantucket ought to go. He wants me to teach him to ride whenhe's on his pins again, and Miss Celia says I may. She knows how to makefolks feel good, don't she?" and Ben gratefully surveyed the Arab chief,now his own, though the best of all the collection.

  "Won't we have splendid times? She Says we may come over every nightand play with her and Thorny."

  "And she's goin', to have the seats in the porch lift up, so we can putour things in there all day and have 'em handy."

  "And I'm going to be her boy, and stay here all the time. I guess theletter I brought was a recommend from the Squire."

  "Yes, Ben; and if I had not already made up my mind to keep you before,I certainly would now, my boy."

  Something in Miss Celia's voice, as she said the last two words with herhand on Ben's shoulder, made him look up quickly and turn red withpleasure, wondering what the Squire had written about him.

  "Mother must have some of the party; so you shall take her these, Bab,and Betty may carry Baby home for the night. She is so nicely asleep, itis a pity to wake her. Good by till to-morrow, little neighbors,"continued Miss Celia, and dismissed the girls with a kiss.

  "Is Ben coming, too?" asked Bab, as Betty trotted off in a silentrapture with the big darling bobbing over her shoulder.

  "Not yet; I've several things to settle with my new man. Tell mother hewill come by-and-by."

  Off rushed Bab with the plateful of goodies; and, drawing Ben downbeside her on the wide step, Miss Celia took out the letters, with ashadow creeping over her face as softly as the twilight was stealingover the world, while the dew fell, and every thing grew still and dim.

  "Ben, dear, I've something to tell you," she began, slowly; and the boywaited with a happy face, for no one had called him so since 'Meliadied.

  "The Squire has heard about your father, and this is the letter Mr.Smithers sends."

  "Hooray! where is he, please?" cried Ben, wishing she would hurry up;for Miss Celia did not even offer him the letter, but sat looking downat Sancho on the lower step, as if she wanted him to come and help her."He went after the mustangs, and sent some home, but could not comehimself."

  "Went further on, I s'pose. Yes, he said he might go as far asCalifornia, and if he did he'd send for me. I'd like to go there; it's areal splendid place, they say."

  "He has gone further away than that, to a lovelier country thanCalifornia, I hope." And Miss Celia's eyes turned to the deep sky, whereearly stars were shining.

  "Didn't he send for me? Where's he gone? When 's he coming back?" askedBen, quickly; for there was a quiver in her voice, the meaning of whichhe felt before he understood.

  Miss Celia put her arms about him, and answered very tenderly,--"Ben,dear, if I were to tell you that he was never coming back, could youbear it?"

  "I guess I could,--but you don't mean it? Oh, ma'am, he isn't dead?"cried Ben, with a cry that made her heart ache, and Sancho leap up witha bark.

  "My poor little boy, I wish I could say no."

  There was no need of any more words, no need of tears or kind armsaround him. He knew he was an orphan now, and turned instinctively tothe old friend who loved him best. Throwing himself down beside his dog,Ben clung about the curly neck, sobbing bitterly,--

  "Oh, Sanch, he's never coming back again; never, never any more!"

  Poor Sancho could only whine and lick away the tears that wet thehalf-hidden face, questioning the new friend meantime with eyes so fullof dumb love and sympathy and sorrow that they seemed almost human.Wiping away her own tears, Miss Celia stooped to pat the white head, andto stroke the black one lying so near it that the dog's breast was theboy's pillow. Presently the sobbing ceased, and Ben whispered, withoutlooking up,--

  "Tell me all about it; I'll be good."

  Then, as kindly as she could, Miss Celia read the brief letter whichtold the hard news bluntly; for Mr. Smithers was obliged to confess thathe had known the truth months before, and never told the boy, lest heshould be unfitted for the work they gave him. Of Ben Brown the elder'sdeath there was little to tell, except that he was killed in some wildplace at the West, and a stranger wrote the fact to the only personwhose name was found in Ben's pocket-book. Mr. Smithers offered to takethe boy back and "do well by him," averring that the father wished hisson to remain where he left him, and follow the profession to which hewas trained.

  "Will you go, Ben?" asked Miss Celia, hoping to distract his mind fromhis grief by speaking of other things.

  "No, no; I'd rather tramp and starve. He's awful hard to me and Sanch;and he'd be worse, now father's gone. Don't send me back! Let me stayhere; folks are good to me; there's nowhere else to go." And the headBen had lifted up with a desperate sort of look, went down again onSancho's breast as if there were no other refuge left.

  "You shall stay here, and no one shall take you away against your will.I called you 'my boy' in play, now you shall be my boy in earnest;
thisshall be your home, and Thorny your brother. We are orphans, too; and wewill stand by one another till a stronger friend comes to help us," saidMiss Celia, with such a mixture of resolution and tenderness in hervoice, that Ben felt comforted at once, and thanked her by laying hischeek against the pretty slipper that rested on the step beside him, asif he had no words in which to swear loyalty to the gentle mistress whomhe meant henceforth to serve with grateful fidelity.

  Sancho felt that he must follow suit; and gravely put his paw upon herknee, with a low whine, as if he said, "Count me in, and let me help topay my master's debt if I can."

  Miss Celia shook the offered paw cordially, and the good creaturecrouched at her feet like a small lion, bound to guard her and her housefor evermore.

  "Don't lie on that cold stone, Ben; come here and let me try to comfortyou," she said, stooping to wipe away the great drops that kept rollingdown the brown cheek half hidden in her dress. But Ben put his arm overhis face, and sobbed out with a fresh burst of grief,--

  "You can't, you didn't know him! Oh, daddy! daddy! if I'd only seen youjest once more!"

  No one could grant that wish; but Miss Celia did comfort him, forpresently the sound of music floated out from the parlor,--music sosoft, so sweet, that involuntarily the boy stopped his crying to listen;then quieter tears dropped slowly, seeming to soothe his pain as theyfell, while the sense of loneliness passed away, and it grew possible towait till it was time to go to father in that far-off country lovelierthan golden California.

  How long she played Miss Celia never minded; but, when she stole out tosee if Ben had gone, she found that other friends, even kinder thanherself, had taken the boy into their gentle keeping. The wind had sunga lullaby among the rustling lilacs, the moon's mild face looked throughthe leafy arch to kiss the heavy eyelids, and faithful Sancho still keptguard beside his little master, who, with his head pillowed on his arm,lay fast asleep, dreaming, happily, that Daddy had come home again.