CHAPTER VI
The Sea-nymphs' Grotto
To make amends to Monica for having doubted her word, Lorraine took heron Saturday afternoon to see the Castletons. They found all the youngermembers of that interesting family amusing themselves in the garden,digging their war plots and sweeping up dead leaves. They werewarm-hearted, friendly children, and adopted Monica immediately. By theend of ten minutes she was seated on the dead leaves inside thewheel-barrow, nursing Perugia, with Madox squatting at her feet, Beataand Romola chattering one on each side, while Lilith and Constablebrought dilapidated toys for her inspection. As she seemed to beperfectly happy and to be thoroughly enjoying herself, Lorrainesuggested leaving her there for a while.
"I thought perhaps you'd like to come and walk with me?" she said toClaudia.
"I'd love it above everything. May Morland and Landry go too?"
"Why, of course, if they care to!"
"You won't mind Landry?" Claudia hesitated and blushed rosy pink. "Youknow he's not quite the same as other boys. You mustn't expect too muchfrom him. But he's very affectionate, and he likes to come with us."
"Oh, please bring him! I quite understand!"
Lorraine had indeed seen at once, without any explanation from Claudia,that poor Landry, in spite of his fourteen years, was more childish thanMadox. He was a fine well-grown boy, in features perhaps the mostbeautiful of all the handsome family, with china blue eyes and pale goldhair that curled from the roots, and a mouth that would have done creditto one of Botticelli's cherubs. In mind, however, Landry had neveradvanced beyond the age of seven. He was quiet and inoffensive, spokelittle, and seemed to live in a sort of dream world of his own. He wasdevoted to Claudia, and quite happy and contented if he might follow herabout and be near her. With the rest of the family, and especially withhis stepmother, he was sometimes fractious, but Claudia could alwaysmanage him and calm him down. Her invariable kindness to him was one ofthe nicest features in her character. He clung to her arm now as thefour young people set off across the moor.
"He's been having rather a blow-up with Violet," explained Claudia."It's your own fault this time, Landry, you know! Still, it's just aswell to take a walk and let the atmosphere clear before we come back.Violet easily fizzes over, but she doesn't keep it up long. Where shallwe go, Lorraine? You know the walks here better than we do."
"Suppose we go past Pettington Church and along the cliffs to TangyPoint?"
"Right you are! Anything you like will suit us," agreed Morland easily.
So they turned through the farmyard and down the steep lane that led tothe small church whose square grey tower and carved Norman doorwaylooked out across the green cliff-side to the sea.
"Father was sketching here yesterday," volunteered Claudia, pausing topeep in at the gateway.
"What was he painting?" asked Lorraine, stopping also to look andadmire, for the mellow October sunshine glinting on the grey walls andthe autumn-clad trees and the gleaming sea made a picture all in russetand pearl.
"It's one of a series of illustrations for Matthew Arnold's poem, 'TheForsaken Merman'. You know it, don't you? Well, this is 'the little greychurch on the windy hill', where Margaret came to say her prayers. Youremember she left her merman husband and her children in 'the cleargreen sea' because--
''T will be Easter time in the world--ah me! And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.'
She promised to come back to them all, but she never came, so they wentto look for her.
'From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers, But we stood without in the cold-blowing airs. We climbed on the graves, on the stones, worn with rains, And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: 'Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.'"
"That's the part Daddy's drawing--just where they're peeping in throughthe windows. He sketched Lilith this morning for the youngest mermaiden;he's given her a little fish's tail, and she looks such a darling! AndBeata and Romola are bigger ones, leaning on a gravestone with theirarms round each other's neck, and garlands of shells in their hair, andConstable is holding up a great trail of sea-weed. Father's going todraw me as Margaret for one illustration; I'm to be sitting at my wheel'in the humming town'. He's just bought a ducky little spinning-wheel onpurpose!"
"What fun to be put in a picture!"
"No, it isn't! We all think it a horrid nuisance to have to be Daddy'smodels and sit still for hours just when we want to do something else.But you'll like the merman picture, especially Lilith. She's reallysweet!"
"You've seen the mermaid carved on the chancel bench inside?" askedLorraine.
"No, I haven't. I've not been to the church on week-days."
"I go sometimes. Mr. Jacques lets me practise on the organ," saidMorland. "But I've never noticed any mermaid there."
"Oh, come in and look at her, then! She's worth seeing."
The church was open, so they stepped from the sunshine outside into thesoft diffused golden light glowing on sandstone pillars, oak-beamedroof, and saint-filled windows. It was newly decorated for harvestfestival--great clumps of Michaelmas daisies hid the font, scarletbryony berries trailed from the lectern, and chrysanthemums screened thepulpit. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers. Lorraine led theway to the chancel, and, moving aside some torch lilies, disclosed toview the end of a choir-bench, where, on the ancient black oak, wasroughly carved the figure of a mermaid, with comb and glass in hand.
"There's a story about her," said Lorraine. "There was a young fishermanwho sang in the choir. He had such a lovely voice that it was morebeautiful even than her own, and she fell in love with him. She used tocome on Sunday evenings and sit outside the church to listen to himsinging. Then, one day when he was out in his boat, she rose up from thewaves and beckoned to him. He rowed close to her, and she suddenlyclasped him in her arms and carried him down into the sea. He was neverseen again; and the villagers carved the picture of the mermaid in thechurch to remind people of what had happened."
"What a most amazing story! I must tell Daddy. Perhaps he'll like todraw that too," said Claudia. "By the by, where's Landry?" looking roundanxiously after her charge.
"He's all right," Morland assured her. "He's gone up those dusty stairsinto a little musty, cobwebby gallery. He always goes and sits therewhile I'm practising the organ. Can't think why he should like it; buthe doesn't do any harm, so I let him. Look! You can see him."
Morland pointed upwards, where, at the west end of the church, ran asmall gallery. Over its carved oak balustrade leaned Landry, like acherub on a Jacobean monument. The sunlight, glinting through the windowabove, turned his golden curls into a halo.
"He's waiting for me to play," continued Morland.
"Oh, do!" cried Lorraine.
The organ was unlocked, so Morland seated himself and began to improviseslow, dreamy, haunting music, that rose and fell through the littlechurch like the murmur of the sea. Whatever faults of character the boymight have, his face was rapt when he played, and to Lorraine it seemedas if the very saints and angels in the stained-glass windows werelooking and listening. Landry sat with parted lips and far-away blueeyes.
"He's always quiet when Morland is playing," whispered Claudia. "Heloves music. I wish we could teach him. I've tried, but it's absolutelyhopeless. He'd sit there all the afternoon, and I verily believe Morlandwould too, once he's started on that organ. We shall have to stop him ifwe want to go on with our walk. Morland! We're keeping Lorrainewaiting!"
Morland came back from the clouds and closed the organ, Claudia beckonedLandry down from the gallery, and they stepped out again into thesunshine and the fresh salt breeze that blew up from the shore.
It was a beautiful path to Tangy Point, all along the edge of thecliffs, with great rugged rocks below, and the sea lapping gently on theshingle. Gulls flashed white wings against the autumn blue of the sky,and linnets twittered among the gorse bushes; here and there a few
wildflowers lingered, and Claudia picked quite a summer-looking bouquet. ThePoint was a narrow spit of land crowned with a cairn, and here the youngpeople climbed to get the view over the western sea.
"I believe all here under the water is the lost land of Lyonesse!" saidLorraine. "In King Arthur's days it was a prosperous place withcornfields and villages, and then the sea came and swallowed it all up.Fishermen say there's a castle and a church under the waves still, andthat sometimes they can hear the bells ringing, but of course that'sjust imagination."
"Perhaps the mermaids live there!" laughed Claudia.
"You'd better send Lilith to look!"
"I say," said Morland, "there's a sort of a path down here. Are you gameto come and explore?"
"Of course we are! It will be topping down on those sands. Leave yourflowers here, Claudia; you can get them when we come back."
The path down to the sands was a scramble, but not particularlydifficult for agile young limbs. It led them on to a belt of rocks,where ghost-like little fishes were darting across silvery pools, andsmall crabs were scuttling among tangled masses of sodden, salt-scentedsea-weed, and sea-anemones spread scarlet tentacles in the clear water.The wall-like, reddish-brown cliff rose almost sheer above, with gullsand puffins and guillemots and cormorants perched on its rugged crags,or rising to circle screaming in the air.
"Looks like the entrance to a cave over there!" said Morland. "Bet yousix cigarettes to six chocolates I'm right!"
"You oughtn't to bet, you naughty boy!" returned Claudia. "Besides, wecan't get any chocolates nowadays. We'll go and see, though, if itreally is a cave. I love exploring."
To reach the place Morland had pointed out, they were obliged tostruggle through jungles of brown sea-weed, and to slip down littleprecipices slimy with green sea-grass, and to scramble over roughprojecting points of rock, honey-combed into queer shapes by the actionof the tide. A jump across a crevice and a climb up a few feet of sheerprecipice landed them at the entrance of the cave. Morland scrambled infront, and gave a hand to the others.
They found themselves in a large, rounded grotto, the walls of whichshelved gently in a series of natural ledges; the floor was dry, andcovered with fine silvery sand, and at the far end lay a pile of timber,washed in perhaps from some wreck by an abnormally high tide. Theafternoon sun shone through the entrance and gleamed on little bits ofmica and spar in the walls, making them glitter like diamonds.
"What an adorable place!" exclaimed Claudia with enthusiasm.
"Topping!" agreed Morland.
"A regular sea-nymphs' grotto!" exulted Lorraine, and Landry, who wasnot given to words, smiled, and pulling out a piece of timber sat downupon it.
"A good idea!" said Lorraine, following suit. "Look here, I've just hada brain wave. Let's appropriate the cave, and call it ours. Except justin the August holidays, I don't suppose anybody ever comes here, so weshould have it quite to ourselves. It shall be a real sea-nymphs'grotto. We'll get shells from the shore, and make lovely patterns withthem all along those ledges, and hang sea-weeds about, and make someseats with those pieces of wood, and we'll come out here on Saturdayssometimes, and bring our lunch. What votes?"
"A1! I'm your man, or rather your merman!" grinned Morland. "Any goodrecipe for growing a fish's tail, please? A diet of whelks and winklesnot welcome, for my digestion's delicate."
"It's a chubby idea!" beamed Claudia. "I'd love it, only I _do_ bargainwe keep it to ourselves. I don't want the whole tribe trailing after usevery time we come. The little ones mustn't know anything about it."
"_I_ shan't tell them, you bet!" declared Morland.
"It isn't a suitable place to bring children," agreed Lorraine. "Iwon't say anything to Monica, or even to Mervyn, because he'd be sure toblurt it out to her. It shall be just our own secret."
"I expect it has been a sort of secret place," said Morland. "Thoseledges look literally made for smugglers. No doubt they kept kegs ofbrandy there, and chests of tea, and bales of silk and lace in the goodold days."
"Why shouldn't we keep a few things here?" suggested Claudia. "A kettle,and a tin of cocoa and milk, and some matches, and a box of biscuits.Then we could light a fire and have a little feast any time when wecame."
"A ripping notion. I'll make a sort of cupboard with some of that woodto keep the things in. We'll bring cups and saucers as well as akettle."
"And a frying pan in case we catch flukes down in the pools," put inLorraine eagerly.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Morland, quite roused to enthusiasm."I'll come over on Monday and bring a saw with me, and a hammer andnails, and see what I can knock together in the shape of a cupboard andseats. Then next Saturday we'll tramp over and have our picnic."
"Splendiferous!"
"We'll have to come in the morning, because of the tide."
"Right you are! I guess we'd better be getting back now. I haven't grownmy merman's tail enough yet to swim with, and I've no wish to stop hereall night."
Morland kept his word, and went on Monday to the cave, armed withvarious useful tools. He could work well enough at anything that tookhis fancy, and, though he never knocked in a nail at home, he toiledhere in a way that would have amazed his family if they could have seenhim. Landry went also, and helped in a fashion. He could not do much,but he held pieces of wood steady while his brother hammered, and hecollected whole pocketfuls of shells from the beach.
Morland whistled cheerily as he worked. He wanted to give the girls asurprise, and, as they were busy at school all the week, he had thefield to himself until Saturday. His artistic temperament found scope inthe decoration of the cavern; fresh ideas kept occurring to him, and heenjoyed carrying them out. He felt like a kind of combination ofRobinson Crusoe and the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, with a spice ofpoetry running through it all.
Next Saturday Lorraine, having obtained permission from her mother to goto a picnic with the Castletons, started off, basket in hand, resistingthe agonized entreaties of Monica, who implored to be allowed toaccompany her.
"Sorry I can't take you to-day, Cuckoo! But you see they didn't askyou--only me. Beata and Romola aren't going either."
"But why shouldn't we _all_ go, and Madox too?" wailed Monica thespoilt.
"It's too far. Look here, I'll ask Mother to let you have some of theCastleton children to tea one day. Would that content you?"
"Ye--es!" conceded Monica doubtfully. "But it doesn't make up for thismorning. I think you're _ever_ so mean, Lorraine!"
"Poor old Cuckoo! But you know you couldn't really have come in anycase, for you're to be at the dentist's by eleven."
"Strafe the old dentist! I wish he were at the bottom of the sea!"declared the youngest of the Forrester family, with temper.
Lorraine ran away at last, and pelted up the hill to the Castletons'house, meeting Morland, Claudia, and Landry in the lane, whither theyhad fled to avoid a contingent of younger ones. They were laden with acargo of miscellaneous articles--a kettle, a pan, some plates, andvarious tins.
"It's like a young removal," said Claudia.
"Or emigrating to the wilds of Canada," laughed Lorraine. "I've broughtan enamelled mug, because it doesn't break like a teacup, and a littleold Britannia metal teapot that I prigged from the attic. It was onlygoing to be sent to a rummage sale, so we may just as well have it."
"Do mermaids drink tea, please?"
"No doubt they do when they can get it. Perhaps the smugglers taughtthem how."
Morland had intended to give the girls a surprise, and when theyentered the grotto their amazement quite came up to his expectations.The cave seemed truly transformed into a sea-nymphs' palace. Landry hadworked untiringly all the week picking up shells, and these werearranged in patterns, with long pieces of sea-weed draped artisticallyhere and there. Fragments of wreckage had been neatly sawn and nailedtogether to form a cupboard, a table, and some seats, and just insidethe entrance, in white pebbles, was the word "Welcome".
Landry, in his own way as plea
sed as his brother, stood beaming.Morland, though inwardly proud, affected nonchalance.
"Couldn't make it look much, of course," he apologized.
"Much? Why, it's topping!"
"It's like a fairy-tale! However did you find time to do all this?"
"Oh! I just worked a bit," murmured Morland modestly.
The first picnic in the grotto was a huge success. To be sure the tablewas unsteady, and had a decided lop to one end, and the benches feltslightly insecure, but the girls said that added an element ofadventure, for you never knew when you might be suddenly precipitated onto the floor. They put the cocoa, biscuits, and matches in tins, andstowed them away inside the new cupboard which Morland had placed in anangle of the rocky shelf, then, fearing that the rising tide would coverthe shore below and cut off their retreat, they bade a regretfulfarewell to all their arrangements, promising themselves the pleasure ofcoming often again.
It seemed too early to go straight home, so they spent the afternoonrambling about the cliffs, watching the sea-birds or the waves that weredashing below. Time flew apace, and when they came down the hill againfrom Tangy Point the sky was golden with sunset. The warm evening lightflooded the common, where brown bracken grew like a forest, andgoldfinches flitted about among a grove of thistles. Lorraine, who hadan eye for colour, picked a large wand-like sheaf of yellow ragwort,and, holding it over her shoulder, trudged through the thistles, sendingshowers of down to float in the breeze, and dispersing the goldfinchesfrom their feast. With her eyes on the horizon instead of on the groundin front, she nearly walked into an easel that was stationed among thebracken. Its owner sprang up to save it, and Lorraine, stopping just intime, paused with her russet dress and flying brown hair a dark massagainst the gold of the sky and the thistle-down background. There was asecond of silence as a pair of clear hazel eyes grasped the picturesqueimpression and registered it; then a mellow voice murmured: "Kilmeny!"
The Head Girl at the Gables Page 7
