CHAPTER IV
AT MR. LYON'S
Anna raced back along the path to the bluff as fast as she could go; butthe strong wind swept against her, and at times nearly blew her over.The rain came down in torrents; and, as it had grown dark with theapproaching storm, she could no longer see her way clearly, and stubbedher toes against roots and stones until her feet were hurt and bleeding.
But she could not stop to think of this: she could think only ofMelvina, cowering, wet and afraid, under the juniper bushes.
"Perhaps she will be blown down the slope into the river," thought Anna,"and it will be my fault. Perhaps I have killed Melvina, by trying tomake myself out as cleverer than she. Oh! If she is only safe I'll nevertry to be clever again," she vowed, as she fought her way on againstwind and rain.
As she reached the top of the bluff there was a moment's lull in thestorm, and Anna could clearly see the wide branched juniper bushes whereshe had left Melvina.
"Melly! Melly!" she called, scrambling down the slope. But there was noanswer; and in a moment Anna realized that Melvina was not under thetrees.
The storm began again with even greater violence, and Anna was obligedto cling closely to the rough branches to keep from being swept down theslope. She could hear the dash of the waves on the shore, and shetrembled at the thought that Melvina might have been swept down into theangry waters.
After a little Anna, on her hands and knees, crawled up the slope,clinging to bits of grass here and there, and not venturing to standupright until she had reached the top.
She knew what she must do now, and she did not hesitate. She must gostraight to Mr. Lyon's house and tell him the story from the moment thatshe had told Melvina that pine trees were alders. For a moment shewondered what would become of her afterward; but only for a moment didshe think of herself.
It seemed to the little girl that she would never reach the minister'shouse. For a moment she rested in the shelter of the church, and thendragged herself on. Her feet hurt so badly now that it was all she coulddo to walk.
There were lights to be seen, up-stairs and down, at the parsonage; butAnna did not wonder at this. She managed to reach the front door and tolift the knocker.
In a moment London opened the door, holding a candle above his head.
"Well, boy, who be ye?" he questioned sharply, seeing only Anna's curlybrown head.
"If you please, I am Anna Weston," faltered the little girl. "I--I--mustsee the minister. It's about Melvina."
A smile showed on the black face, and London nodded his head.
"Missy Melvina am safe in bed," he whispered, then in a louder tone,"Step in, if ye please, Missy Anna."
Anna dragged herself up the high step, and Mr. Lyon just then opened adoor leading into his study.
"What is it, London?" he questioned, and seeing Anna, lifted his handsin amazement.
Anna stumbled toward him.
"I am to blame about Melvina!" she exclaimed, and, speaking as quicklyas she could, she told the whole story. She told it exactly as it hadhappened, excepting Luretta's part of the mischief, and Melvina'swillingness to wade in the creeping tide.
Mr. Lyon had taken her by the hand and led her into the candle-lit room.A little fire blazed on the brick hearth, and as Anna came near it alittle mist of steam rose from her wet clothes.
The minister listened, keeping Anna's cold little hand fast in hisfriendly clasp. His face was very grave, and when she finished with: "IsMelvina safe? London said she was. But, oh, Mr. Lyon, all her fineclothes are swept away, and it is my fault," he smiled down at hertroubled face.
"Be in no further alarm, my child. But come with me, for your feet arecut and bruised, and Mrs. Lyon will give you dry clothing. Melvina doesnot blame you in her story of this mischievous prank. But I doubt notyou are both blameworthy. But 'twill be your parents' duty to see to thypunishment." As the minister spoke he drew her toward a door at the farend of the room and opened it, calling for Mrs. Lyon, who rose from herseat near a low table in front of the big kitchen fireplace.
All Anna's courage had vanished. She hung her head, not daring to lookat Mrs. Lyon, saying:
"I must go home. I must not stay."
"London is at your father's house ere this, and will tell him that youare to spend the night here. They will not be anxious about you," saidMrs. Lyon; "and now slip out of those wet garments. I have warm water tobathe your feet," and almost before Anna realized what was happening shefound herself in a warm flannel wrapper, her bruised feet bathed andwrapped in comforting bandages, and a bowl of hot milk and corn bread onthe little table beside her. When this was finished Mrs. Lyon led thelittle girl to a tiny chamber at the head of the stairs. A big bedsteadseemed nearly to fill the room.
"Say your prayers, Anna," said Mrs. Lyon, and without another word sheleft the little girl alone. Anna was so thoroughly tired out that eventhe strange dark room did not prevent her from going to sleep, and whenshe awoke the tiny room was full of sunshine; she could hear robinssinging in the maples near the house, and people moving aboutdown-stairs. Then she sat up in bed with a little shiver ofapprehension.
What would the minister and Mrs. Lyon and Melvina say to her? Perhapsnone of them would even speak to her. She had never been so unhappy inher life as she was at that moment. She slipped out of bed; but themoment her feet touched the floor she cried out with pain. For they werebruised and sore.
There was a quick rap at the door, and Mrs. Lyon entered. "Good-morning,Anna. Here are your clothes. I have pressed them. And I suppose theseare your shoes and stockings!" and she set down the stout shoes and theknit stockings that Anna had supposed had been swept out to sea.
"When you are dressed come to the kitchen and your breakfast will beready," said Mrs. Lyon, and left the room before Anna had courage tospeak. Anna dressed quickly; but in spite of her endeavors she could notget on her shoes. Her feet hurt her too badly to take off the bandages;she drew her stockings on with some difficulty, and shoes in hand wentslowly down the steep stairs.
When she was nearly down she heard Mrs. Lyon's voice: "She is amischievous child, and her parents encourage her. She looks like a boy,and I do not want Melvina to have aught to do with her."
Anna drew a quick breath. She would not go into the kitchen and facepeople who thought so unkindly of her. "I will go home," she thought,ready to cry with the pain from her feet, and her unhappy thoughts. Thefront door was wide open. There was no trace of the storm of theprevious night, and Anna made her way softly across the entry and downthe steps. Every step hurt, but she hurried along and had reached thechurch when she gave a little cry of delight, for her father was comingup the path.
"Well, here's my Danna safe and sound," he exclaimed, picking her up inhis arms. "And what has happened to her little feet?" he asked, as hecarried her on toward home.
And then Anna told all her sad story again, even to the words she hadoverheard Mrs. Lyon say.
"Don't worry, Danna! I'd rather have my Dan than a dozen of theirMelvinas," said Mr. Weston quickly.
When London had come the previous night with the brief message from theminister that Anna was safe at his house and would stay the night there,the Westons had been vexed and troubled, and Mrs. Weston had declaredthat Anna should be punished for running off in such a tempest to theminister's house. But as Mr. Weston listened to his little daughter'sstory, and looked at her troubled and tear-stained face, he decided thatAnna had had a lesson that she would remember, and needed comfortingmore than punishment; and a few whispered words to Mrs. Weston, as heset Anna down in the big wooden rocker, made Anna's mother put her armstenderly about her little daughter and say kindly:
"Mother's glad enough to have her Danna home again. And now let's lookat those feet."
Rebby came running with a bowl of hot porridge, and the little girl wasmade as comfortable as possible. But all that morning she sat in the bigchair with her feet on a cushion in a smaller chair, and
she told hermother and Rebby all the story of her adventures; and when Rebby laughedat Melvina's not knowing an alder from a pine Danna smiled a little. ButMrs. Weston was very sober, although she said no word of blame. IfMelvina Lyon's things had been lost it would be but right that Anna'sparents should replace them to the best of their ability, and this wouldbe a serious expense for the little household.
After dinner Rebby went to the Fosters', and came home with the story ofMelvina's return home. It seemed that the moment Anna left her shebecame frightened and had followed her up the slope; and then, while Mr.Lyon and London were searching for her, she had made her way home, toldher story, and had been put to bed. Luretta had carried Melvina's thingsand Anna's shoes and stockings well up the shore, and had put them underthe curving roots of the oak tree; so, although they were well soaked,they were not blown away, and early that morning Luretta had hastened tocarry the things to the parsonage.
"You were brave, Dan, to go through all that storm last night to tellthe minister," said Rebby, as she drew a footstool near her sister'schair and sat down. Rebby was not so troubled to-day; for her father hadpostponed his trip to the forest after the liberty tree, and Rebby hopedthat perhaps it would not be necessary that one should be set up inMachias. So she was ready to keep her little sister company, and try tomake her forget the troubles of her adventures.
"Of course I had to go, Rebby," Anna responded seriously, "but none ofit, not even my feet, hurt so bad as what Mrs. Lyon said about me. For Ido not think I am what she said," and Anna began to cry.
"Father says you are the bravest child in the settlement; and Mother isproud that you went straight there and took all the blame. And I am surethat no other girl is so dear as my Danna," declared Rebby loyally."After all, what harm did you do?"
But Anna was not so easily comforted. "I tried to make fun of Melly fornot knowing anything. I tried to show off," she said, "and now probablyshe will never want to see me again; and oh, Rebby! the worst of it allis that Melvina is just as brave as she can be, and I like her!" AndAnna's brown eyes brightened at the remembrance of Melvina's enjoymentof their sport together.
"Don't you worry, Danna; Father will make it all right," Rebecca assuredher; for Rebecca thought that her father could smooth out all thedifficult places.
Anna did not speak of the excursion to the forest; she did not eventhink of it until that evening, when her father came home with a roll offine birch-bark, soft and smooth as paper, on whose smooth surface sheand Rebecca with bits of charcoal could trace crude pictures of treesand Indians, of birds and mice, and sometimes write letters to LuciaHorton or Luretta Foster.
"You must take good care of your feet, Dan, for I must start after theliberty tree in a few days," said Mr. Weston, "and I want your company."
Anna's face brightened, but Rebecca looked troubled.
"Why must we have a liberty pole, Father?" she asked fretfully.
"We have good reasons, daughter. And to-day tidings have come that thebrave men of Lexington and Concord, in Massachusetts, drove the Britishback to Boston on the nineteenth of April. 'Tis great news for all thecolonies. I wish some British craft would give Machias men a chance toshow their mettle," said Mr. Weston, his face flushing at the thought ofthe patriotic action of the men of Massachusetts.
Rebecca sighed. She, too, wished that her home town might do its partto win a victory for America; but, remembering what Lucia Horton hadtold her, the very mention of a liberty pole made her tremble.
When Anna hobbled up-stairs that night she was in a much happier frameof mind.
"My father is the best father in all the world, and my mother is thebest mother, and my sister is the best sister," she announced to thelittle group as she said good-night. But the shadow of Mrs. Lyon'sdisapproval was not forgotten; Anna wondered to herself if there was notsome way by which she could win the approval of Mr. and Mrs. Lyon, andso be allowed to become Melvina's friend.
"Mrs. Lyon doesn't like me because my hair is short, for one reason,"thought Anna. "I'll let it grow; but 'twill take years and years," andwith this discouraging thought her eyes closed, and she forgot hertroubles in sleep.
A Little Maid of Old Maine Page 5
