Seven Little Australians

by Ethel Sybil Turner

  CHAPTER XIII

  Uninvited Guests

  The captain was walking slowly across the paddocks with the cabbage-treehat he kept for the garden pushed back from his brow. He was ratherheated after his tussle with his second son, and there was a thoughtfullight in his eyes. He did not believe the truth of Bunty's finalremark, but still he considered there was sufficient probability in itto make a visit to the shed not altogether superfluous.

  Not that he expected, in any case, to find his errant daughter there,for had not Bunty said there was a picnic down at the river? But hethought, there might be some trace or other.

  The door of the shed swung back on its crazy hinges, and the sunlightstreamed in and made a bar of glorified dust across the place.

  There was no sign of habitation here, unless a hair ribbon of Meg'sand some orange peel, might be considered as such.

  He saw the shaky, home-made ladder, resting against the hole in theceiling, and though he had generally more respect for his neck thanhis children had for theirs, he ventured his safety upon it. Itcreaked ominously as he reached the top step and crawledthrough into the loft.

  There were a ham-bone, a box of dominoes, and a burst pillow thisside of the partition, nothing else, so he walked across andlooked over.

  "Very cosy," he murmured, "I shouldn't mind camping here myselffor a little time," and it even came into his head to do so, and bethere as a "surprise party" when Judy returned. But he dismissed theidea as hardly compatible with dignity. He remembered hearingrumours of missing furniture in the house, and almost a smile cameinto his eyes as he saw the little old table with the spirit-lamp andteapot thereon, the bed-clothing and washing-basin. But a sternlook succeeded it. Were seventy-seven miles not sufficient obstacleto Judy's mischievous plans? How did she dare thus to defy him, achild of thirteen: and he her father? His lips compressedominously, and he went down again and strode heavily back to thehouse.

  "Esther!" he called, in a vibrating voice at the foot of thestairs.

  And "Coming, dear--half a minute," floated down in response.

  Half a minute passed ten times, and then she came, the beautiful youngmother with her laughing-faced wee son in her arms. Her eyes lookedso tender; and soft, and loving that he turned away impatiently; heknew quite well how it would be; she would beg and entreat him toforgive his little daughter when she heard, and when she looked asbright and beautiful as she did just now he could refuse her nothing.

  He stood in profound meditation for a minute or two.

  "What is it you want, John?" she said. "Oh! and what do you think?I have just found another tooth, a double one--come and look."

  He came, half unwillingly, and stuck his little finger into his infantson's mouth.

  Esther guided it till it felt a tiny, hard substance. "The third,"she said proudly; "aren't you pleased?"

  "Hum!" he said. Then he meditated a little longer, and after aminute or two rubbed his hands as if he was quite pleased withhimself.

  "Put on your hat, Esther, and the General's," he said, patting thatyoung gentleman's head affectionately. "Let us go down to the riverfor a stroll; the children are down there picnicking, so we can besure of some tea."

  "Why, yes, that will be very nice," she said, "won't it Bababsie,won't it, sweet son?"

  She called to Martha, who was dusting the drawing-room in a cheerfullyblind way peculiarly hers.

  "The General's hat, please, Martha, the white sun-hat with strings;it's on my bed, I think, or a chair or somewhere--oh! and bringdown my large one with the poppies in, as well, please."

  Martha departed, and, after a little search, returned with theheadgear.

  And Esther tied the white sun-hat over her own curly, crinkly hair,and made the General crow with laughing from his seat on the halltable. And then she popped it on the Captain's head, and put thecabbage-tree on her son's, and occupied several minutes thus in prettyplay.

  Finally they were ready, and moved down the hall.

  "Master Bunty is locked in his room; on no account open the door,Martha," was the Captain's last command.

  "Oh, Jack!" Esther said reproachfully.

  "Oblige me by not interfering," he said; "allow me a littleliberty with my own children, Esther. He is an untruthful littlevagabond; I am ashamed to own him for my son."

  And Esther, reflecting on the many shiftinesses of her stepson, wasable to console herself with the hope that it would do him good.

  They went a shortcut through the bush to avoid the public road, andthe blue, sun-kissed, laughing river stretched before them.

  "There they are," Esther cried, "in the old place, as usual, lookat the fire, little sweet son; see the smoke, boy bonny--four--fiveof them. Why, who have they got with them?" she said in surprise,as they drew nearer the group on the grass.

  Before they were close enough to recognize faces the circle suddenlyseemed to break up and fall apart.

  One of its members turned sharply round and fled away across thegrass, plunging into the thick bracken and bush, and disappearing fromsight in less time than it takes to tell.

  "Whoever had you with you?" Esther said when they reached thechildren.

  There was a half-second's silence, then Pip threw some sticks on thefire and said coolly:

  "Only a friend of Meg's, a frightened kind of kid who has quite adread of the pater. I believe she imagines soldiers go round withtheir swords sharpened, ready for use."

  He laughed lightly. Nell joined in in a little hysterical way, andBaby began to cry.

  Meg, white as death, picked her up and hurriedly began telling herthe story of the three bears for comfort.

  Esther looked a little puzzled, but, of course, never dreamt ofconnecting the flying figure with Judy.

  And the Captain seemed delightfully blind and unsuspicious. Helay down on the grass and let the General swarm all over him; hemade jokes with Esther; he told several stories of his young days,and never even seemed to remark that his audience seemed inattentiveand constrained.

  "Haven't you made some tea?" Esther said at last. "We lovebilly tea, and thought you would be sure to have some?"

  "Bunty hasn't come, he was to have brought the billy," Pip said,half sulkily. He had suspicions that there was something behind thisgreat affability of his father, and he objected to being playedwith.

  "Ah," the Captain said gravely, "that is unfortunate. When I cameaway Bunty did not seem very well, and was thinking of spendingthe rest of the day in his bedroom."

  Pip made up the fire in a dogged way, and Meg flashed a frightenedglance at her father, who smiled affectionately back at her.

  After an hour of this strained intercourse the Captain proposed areturn home.

  "It is growing chill," he said. "I should be grieved for theGeneral's new-born tooth to start its life by aching--let's go homeand make shift with teapot tea."

  So they gathered up the untouched baskets and made themselves into aprocession.

  The Captain insisted on Pip and Meg walking with him, and he sentBaby and Nell on in front, one on either side of Esther, who wasalternately leading and carrying the General.

  This arrangement being, as indeed Pip shrewdly suspected; to preventthe possibility of any intercourse or formation of new plans.

  And when they got home he invited them all to come into hissmoking-room, a little slit of a place off the dining-room.

  Esther took the General upstairs, but the others followed him insilence.

  "Sit down, Pip, my boy," he said genially. "Come, Meg, make yourselfat home, take a seat in that armchair. Nell and Baby can occupythe lounge."

  They all sat down helplessly where he told them, and watched hisface anxiously.

  He selected a pipe from the row over the mantelpiece, fitted a newmouthpiece to it, and carefully filled it.

  "As you are all in possession of my room," he said in an urbane voice,"I can hardly smoke with any comfort here, I am afraid. I will comeand talk to you again later on. I am g
oing to have a pipe first inthe old loft in the cow paddock. Keep out of mischief till I come back."

  He struck a match, lighted his tobacco, and, without a glance at thesilent children, left the room, locking the door behind him.

  Once more he crossed the paddocks, and once more pushed open thecreaking door. The orange peel lay just where he had seen it before,only it was a little drier and more dead-looking. The hair ribbonwas in exactly the same knot. The ladder creaked in just the sameplace, and again threatened to break his neck when he reached the top.The dominoes were there still, the ham-bone and the pillow occupiedthe same places; the only difference being the former had a blackcovering of ants now, and a wind had been playing with the pillow,and had carried the feathers in all directions.

  He crossed the floor, not softly, but just with his usual measuredmilitary-step. Nothing moved. He reached the partition and lookedover.

  Judy lay across the improvised bed, sleeping a sleep of utterexhaustion after her rapid flight from the river. She had a frock ofMeg's on, that made her look surprisingly long and thin; he wasastonished to think she had grown so much.

  "There will be no end to my trouble with her as she grows older," hesaid, half aloud, feeling extremely sorry for himself for being herfather. Then a great anger and irritation rose within him as hewatched her sleeping so quietly there. Was she always to be a disturberof his peace? Was she always to thwart him like this?

  "Judy," he said in a loud voice.

  The closed eyelids sprang open, the mist of sleep and forgetfulnesscleared from the dark eyes, and she sprang up, a look of absolutehorror on her face.

  "What are you doing here, may I ask?" he said, very coldly.

  The scarlet colour flooded her cheeks, her very brow, and thendropped down again, leaving her white to the lips, but she made noanswer.

  "You have run away from school, I suppose?" he continued, in thesame unemotional voice. "Have you anything to say?"

  Judy did not speak or move, she only watched his face with partedlips.

  "Have you anything to say for yourself, Helen?" he repeated.

  "No, Father," she said.

  Her face had a worn, strained look that might have touched himat another time, but he was too angry to notice.

  "No excuse or reason at all?"

  "No, Father."

  He moved toward the opening. "A train goes in an hour and a half, youwill come straight back with me this moment," he said, in an evenvoice. "I shall take precautions to have you watched at school sinceyou cannot be trusted. You will not return home for the Christmasholidays, and probably not for those of the following June."

  It was as bad as a sentence of death. The room swam before the girl'seyes, there was a singing and rushing in her ears.

  "Come at once," the Captain said. Judy gave a little caught breath;it tickled her throat and she began to cough.

  Such terrible coughing, a paroxysm that shook her thin frame and madeher gasp for breath. It lasted two or three minutes, though she puther handkerchief to her mouth to try to stop it.

  She was very pale when it ceased, and he noticed the hollows in hercheeks for the first time.

  "You had better come to the house first," he said, less harshly, "andsee if Esther has any cough stuff."

  Then in his turn he caught his breath and grew pale under his bronze.

  For the handkerchief that the child had taken from her lips hadscarlet, horrible spots staining its whiteness.