'Me and Nobbles'

by Amy Le Feuvre

  Chapter I.

  'MASTER MORTIMER.'

  He was known by the name of 'the Child' by his relations, but his nursecalled him Master Bobby. He would say if he were asked himself:

  'My name is Robert Stuart Allonby.' And he would raise a pair ofwonderful brown eyes as he spoke, in anxious doubt as to whether hisname would be liked.

  Bobby showed a good deal of anxiety about different things. Hisfavourite sentence was always, 'I wonder, Nurse ----' and very often,noting the impatient frown on his nurse's face, he would stop there,and turn away to his favourite corner in the window-seat, which heshared with 'Nobbles,' the comfort of his life.

  Bobby was a very small boy, but a big thinker, and he would have likedto be a big talker, but grown-up people were not interested in what hehad to say. So he talked in a rapid undertone to 'Nobbles,' who alwaysunderstood, and who smiled perpetually into the earnest little face ofhis master. 'Nobbles' had been given to him a very long time ago by asailor-brother of Nurse's, who came to tea at certain periods, and whorelated the most wonderful stories of foreign parts. Jane, thehousemaid, always took tea in the nursery upon these occasions, and sheand Bobby listened with awed admiration to the handsome traveller.'Nobbles' was only a walking-stick, with a wonderful little ivory head.It was the head of a goblin, Nurse declared, but Bobby loved it.Nobbles had very round eyes and a smiling mouth, two very big ears, anda little red cap on his head. Bobby took him to bed with him everynight; he went out walks with him; he always had him with him in hiswindow corner; and it was Nobbles who was treated to all the delicioussecrets and plans which only a very lonely little boy could haveconcocted.

  Bobby's nursery was at the top of the house; he reached it by the backstairs, and had to open a wooden gate at the top of them before hecould get to it. There were two rooms, one leading out of the other,and both looked out at the back of the house. Bobby spent hours by thewindow, and he knew every inch of the landscape outside.

  First there was a paved yard with a high wall on one side, with a greendoor in it, through which you passed into a walled kitchen garden.This door was kept locked in fruit time; the gardener, old Tom, keptone key, and Bobby's grandmother the other.

  Old Tom was generally working in the kitchen garden, and Bobby watchedhim from his window with keen interested eyes. Beyond this garden wasan orchard which ran down to the high-road. Bobby could not see thisroad from his window, for a tall row of elms hid it from his view. Inthe summer, when the windows were open, he could hear the hoot of themotors as they tore along it. But he could see for miles beyond thisroad. There was a stretch of green fields, two farms, and a range ofdistant hills, behind which the sun always set. And when he got tiredof looking at all this, there was the sky; and the sky to him was anever-ending joy. The clouds chasing each other across its infiniteblue, presented the most entrancing pictures to him. Monsters pursuingtheir prey, ogres changing their shape as they flew, castles dissolvinginto ocean waves, mermaids, angels, hunters, wolves, chariots andhorses. These, and hosts besides, all passed before him.

  When it was dark in winter-time he would clamber down from hiswindow-seat and content himself with his toys. The nursery was veryplainly furnished. It had a square table in the middle of the room;there was one cupboard for Bobby's toys, another for the nurserycrockery; a wooden rocking-chair, a low oak bench, and two rush chairs.The floor was covered with red cocoanut matting. The fire was guardedby a high wire screen, and above the mantelpiece hung a colouredillustration of the battle of Waterloo. Bobby knew every man and horsein it by name. He had his own stories for every one of them, and wasfound more than once dissolved in tears after looking at it.

  'That captain under his horse is so dreadfully hurt, his bones isbroken, and he was going home to his little boy!' he would saypitifully, when Nurse would enquire the cause of his grief.

  Nurse was a tall thin woman with a severe voice and a soft heart. Butthough she adored her little charge she never let him know it, and theonly time she kissed him was when she tucked him up in his small bed atnight. Bobby was quite aware that the grown-up people in the house didnot care for him. This did not trouble him; he took it for grantedthat all grown-up people were the same. With one exception, however.In the depths of his heart he felt that his unknown father loved him.One night after saying his prayers, and repeating the Lord's Prayersentence by sentence after his nurse, he said:

  'Who's "Our Father?" Is it mine own, who's far away?'

  'Dear, no!' said the nurse, in a shocked tone. ''Tis God Almighty, upin heaven.'

  'Then I shan't call him "Father," 'cause He isn't.'

  'For shame, you wicked boy! God is everybody's Father, He loves you,and gives you everything you want.'

  'Does fathers always do that?'

  'Of course they do. Fathers always love their children, and work forthem, and care for them. And the great God is called Father because Heloves you.'

  Bobby thought over this. And he hugged the thought to his heart thathe had two fathers, both far away, but both loving him. He knew thatGod was the nearest to him; he was told that He watched over him nightand day, and could always hear him when he spoke to Him. But his heartwent out to his earthly father in an unknown country. And he used tobe constantly picturing his return.

  On the whole, though he had very big thoughts, and fits of dreaming,Bobby was a happy, merry little soul. Sometimes he strayed along thebig passage and peeped through the green baize door which led down thefront stairs. He had a way of asking Jane what 'the House' was doing,'the House' being his grandmother, and uncle and aunt, and theirvisitors. Occasionally he would make breathless little excursions ofhis own into the rooms which seemed so strange and wonderful to him.This was generally in the very early morning, or in the afternoon, wheneveryone was out of doors. Nurse would soon pursue him and bring himback to his proper sphere; but he would have a delightful time whilstthe chase lasted, and the very difficulties that beset hisinvestigations made them the more exciting.

  One bright spring afternoon he was turned into the kitchen garden toplay. Nurse had placed him under the charge of old Tom, for she wasbusy with her machine, making some holland overalls for him, and shewas glad to have the nursery to herself. Bobby was in the seventhheaven of delight. There was nothing he enjoyed so much as a talk withTom.

  'And what's the first thing nice to eat that's coming out of theground?' he asked, his hands in his pockets and his legs well astride,as he watched Tom sowing some seed in long drills across the square offreshly dug ground.

  Tom looked at him with a twinkle in his eye.

  'Spring cabbages,' he said.

  'But I mean fruit, not nasty vegtubbers! I sawed you taste a big whiteball, and then you frew it over the wall.'

  ''Twas a turnip, likely.'

  'Let me taste a turnip.'

  But Tom shook his head.

  'Shall have your nurse at me a-sayin' I'm a-upsettin' your littleinside. Do you know who's a-comin' to-day?'

  'No. Do tell me. Someone to the house?'

  'It be Master Mortimer, the eldest son, who have been in furrin partsso long, him what hangs up in the hall along with the master. You'venever seed him. He went off straight from school to India. He were afavourit' of mine were Master Mortimer.'

  'And he's coming to-day? Oh, I do hope I shall see him.'

  Bobby capered at the thought.

  ''Tis any time to-day may bring him. His ship comed in yester morn.'

  'I wonder if he's seen my father anywheres.'

  'Ah! Best ask of him. Master Mortimer be a merry young gen'leman,sure enough. But I reckon that time have sobered him!'

  'Grown-up peoples aren't merry,' said the small boy, ''cept Sam Conway,when he's drunk!'

  Sam Conway was the cobbler, who was the village drunkard. Tom shookhis head reproachfully at the thought of him.

  'And that there old soaker did marry my aunt's darter!' He continued agrumbling discourse upon the evils of d
rink as he turned to his sowing,and Bobby danced away down to the bottom of the garden, where he openedthe door into the orchard and found his way to his favourite corner.This was an old apple-tree which grew close to the high wall thatseparated the orchard from the public road. It was an easy tree toclimb, and from a comfortable perch upon the topmost bough he couldlook out along the high-road. It was a broad, white, dusty road; onmarket-days he was never absent from this seat; he loved watching thefarmers' carts, and the carriers, and the droves of sheep and cattlethat passed along to the town. There were other days when he watchedthere, days when only motors whizzed by, or a few carriages and anoccasional cart rumbled along. But he never tired of his post, and hisface was always full of patient expectancy. He got up in the tree now,and 'Nobbles' was tightly grasped in his hand.

  'It may be "Nobbles" that they'll come together. It's a ship he'llcome in same as Master Mortimer, and the ship comed in yesterday--Tomsaid so.'

  His brown eyes scanned the horizon anxiously, and the hope that hadnever died yet in his childish heart leaped up anew. Nobbles was stuckinto a crevice in the wall, and his smiling, ugly little head staredout in the same direction as his master's.

  'It may be a station fly, and it may be our carriage, and it may be amotor,' pursued Bobby dreamily, 'but he's bound to come, I'm certainsure!'

  He was called into his dinner before a single carriage or cart hadpassed him. But his little face was radiantly bright as he satopposite his nurse and ate his hot mutton and rice pudding at thenursery table.

  'I 'specs the House is very busy to-day,' he remarked with a knowinglittle nod of his head. 'Which is Master Mortimer's room, Nurse?'

  'Master Mortimer, indeed! Who's been talking to you of him I'd like toknow! You must be a good boy and stay quiet in the nursery. I'venever seen your grandmother so upset. She's proper excited, and won'tgo out for her drive this afternoon, and I'm helping Jane get out allthe old bits of furniture that used to belong in his room before everhe went abroad. 'Twas his only sending a telegram yesterday so suddenlike, and no letter nor nothing to prepare us, that has taken us soaback. He's to have his old room, the one at end of the passage. It'sgoing to rain, so you'd best stay in the nursery this afternoon, and Ishall be busy.'

  Bobby promised to be good, but with the sounds of such an unusualbustle in the house what small boy could resist peeping through thegreen baize door occasionally to see what was going on? And at last,thinking the coast quite clear, he made one of his rapid rushes alongthe corridor and into the room that was being prepared for the guest.Here he gazed round him with innocent admiration. The room was barelyfurnished, but a fox's brush and some sporting-prints round the walls,one of which depicted a cock fight, interested him greatly. He wasstanding on tiptoe at the dressing-table opening some little chinapots, when approaching footsteps made him start. Then, as the doorhandle turned, he scrambled under the bed and lay still, hardly daringto breathe. It was his grandmother with Jane. She was speaking inrather an agitated voice.

  'He slept in this room many years ago, Jane, and I wish things to be ashe left them. Yes, even this cricket bat that I have just found in theattic. He used to have it in the corner by the fireplace, and I wishyou to place it there now.'

  She came up to the bed, smoothed the pillow with her hand, looked atthe pictures on the walls, sighed, then went away, and Jane followedher. Bobby crept out of his hiding-place feeling very guilty. Then heeyed the cricket bat, lifted it, but found it very heavy.

  'He won't be able to play with it if he hasn't a ball!' he said tohimself. 'Perhaps he'll come and ask me for mine!'

  Very reluctantly he left the room and returned to the nursery, quiteunconscious that he had left behind him on the floor a tell-talereminder of his presence there.

  Ail that day Bobby watched and waited for the expected arrival. He wasbitterly disappointed that bedtime came before there were any signs ofhis uncle. Early the next morning he woke, wondering whether he hadcome, and when Nurse told him that it was past ten o'clock before hearrived, he eagerly enquired:

  'And did he come quite by himself?'

  'Of course, he did. I haven't seen him yet, but Jane says he'swonderful good looking.'

  When Bobby was dressed and Nurse had gone downstairs to fetch somethingfrom the servants' hall, he ran to the green baize door and crept alongthe passage to his uncle's bedroom. He listened outside, hoping hemight hear a strange voice or cough, but there was silence. Then hepeered down into a shining pair of boots which had evidently just beencleaned and placed outside the door upon the mat.

  He wondered how long it would take for his foot to grow big enough tofill such a big boot. With a little chuckle of delight he slipped histiny feet into them and managed to walk one step forward without makingmuch noise. Finally, with another little snigger of laughter, hethrust his chubby hand into the pocket of his overall and produced twobright coloured marbles. He dropped one into each boot, murmuring ashe did so:

  'For Master Mortimer, with mine own dear love.'

  And then, rather aghast at his audacity, he fled along the passage tohis own territory, laughing softly as he went. After his nurserybreakfast he was turned into the kitchen garden again. He was neversupposed to play anywhere else, but he had a way of making littleexcursions into the shrubberies. There were a good many hiding-placesin the old gardens. He considered it quite fairplay to haunt the shadypaths and even to make daring rushes out upon the lawn when no grown-upwas there. 'Children must keep out of sight,' had been dinned into hisears by his careful nurse, and as long as he did that, he consideredthat he played the game. He had no great desire to talk to anygrown-up person; he knew that he was voted a nuisance, and was quitecontent to watch them from afar. But this unknown traveller interestedhim greatly. He stole now into one of the shrubbery paths, and thensuddenly, coming towards him, he saw a tall dark man with bronzed skin,a heavy moustache, and merry blue eyes. This much Bobby noted from thedepths of a laurel bush in which he had taken refuge. He thoughthimself well hidden, and certainly his uncle was unaware of his closepresence. Suddenly, as he was passing him, close enough to touch hadhe so wished, an impulse seized Bobby to speak.

  Mr. Mortimer Egerton, sauntering lazily along in the morning sunshineand smoking his beloved pipe, was startled when he heard a lispingwhisper:

  'Where's mine father? Did you see him?'

  It brought him to a standstill; there was a rustle in the bushes. Heprobed them with his stick, but could see nothing. Then he gave chase,and soon caught sight of a vanishing blue linen smock.

  'I spy!' he shouted, and renewed his chase with vigour. But Bobby wasan experienced hider. He was small, and the bushes were thick andhigh. Keeping well under cover, he reached the kitchen garden, andheard his baffled uncle take a wrong turn into the rose walk thatstretched across the front lawn. Breathless and excited, the childreached Tom.

  'He's run after me. He was the hunter and I was a tiger in the jungle!I seed him when he couldn't see me, and I likes him!'

  'Which of course you is bound to do,' was Tom's ready response.'Master Mortimer allays twisted most folk round his little finger.'

  'I'll make him hunt me again,' said Bobby, a flush on his cheek andfire in his eye. 'He couldn't catch me, Tom. I won't be catched byhim.'

  'Master Mortimer allays used to do what he'd a mind to,' said old Tomagain.

  Bobby looked at him thoughtfully. He was beginning to be afraid ofthis uncle.