Chapter VI.
HIS FATHER.
'Master Bobby is wanted in the drawing-room.'
Jane brought this message up just as the nursery tea was being clearedaway.
'Are there visitors?' enquired Nurse.
'Yes; a gentleman.'
It was only on rare occasions that the child was sent for. Nurse wasin a flutter at once, putting on his best brown velvet suit, with hislittle cream-silk shirt, and brushing out his curls with great skilland care.
Bobby did not like the summons at all. He remembered the last time hehad been in the drawing-room. It was to see an old clergyman who hadpatted him on the head and asked him if he knew his Catechism. He hadwriggled away from him, and upset a vase of flowers upon a table near,and had been sent upstairs in disgrace, his grandmother declaring that'children were always out of place in a drawing-room.'
'It's another old gempleum, Nurse. I don't like them at all.'
But when he opened the drawing-room door he saw his grandmother sittingin her stiffest sternest attitude, and, seated opposite to her, thetall man with the bright eyes and the curly hair who had rescued himthat afternoon from the bull.
Bobby's heart sank into his boots at once. So he had come to telltales of him to his grandmother. He had had one scolding and apunishment from Nurse, now he would get another!
'Come here, Bobby,' said his grandmother coldly. 'Your father has cometo see you.'
He could not believe his ears. For an instant he gazed wildly anduncomprehendingly at the stranger, who turned and held out his hand.
'Why, upon my word! You're the little chap who withstood the furiousbull! Come along. No wonder I felt as I did when I saw you!'
How often had Bobby rehearsed this scene to himself! He had picturedhimself flinging himself with a glad cry into the arms of his father,and that father gathering him to his breast and smothering him withkisses. How different was reality to fancy! He was too dazed by thesuddenness of the discovery to do more than stare stupidly up at hisfather, who drew him gently to him and kissed him on the forehead.
Then he heard his father tell his grandmother about the bull, and Mrs.Egerton said:
'What possessed you to do such a naughty thing as to go out on thehigh-road alone, Bobby? You might have been killed, and we should nothave known where you were. What made you do it?'
Bobby looked up at his grandmother with big frightened eyes.
'I went to meet my father,' he faltered.
Mr. Allonby gave a short laugh; his grandmother looked quite horrified.
'You know that is an untruth,' she said. 'Your father must be quiteshocked to hear you.'
Bobby did not attempt to defend himself. His under lip quivered, andin his small heart was a passionate desire to prove himself innocent ofa lie.
His eyes turned to his father, who was looking down upon him with astrange gravity, but though he wanted to speak he could not.
'Never mind,' his father said cheerfully, 'he did meet me, and I cannotyet take in the strange coincidence of it. If I hadn't come by when Idid---- Well, it does not bear thinking about. Did you know you had afather living, Bobby? For your grandmother seems to have thought I wasdead. I suppose my long silence has seemed inexcusable, but I ampositive that I wrote twice after your daughter's death, Mrs. Egerton,and to neither letter received any reply. Then I went off with anexploring party through South America, and have been out of touch withcivilisation for the past five years. Last summer I took up life againin Canada, and only came home three months ago. I have been ill twomonths of that time.'
There was silence. Bobby felt uncomfortable; why, he did not know.His father looked at him again and sighed.
'Well, I see he is cared for, Mrs. Egerton, and had better fall in withyour wishes. My wife----'
'Your present wife need not be brought into our discussion.'
Mr. Allonby rose to his feet, for Mrs. Egerton's words were bitter andproud.
'I'll see the boy once again before I leave this part, and now I'llwish you good afternoon.'
'I'm coming with you, Father.'
Bobby's voice rang out eagerly, expectantly. He had not a doubt butthat he would be taken away at once.
His father looked at him astonished, then smiled and shook his head.
'Oh no, my boy; you belong to your grandmother, not to me. I hear youare going to school soon. I dare say you will find some boys there whowill be as hard to tackle as a run-away bull.'
At this juncture Bobby's aunt entered the room, and the little boyslipped away unnoticed to the hall. His small soul was full ofagonised dismay and bewilderment. Was this to be the end of all hishopes and expectations? His father did not want him; he said he didnot belong to him. This last assertion was like a stab. Bobby stoodlooking out of the front door, which was open, into the sunny gardenbeyond, and there the sight of his father's small motor standingpuffing away upon the drive filled him suddenly with a desperateresolve.
'I won't be left behind. I will go with father. I don't belong tothis old House. I don't belong to grandmother. I belongs to him forever and ever. Amen!'
He darted down the steps towards the motor. Then a fear smote him.The little girl. Who was she? Where was she? But the motor wasempty, there was no sign of her. He climbed into the car, and inanother moment was safely tucked out of sight under the seat. He hadbeen accustomed to hide in out of the way corners in his grandmother'spart of the house. He had often, when making secret excursions on hisown account, been nearly surprised by the 'grown-ups.' Sometimes hehad lain almost breathless under a chintz-covered couch, or crouchedbehind a curtain till the moment of danger was past. His whole soulwas in revolt against his father's decision. He pitifully thought thatif only he explained things to his father, if only he was granted afair hearing, without feeling the cold disapproving gaze of hisgrandmother upon him, he might win his case.
So he lay, grasping Nobbles tightly in agony lest he should bediscovered and dragged out of his hiding-place. It seemed hours to himbefore he heard his father's voice and step, and his parting words tohis aunt, who had accompanied him to the hall door, were not reassuring.
'I must see him once again before leaving this part; but I'm quitesatisfied that you can do better for him than I can.'
Then he jumped into his car, and in a moment they were gliding down thedrive and out upon the high-road. A little exultant feeling came toBobby when they were once away and going at full speed. His heartthumped loudly; he was extremely uncomfortable and dared not change hisposition, but he could not help whispering to Nobbles in triumph:
'We're on, Nobbles, and we never will go back to the House again.'
It did not seem very long before the car stopped. Bobby heard men'svoices talking, but he did not move until his father had left the car.Then he peeped out and saw him going into the principal hotel of themarket town. When he had disappeared through the door Bobby crept fromhis hiding-place, and, strangely enough, though there were two or threeostlers standing by, he escaped observation. He was very disappointedto find they were no farther away, for he dreaded being taken back tohis grandmother again. Then his natural hopefulness came to his aid.
'Father will keep me when I tells him how I want him; and if he tellsme to go home I'll come out and hide under the seat. Me and Nobblesdon't mean to leave him now we've found him.'
He pushed the hotel door open, but there was no sign of his father.Nothing disconcerted, Bobby opened every door he saw and peeped insidethe rooms, and when he did not find him downstairs, he climbed upstairs.
And at last he was successful. In a comfortable sitting-room hisfather was just in the act of drawing an easy-chair to the window, andthe little girl was by his side.
'Did you see him, dad?' she was asking eagerly. 'Did you see your ownlittle boy? And what was he like? Do tell me.'
Mr. Allonby dropped into his seat with a heavy sigh.
'Not a bit like his mother, True. Very l
ike what I was at his age, I'mafraid.'
'I belongs to you, father.'
Bobby could keep silence no longer. Decision and some reproach was inhis tone. His father started from his chair as if he had been shot.The little girl laughed and clapped her hands.
'You brought him as a s'prise, dad. You brought him to play with me!'
'On my honour I didn't, True. It's some magic, I think. Come here myboy. How on earth did you get here?'
Bobby marched up to his father. He wanted to show what a man he was,but his lips quivered, and his hand grasping Nobbles quivered too.
'I comed in your carriage under the seat. I didn't tell an untroof. Idid walk out on the road to meet you. I've been waiting years and_years_ for you to come for me.'
Then his self-control gave way; he grasped hold of his father's coatand burst into tears.
In an instant his father had lifted him upon his knee, and that wasBobby's happy moment. He tried to check his sobs.
'I belongs to you; I don't want to go back to the House nevermore; meand Nobbles have come to stay.'
Mr. Allonby put his hand on the curly head that was now burrowingitself into his waistcoat pocket.
'This is quite a surprise to me, my sonny. Bobby you're called, areyou not? Aren't you happy with your grandmother?'
'I belongs to you,' Bobby repeated pitifully. 'I knewed you would comefor me one day. _Every_ day I've expecked you. I told Master Mortimeryou couldn't be lost. I knewed you couldn't.'
He raised his face to his father's now, triumphantly, trustingly, andthat look decided his fate. 'You do belong to me, Bobby, and we'llfind a corner for you somewhere; but I mustn't kidnap you in thisfashion. I'll take you back to your grandmother, and talk to her aboutit. She'll be alarmed about you.'
Bobby began to cry again in an agitated fashion.
'I can't go back! Me and Nobbles won't! If you take me back I'll bepunished. The House doesn't want me; and Nurse can come and live withus, father; she'll understand. She know's how I've been looking foryou _every_ day.'
'But what made you look for me? Who put such an idea in your head?'
Bobby stopped his tears to consider, and a slow smile spread over hisface.
'I reely believe it was Nobbles,' he said, holding up his stick to hisfather admiringly. 'It was ever so many years ago,' he added hastily.'Me and Nobbles have always talked about you coming to fetch me awayone day. I fink it was Nobbles who told me first.'
Mr. Allonby gazed at his little son with a comical look of dismay.Then he put him down from his knees and took a few quick turns up anddown the room. At last he turned to the little girl, who was staringat Bobby in silence.
'I want your mother's advice, True; she says I am always makingblunders. I think I'll send a note back to Bobby's grandmother, andinstead of staying here the night we'll motor straight back to motherand ask her what we had better do. We'll take Bobby with us. I don'tknow whether that will be right though. I'm afraid you ought to goback, little chap.'
Mr. Allonby looked very much worried. Bobby shook his heademphatically.
'Me and Nobbles couldn't never go back. We belongs to you.'
'Oh, bring him to mother, dad. She'll love him; he looks so lovely.And isn't he very like that little boy who got nearly tossed with abull yesterday?'
'He's the same; that's the extraordinary thing. Yes, I'll send thenote, and we'll take him along to mother. His grandmother can send forhim from there if she wants him.'
Mr. Allonby walked to a writing-table and began to write a letter infurious haste.
True put out her little fingers and stroked Bobby's velvet sleeve.
'What a nice coat you've got on!'
Boy-like, Bobby did not think much of his clothes.
'Who are you?' he asked curiously.
'Dad's little girl.'
'Father has no one but me,' said Bobby, with scarlet cheeks. 'I'm hisown proper boy.'
'Yes,' said True meekly, 'I know you are. I don't think I'm quite aproper child, because my own father is dead, but dad is my next one,and mother's my _very_ own. She doesn't belong to you at all, only to_me_.'
The relationship puzzled Bobby, and did not altogether please him. Hehad been so accustomed to think of himself and his father quite alone,that this little girl and her mother seemed quite unnecessary.
Conversation languished between them until Mr. Allonby had finished hisnote; then he left the room, found a messenger to take it at once, andthen for the next ten minutes all was bustle and confusion gettingready for the return journey.
'If we are quick we shall get home by nine o'clock, True,' Mr. Allonbysaid as he wrapped a heavy rug round Bobby and tucked him in by hisside in the car.
Five minutes afterwards they were going swiftly up the high-road. ToBobby it all seemed a dream. He grasped Nobbles tightly, but no fearassailed him. He had prepared himself too long for the possibility ofgoing off with an unknown father to be much disturbed now.
And the strangeness of his journey fascinated him. True on one side ofhim, his father on the other--both strangers to him a few hours ago.They passed in the dusk the identical spot where he had stoodconfronting the bull that same afternoon. It seemed to be a year ago.True looked out as they passed, rather sleepily.
'That's where dad charged the bull! Oh, it was horrid! I thought wewere going to be smashed up!'
Bobby snuggled closer to his father's side, and Mr. Allonby saidshortly:
'We won't think any more about that, True.'
It grew darker as they flew along; trees by the roadside began to turnblack and grim. A belt of pinewood looked as if it contained a band ofrobbers ready to spring out upon any unlucky passer-by.
The light from their lamps seemed to cast strange shadows across theroad. They passed through two or three villages where the lights fromthe cottage windows looked to Bobby like fallen stars. True soon wentto sleep, but the small boy sat looking out with wide awe-strickeneyes. He had never been out at night before, and everything he saw wasabsorbing. Mr. Allonby did not speak. He was very doubtful as towhether he had acted wisely in taking Bobby off in such a fashion, andwas more than half inclined to turn back and hand him over to hisgrandmother again. He looked down upon him with a mixture of affectionand anxiety. At last, meeting the steadfast gaze of two bright browneyes, he said:
'Well, what do you think of your father, Bobby?'
'You aren't the same as I finked about,' responded the child readily.
'Tell me how I am different.'
'I finked you would be a big man with a black beard, who would take meto live in a cave in the mountains, or fight with the Red Ingines.Nurse's brother said he expecked you would be like that.'
'You want a life of adventure and travel!'
Mr. Allonby's eyes sparkled, though he was staring in front of him andmaking his car go beyond the limited speed at this juncture.
'Then you're a proper son of mine, Bobby, and I won't let you go.We'll do some travels together.'
And we'll leave the little girl at home,' suggested Bobby.
His father laughed aloud.
'True? Bless her heart! Do you know where I first met her, Bobby?Careering on a wild prairie; run away on a half-broken colt, and beenlost for two days; and when I took her back to her mother----'
He stopped and smiled to himself in the darkness.
'Ah, well! That was a good day in my life, and better ones followed.No, you and True must be friends. Truant is her name by rights, forher mother never could keep her indoors or at home. Now, Bobby, lookahead! Do you see those lights? We go through the town; and justoutside is our home--a very tiny one at present, for we move about; butwe'll find a corner for you.'
He slackened speed. Slowly they passed through the streets of anold-fashioned cathedral town. Soon the houses became more scarce, andat last they came to a standstill before an iron gate in a wall. Truewoke up, and she and Bobby were bundled out.
'
Go up to the door; I'll take the car into the shed and join you.'
True pulled Bobby after her up a narrow gravel path. It was dark, butthere was a sweet smell of mignonette and of roses. Bobby was dimlyconscious of two old-fashioned borders of flowers edging their path. Alight shone out of a casement window on the ground floor which wasopen. True ran up to it and put her head in.
'We're back, motherums, and we've brought dad's little boy with us.'
Then she thumped impatiently upon the door till it was opened by anoldish woman.
'Now, Miss True, be quiet; and who's this without a hat?'
'I'm going to take him to Mother, Margot. Let us pass.'
The tiny hall seemed almost like a doll's house to Bobby. He hungback; sudden shyness seized him.
'I think I'll wait for my father,' he said.
True released his hand, and dashed into the front room. Margot lookeddown upon him in puzzled wonder, but a step outside made her smile.
'Ah! Here's the master,' she murmured; and Mr. Allonby's hand was uponBobby's shoulder the next instant.
'Now, little chap, come and see your new mother.'
'Me and Nobbles' Page 7
