The Children of the Castle

by Mrs. Molesworth

into the river, and the river ledon to the sea, the familiar sea, not more than a mile or two from thecove below the castle. And it was only when the boat grated a little onthe pebbly shore that both Ruby and Mavis started up to find themselvesalone with Winfried. The princess had left them.

  "I will go up to the door with you," said the boy. "Miss Hortensia isexpecting you. See, there she is standing under the archway with alantern."

  "My darlings," said their cousin. "So Winfried has brought you safehome."

  "And I must hurry back," said the fisher-lad. And almost before theycould thank him or say good-night, he had disappeared again in thefast-gathering gloom.

  It seemed to the children as Miss Hortensia kissed them that _years_ hadpassed since they had seen her or their home.

  "Haven't you been dreadfully lonely without us all this time, dearcousin?" said Mavis.

  "No, dears, not particularly so. It is a little later than usual, butwhen Winfried ran back to tell me he would bring you safe home, he saidit might be so."

  "Was it only _this_ afternoon we went?" said Ruby wonderingly.

  Miss Hortensia looked at her anxiously.

  "My dear, are you very tired? You seem half asleep."

  "I am rather sleepy," said Ruby. "Please may we go to bed at once."

  "Certainly. I will tell Ulrica to take your supper upstairs. I do hopeyou haven't caught cold. We must shut the door;" for they were standingall this time at the entrance under the archway. "Bertrand is behindyou, I suppose?"

  The little girls looked at each other.

  "We have not seen him for ever so long," they replied.

  "He would not stay with me," said Ruby.

  "I thought perhaps we should find him here," said Mavis.

  Miss Hortensia looked more annoyed than anxious. "I suppose he willfind his way back before long," she said. "Bad pennies always turn up.But he is a most troublesome boy. I wish I had asked Winfried what todo--"

  "I don't think he could have done anything," said Mavis. "But--I'm sureBertrand is safe. What's the matter, Ulrica?"

  For at that moment--they were on their way upstairs by this time--theyoung maid-servant came flying to meet them, her face pale, her eyesgleaming with fear.

  "Oh," she cried, "I am glad the young ladies are safe back. Martin hasseen the blue light in the west turret; he was coming from the village afew minutes ago, and something made him look up. It is many and many ayear since it has been seen, not since the young ladies were babies, andit always--"

  "Stop, Ulrica," said Miss Hortensia sharply. "It is very wrong of youto come startling us in that wild way, and the young ladies so tired asyou see. Call Bertha and Joseph. You take the children to their room,and see that they are warm and comfortable. I will myself go up to thewest turret with the others and put a stop to these idle tales."

  But Ruby and Mavis pressed forward. A strange thought had struck themboth.

  "Oh cousin, let us go too," they said. "We are not a bit frightened."

  So when old Joseph and Bertha had joined them, the whole party set offfor the turret.

  As they got near to the top of the stair, a slight sound made them allstart.

  "Hush!" said Miss Hortensia. They stood in perfect silence. It cameagain--a murmur of faint sobs and weeping. Ulrica grew whiter andwhiter.

  "I told you so," she began, but no one listened. They all pressed on,Miss Hortensia the first.

  When she opened the door it was, except for the lamp she held in herhand, upon total darkness. But in one corner was heard a sort ofconvulsive breathing, and then a voice.

  "Who's there? Who's there? Oh the pain, the cruel pain!"

  And there--lying on the same little couch-bed on which years and yearsago Miss Hortensia had slept and dreamt of the lovely fairy lady--wasBertrand--weeping and moaning, utterly broken down.

  But he turned away sullenly from Miss Hortensia when she leant over himin concern and pity; he would not look at Ruby either, and it was nottill after some moments had passed that they at last heard him whisper.

  "Mavis, I want to speak to Mavis. Go away everybody. I only wantMavis."

  They all looked at each other in mute astonishment. They thought he waswandering in his mind. But no; he kept to the same idea.

  "Mavis," he repeated, "come here and give me your hand. I can't seeyou. Oh the pain, the pain!" Then Mavis came forward, and the othersdrew back in a group to the door.

  "Try and find out what it is; surely it is not another naughty trickthat he is playing," said Miss Hortensia anxiously.

  "No, no. I am sure it isn't. Don't be afraid, dear cousin," said thelittle girl.

  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  OPENED EYES.

  "The world that only thy spirit knows Is the fairest world of the three."

  _Three Worlds_.

  "Mavis," whispered Bertrand, when he was sure the others were out ofearshot, "you can understand; they would think I was mad. Listen--stoopdown--it is _she_. You know who I mean. She made me see her, and oh,the pain is too awful. It isn't only in my eyes, it goes down into myheart somehow. What shall I do? Can't you make her come to take itaway? I've been crying and crying to her, but she won't."

  "Perhaps it is that you _must_ bear it," said Mavis. "Think that way,and see if that makes it any better." The boy gasped, but did notspeak. After a moment or two he went on again.

  "I was in the caves behind the cottage. I ran in to get out of thestorm, and because I didn't want to go looking for you. I thought youwere drowned, and I didn't want to see your white face," he shivered."And I was peeping about in one of the caves when I fell; I don't knowhow or where. I fell down, down, ever so far. I thought I was nevergoing to stop, and then my breath went away, and I didn't know anythingtill I found myself in another cave, all knocked about and bruised. I'maching now all over, but I don't mind that. And then, Mavis, _she_ cameand looked at me."

  "You saw her?" said Mavis.

  "Yes--oh Mavis, she made my eyes go up to hers. And oh, the pain! Shedidn't say anything except just `Bertrand.' But I knew all she meant,better than by any speaking. And she was kind; she lifted me andcarried me up here. And she put something on my leg; that was where Iwas most hurt, I think. Then she sat by me here, and she put it allinto my mind, all the naughty things I'd ever done. Mavis, I didn'tknow, I _really_ didn't, how bad I was. It came out of her eyessomehow, though I dared not look again; and when she went away, eventhough I _think_ she kissed me, the pain got worse and worse. Oh Mavis,will it ever go? Will my eyes ever feel the same again?"

  "No," said Mavis, "I don't think they'll ever feel the _same_, forthey'll feel much, much better than they used to. The pain will go,though it may come back sometimes, to _remind_ you."

  "I shan't need reminding," said the boy. "I can't ever forget. I'msure of that. I wish I could!"

  "No, Bertrand, I don't think you do wish that."

  He gave an impatient wriggle, but without speaking.

  "Oh the pain," he cried again in a moment or two, "and it did seem alittle better."

  Miss Hortensia came forward.

  "Mavis, my dear, what is it? Where is he hurt? And why did you hideyourself up here, Bertrand, instead of coming to me?"

  Bertrand would not answer. He turned his face away again.

  "He's had a fall, cousin Hortensia," said Mavis. "But I don't thinkit's very bad, he says he's only bruised and sore. Bertrand, do youthink you can manage to get down to your own room?"

  "If you'll come at one side and Joseph at the other, I'll try," said theboy, with unusual graciousness. "And when I'm in bed, will you staybeside me, Mavis? I think the pain isn't so bad when you're there," hewhispered, so that no one else could hear.

  Miss Hortensia was quick-witted.

  "I will order a fire to be lighted in Bertrand's room," she said; "andif you like, Mavis, you may have your supper there beside him."

  She hurried away, calling Ruby to go with her.
It was a sign of a verydifferent state of things with Ruby that she showed, and felt, nojealousy at Bertrand's preference for her sister.

  "Poor Bertrand," she said to herself softly, "perhaps I made himnaughtier than he would have been."

  The boy was more hurt than he would allow, but he put great constrainton himself, and limped downstairs with scarcely a groan.

  "It's nothing compared to the other pain," he murmured. And when he wasat last safely deposited in his little bed,