The Children of the Castle

by Mrs. Molesworth

he looked so white andpitiful that for the first time Mavis stooped down and gave him a lovingkiss. Bertrand started.

  "What is it?" said Mavis.

  "I don't know," he replied. "When you kissed me, the pain got worse fora moment; it gave a great stab, but now it seems better. If you'll kissme again, Mavis, the last thing when you say good-night, perhaps I'll beable to go to sleep."

  She stayed beside him all the rest of the evening. He scarcely spoke,only groaning a little from time to time. When Miss Hortensia came into send Mavis to bed, she began for the first time to feel really uneasyabout the boy.

  "Mavis," she said, not meaning Bertrand to hear, "if he isn't betterto-morrow morning, we must send for the doctor."

  "Perhaps," said the little girl, "he could do something to take away theaching--poor Bertrand is aching all over from his fall."

  "I don't mind that," said the boy suddenly. "It isn't that, you know itisn't, Mavis, and I won't have the doctor."

  Ruby, who had stolen in behind her cousin, crept up to Mavis.

  "Do you think," she whispered, "do you think, Mavis, that he has seen_her_, and that that's it?" Mavis did not answer.

  "Bertrand," she said, "we are going to bed now; do you mind being leftalone for the night?"

  "No," he said, "I'd rather, unless it was you, and you can't stay.You'd be too tired. Listen," and he drew her down to him, "do you thinkperhaps she'll come again and take away the pain? For I _am_ sorrynow--I am sorry--and I didn't know how bad I was."

  "Poor Bertrand," whispered Mavis pityingly. "Perhaps she will come.Any way, if you are patient and try to think the pain has to be, I thinkit will get better, even if it doesn't go away altogether."

  And again she kissed him.

  "Mavis," said Ruby, as the two little sisters were lying side by side intheir white curtained beds, "cousin Hortensia may not know it, andnobody may know it, but _I_ know it, and it is that years have passedsince we went to bed here last night."

  "Yes," said Mavis. "I think so too. There are some things that youcan't count time for, which are really far more than any time."

  "All my hating of Bertrand has gone away now," continued Ruby. "Only Idon't want him to stay here, because the naughty in him and the naughtyin me might get together again like it did before."

  "Why don't you think of the good in him and the good in you joining tomake you both better; and the good in me too! I suppose it isn'tconceited to think there is a little good in oneself, at least there'strying to be and wanting to be," said Mavis, with a little sigh. "Butyou're so much quicker and cleverer than I am, Ruby, I wish you wouldthink about helping me and not about being naughty. And, oh Ruby, isn'tit lovely to think that we may go sometimes to Forget-me-not Land?"

  "Let's go to sleep now as quick as we can and dream of it," said Ruby.

  Bertrand looked still very white and ill the next day. He was veryquiet and subdued, and even gave in to Miss Hortensia's decision thatthe doctor must be sent for. The doctor came "and shook his head." Theboy was not in a satisfactory condition,--which they knew already as ithappened, otherwise the doctor would not have been sent for,--he hadbeen shaken by the fall, and it was possible that his back had beeninjured. There was not much comfort in all this, certainly, but itdecided one thing, that he was to stay where he was for the present, notto attempt to get up or to move about. And, strange to say, this tooBertrand accepted uncomplainingly.

  He said no word to the doctor of the strange pain he had confided aboutto Mavis; and though his eyes seemed sad and wearied, they had a newlook in them which had never been there before. Even Miss Hortensia wasmoved by it, though hitherto, and rightly, she had been inclined totreat Bertrand's troubles as well deserved.

  "Is there anything we can do for you, my poor boy?" she said kindly.

  "No, thank you," he replied; "except to let Mavis come to stay beside mesometimes--and--" he hesitated, "if the fisher-boy, Winfried, comes tothe castle, I'd like to see him."

  "Certainly," Miss Hortensia answered. "But I doubt if he will come anymore. I hear in the village that his grandfather has gone away, quiteaway, to a milder part of the country. I can't understand it, it seemsso sudden."

  But Winfried did come, that very afternoon. His new home was not sovery far away, he told Miss Hortensia with a smile. "Gran's home, thatis to say," he went on. "But I myself am going to have a different kindof home now. I'm going to sea; I've always wished it, and gran haswished it for me."

  "But won't he miss you terribly?" asked the lady. "I'll often be withhim, and he's well cared for where he is," said the boy.

  And then Mavis took him up to see Bertrand, with whom she left him alonefor some time.

  There was a brighter look in the boy's face when she went back to him.

  "Winfried has promised to come again before he goes quite away," hesaid. "Did you know, Mavis, that he is going ever so far away? He isgoing to be a sailor, a real sailor, not a fisherman. He says he hasalways wanted it, but he couldn't leave his grandfather alone here wherethe village people were not--" Bertrand stopped suddenly, as it struckhim that it was not the ignorant village people only who had been unkindto good old Adam. Mavis understood but said nothing. And after a bitBertrand went out again.

  "Mavis," he said, "I've seen her again. Either I saw her or I dreamt ofher. I don't much mind which it was, for it's all come true. She saidI must try to bear it, like what you said, Mavis; and it has got better.But she said it would come back again, and that I'd get to want it tocome back--at least, unless I wanted to forget her, and I don't want todo that. I don't think I _could_, even if I tried. And she kissed me--my eyes, Mavis; so you see I couldn't forget her now."

  "You never could, I'm sure," said Mavis; "that's what she is; it's hername."

  Bertrand threw himself back with a sigh.

  "I can't feel like you," he said. "I've never thought about being good,and sometimes I think I won't try. Oh Mavis!"

  "Was it the pain again?" said the little girl sympathisingly, though inher heart she felt inclined to smile a very little.

  "Yes," said Bertrand dolefully, "I'm afraid it will take an awfully longtime before I begin to get the least bit good," and he sighed againstill more deeply.

  Just then Ruby put her head in at the door. She and Bertrand were notyet quite at ease with each other, but she came up to his bedside verygently and said she hoped he was better, to which he replied meeklyenough, though rather stiffly.

  "Mavis," said Ruby eagerly, pleased to find something to talk about,"have you heard about Winfried? about his going to be a real sailor?"

  "Yes," said Mavis. "Bertrand was talking about it."

  Bertrand sat up and his eyes sparkled.

  "I didn't mean to tell you," he said, "but I think I must. Do you know,I believe I shall be a sailor too? Papa has always wanted it since Iwas quite little, and I shall soon be old enough to begin. But Ithought I wouldn't like it till I came here and saw the sea; and nowWinfried's talking has made it come into my mind, just the way papa saidit did into his when he was a boy."

  Ruby glanced at him admiringly.

  "How brave you are, Bertrand!" she said, which was a very foolishspeech.

  "No," he said with a touch of his old roughness, "I'm not. It isn'tthat at all. Mavis, would you be glad for me to be a sailor?"

  "If you found it the best thing for you I'd be glad," said Mavis."Sailors must see wonderful and beautiful things," she went onthoughtfully.

  "Perhaps you and Winfried might be sailors together some time," saidRuby. "That would be nice."

  "Yes," said Bertrand. "When I got to be captain or something like that,I'll look him up, and--" but he stopped abruptly. There had been atouch of arrogance in his tone.

  Just then Ruby ran off. Mavis was going too, but Bertrand stopped her.

  "Mavis," he said, "Winfried knows all about _her_. He calls her hisprincess."

  "I know," said Mavis.

  "And," Bertrand went
on, "he says he knows she'll never be far away ifhe wants her. Even _ever_ so far away, over at the other side of theworld, out at sea with no land for weeks and months; he says it would bejust the same, or even better. The loneliness makes it easier to seeher sometimes, he says. I can fancy that," he went