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56. "O mama! then can he see again?"
"No, my dear. It was not written by him, but only at his dictation.
There is a good deal of reason in what he says, but it is all so
unexpected."
"What is it, mama?"
"He asks if I will shut up the Hermitage for the winter, and come
with you all and stay at the Crag."
"O mama! Why?"
"To keep him company, he says. To cheer him up. To make a little
life about the old house for a poor blind man."
"But, mama, he isn't going to be blind, is he?" cried Esther,
distressed.
"I hope not indeed, dear. He has seen the oculist again, and hopes
are held out—strong hopes, he says—that he will recover the sight of
one eye, at least. But recovery will be slow, and it must not be forced,
or he may lose his sight altogether. For the next few months he will
have to be content to use other people's eyes more than his own. Of
course that is much better than being always blind. But the poor man
feels it a good deal, one can see."
"And he wants us to go and stay with him?"
"That is what he asks—to stay for the winter months, and see how
we get on. As he says, he is very dependent upon Mr. Earle, and it
would be much more convenient if the boys were living in his house,
so that the lessons could be given there; and then, as he cannot read
or study or employ himself as he has been used to do, a silent house,
with nobody to speak to for the greater part of the day, would be very
dreary for him. He says that he has no kinsfolk except ourselves.
Your father was the last blood relation of whom he knows anything,
and he seems to feel that we belong to him in a certain sort of way.
What do you think about it, Esther, my dear? Do you think we ought
to go?"
Esther's face was quite flushed and eager.
"O mama, if we can help him, I think we ought!"
57. "He says we might bring Genefer as my maid, and make any
arrangements we liked about the other servants, and he would see
that the house and garden here were properly cared for. Of course, it
would be a great saving of trouble and expense in a way, but it would
not be quite like living at home. Mr. Trelawny would be the master,
and we should all have to keep his rules. But that might be a good
thing for the boys. I sometimes think they want a stronger hand over
them."
"I think it would be a very good plan," said Esther; "they are
getting so much better, and they are fond of Mr. Trelawny. He would
make them obey, and they would like it. They always obey Mr. Earle
now, and they like him better than anybody almost."
"It would be more the sort of life they have been accustomed to—a
big house and a man's authority," said Mrs. St. Aiden reflectively.
"And Mr. Trelawny is a sort of guardian to you, and has been a most
kind friend to me since your father died. We must not forget that. He
asks it as a favor to himself. You can read the letter if you like."
Esther did so, and looked up with the sparkle of tears in her eyes.
"O mama, you will go, won't you?"
"I suppose so, dear, if you like the plan, and think you could all be
happy there. As he says, it is a big house, and we should have our
own rooms, and the boys' noise need not trouble him more than he
cares about. I don't think their father would mind. After all, it is only
a long visit. He only asks us just for the winter months."
"He wants us to go as soon as we can," said Esther.
"Yes, you see he feels his blindness so much, and a merry houseful
about him would cheer him up. Well, dear, would you like to run up
and tell him that we will try the experiment? It will save me the
trouble of writing, and I think he will like to hear it from your lips.
And Mr. Trelawny is always in a hurry to carry out his plans."
Esther smiled a little at that. She knew very well that Mr. Trelawny
never waited an hour if he could help it. It was his impatience of
delay that had caused the accident which had partly destroyed his
sight, and might have caused his death.
58. "I should like to go, mama, if you like me to. I have done my
lessons for to-day. The boys are having their navigation. I don't do
that with them."
"Well, then, run off, dear, with the answer. I don't see how we
could refuse. And I always think that this house in the winter is just a
little damp. I shall be glad to be out of it before the fall of the leaf."
Esther had her hat in her hand, and was soon on her way to the
Crag. How strange to think that before long she might be actually an
inmate of that house! And how much stranger still that she was not a
bit afraid of the prospect!
It was a beautiful afternoon—as warm as summer; and when
Esther approached the house, she gave a little jump of surprise, for
there was Mr. Trelawny lying on a couch on the terrace, his eyes still
bandaged up so that he could see nothing, but at least he could
breathe the fresh wind blowing softly off the sea, and Esther knew
how he would like that.
She ran forward, forgetting all about her old shyness.
"O Mr. Trelawny, how nice for you to be out of doors!"
"Ha! is that my little Goldylocks?" said the invalid, stretching out
the hand he could use. "So you have found your way up to the old
blind man, have you? I suppose you have not brought me any letter
from your mother yet. That would be too soon."
Esther clasped her two hands around that of Mr. Trelawny, and
said,—
"Mama said I might run up and tell you. She has got your letter,
and we think it so kind of you. We should like very much to come and
pay you a nice long visit, if you don't think we shall be in your way."
His strong fingers closed over her little hands in a tight grip; she
could see that his mouth was smiling, and that there was pleasure in
every line of his face.
"Is that so, little woman? Have you taken counsel together over the
blind man's request? Of course your mother would not settle
anything so important without the leave of the 'little manager.'"
59. Esther did not mind being teased now, not one bit. She gave a little
soft laugh as she answered,—
"We think it would be a very nice plan, if you like it too. I know the
boys will be just delighted. They think this is the very nicest house in
the whole place, and I think it will suit mama. She will enjoy this nice
sunny terrace in fine weather, and the view of the sea. We can't see a
bit of the sea from our house."
"And will somebody else enjoy it too?" asked Mr. Trelawny. "What
about my little Goldylocks herself?"
"Oh, I shall like it!" answered Esther softly, stroking the hand she
held. "I think it is beautiful up here, and I like being useful. Do you
think I can be useful to you, Uncle Robert, if I come?"
"I mean to make you very useful, little woman," he said. "It was
partly for that reason I thought out the plan. I want a little niece or
granddaughter of my own to wait upon me and take care of me. As I
haven't got one quite of my own, I have to do the next best thing, and
try to steal one who will do instead."
A little while ago Esther would have shaken in her shoes at the
notion of being stolen by Mr. Trelawny, but now she listened to these
words with only a little thrill of pleasure.
"I should like to be your little granddaughter," she said. "You must
tell me what you want me to do."
He drew her down beside him on the couch, and passed his hand
over her head.
"You will have to learn how to be eyes for me, for a little while at
any rate, Goldylocks, and to do the same for me that the dog does for
the blind man—lead me about, and take care that I don't fall. Will
that be a great nuisance, little woman?"
"Oh no! I like taking care of people," answered Esther earnestly;
"only I am so sorry you want taking care of at all. But it won't be for
very long. You will be able to see again soon, won't you?"
"I hope so, my little maid, I hope so. They give me good words
when I ask the question myself. But they all tell me I must be patient
—be patient; and, Esther, though I am an old man, and ought to have
60. learned that lesson long ago, I find that I have not done so. I find it
harder to be patient than anything else in the world, and it is harder
to learn lessons when we are old than when we are young. Hallo!
hallo!—what's this?"
This exclamation was caused by Mr. Trelawny's becoming aware of
something warm and damp dropping upon his hand. Esther hastily
dashed the drops from her eyes, but her old friend knew whence they
had come, and something like a quiver passed over his face.
"Child, child, you must not cry," he said.
"I was only wishing I could be blind instead of you for a little
while," said Esther, with a little catch in her voice.
Her hands were held very closely by Mr. Trelawny's strong fingers;
his voice was not a bit gruff as he answered,—
"I believe you, my dear, I believe you. You are like your father, and
he was the most unselfish man I ever knew. I believe you would give
me the eyes out of your head if you had power to do it; and as you
have not that, you must learn to use them for my benefit, and I shall
expect them to see a great deal. Tell me what you see now."
Esther looked round and scarcely knew where to begin, but she
was thinking too much of Mr. Trelawny to be self-conscious, and
soon she was telling him just how the sea looked, with the great
burning track of yellow light across it, as the sun slowly sank; and
how big and golden-red the sun grew as it drew near to the horizon;
and how the little fishing boats were all coming home; and in which
direction the clouds were sailing; and how the white-winged seagulls
were fishing in the bay, and wheeling round and round, calling to
each other with their strange, mournful cries.
It was very interesting, she thought, to try to make somebody else
see it all; and Mr. Trelawny evidently could, for he sometimes
interrupted to tell her things she had not noticed herself, so that she
often looked quickly at him to make sure that he really was not
"peeping." For she knew he must not try to use his eyes yet, even
though he might be able to see by and by with one of them at any
rate.
61. "If the sun is dipping, you must run home, childie," he said at last.
"Run home and tell your mother that I am very grateful to her for
humoring a blind man's fancy, and that the sooner she and her tribe
can come and take possession, the better he will be pleased."
"I will tell her," answered Esther. "I think we could come quite
soon. There will not be so very much to do, and if we should leave
anything behind, we can easily fetch it away afterwards. I will talk to
Genefer about that. She and I will do the packing, you know."
"Of course, of course; the 'little manager' will manage all that. I
shall soon be managed out of house and home, I expect. What a wide
field the Crag will give to such an enterprising little woman!"
"You are teasing me now," said Esther, laughing, and bending
down she kissed him on the lips, and then talking her hat, ran lightly
down the hill towards home, a very warm feeling in her heart
towards the redoubtable owner, who had once been the very terror of
her life.
Half-way down she encountered the boys, who were running to
meet her, brimful of excitement.
"O Essie! Essie! is it true?"
"Are we going to live up there?"
"Did he really ask us too? Oh, won't it be jolly? Won't it be
scrumptious? Aunt Saint said you'd gone to settle it all. Do say that
it's all settled now."
"Yes, quite," answered Esther; "Mr. Trelawny wants us to go as
soon as ever we can. He says the house seems so empty and lonely
now that he can't read or go about or amuse himself as he used to do.
And he wants Mr. Earle so much more now; that is another reason.
You must be very good and nice, boys, and not give trouble. We
mustn't worry him now that he's ill."
"We won't," cried Pickle earnestly. "We'll be as good as gold. I
mean, we'll try to be as good as we can.—Won't we, Puck?"
"We will," answered that young man solemnly. "I should like Mr.
Trelawny to like us. Perhaps, then, he'll let us stay always. I mean till
Crump—no, till father comes back or we go to school. I don't like it
62. when Mr. Earle is angry with us, and I don't want Uncle Bob to be
either."
"I think it'll be awfully nice," said Pickle, as they wended their way
home again through the wood. "I shall try and help Uncle Bob too.
Aunt Saint said he wanted you, Essie, because you would be like a
pair of eyes to him. I know why he thought that. You're always doing
kind things for other people, and you don't care about yourself if
other people are happy. I just know if I were to be ill, I should like to
have you come and see me and sit with me. It can't be just because
you're a girl, for that Pretty Polly is a girl, and she thinks herself very
good too, but I'd sooner have a toad come to sit with me than her."
"O Pickle, don't talk like that!"
"I'd twice as soon have the toad," cried Puck; "toads are nice
things, and they have such funny eyes—like precious stones. She's
just a prig, and I can't abide her. We won't ever ask her up to play at
the Crag. I shall tell Uncle Bob about her, and he won't let her come
then."
"That would be unkind," said Esther gently. "I don't think we
ought to be unkind to Prissy. She tries to be very good, you know,
and she is always obedient."
Pickle and Puck were silent for a minute. They had been thinking,
very seriously for them, about obedience of late. They had recognized
their own failure, and had been sorry for it. In the old days they had
taken this matter too lightly, but they were learning better now.
"Well," said Puck at length, "she may be obedient, but she's nasty
too. You're obedient and nice, Essie. I like you. But if you say we've
got to ask Prissy, we will; only I hope Uncle Bob will laugh the
priggishness out of her if she comes."
Great excitement reigned in the little house during the next days,
for there seemed no reason to postpone the arrangement if it were
really to be carried out. Esther and Genefer were busy putting away
household things, and packing up personal belongings. The boys
flitted hither and thither, helping and hindering, and made daily
excursions to the Crag to get news of Mr. Trelawny, and tell him how
they were getting on.
63. Lessons were not to be recommenced till the party got up to their
new quarters, and the cart came daily to fetch away boxes that were
ready for removing.
Milly and Bertie were rather sorrowful at the thought of losing
their playmates, but Puck brought good news from the Crag.
"Uncle Bob says you may come up every Saturday afternoon and
play with us. He doesn't think we shall go sailing in the Swan very
often now, because the sea gets rough in the winter; but there are no
end of jolly things to do up there, and Uncle Bob says we may have
you up whenever you can come on Saturdays. Esther can ask Prissy
too, if she wants her, but you are our friends. Prissy never cares to
play with us."
This was delightful news, for the Crag had never, been anything
but a mysterious region of wonders to the rectory children. Mr.
Trelawny had sometimes asked the parents to send them; but Mrs.
Polperran did not entirely approve of Mr. Trelawny, and she was half
afraid lest some harm should come to her brood through his love of
practical joking. It was very exciting to think of visiting there now,
and seeing all the strange things that were said to exist in that house.
"Is he really a magician or a wizard?" asked Milly with bated
breath.
"I don't believe he is," answered Pickle. "I believe he's just a nice,
jolly old gentleman; only he's very clever, and people don't
understand, and call him names. I don't believe there are any
magicians left now. I believe he's just the same as other people."
"But the pickled skeletons in the tanks," urged Milly.
"I don't believe there are any really," answered Puck, with a note of
regret in his voice; "I don't think he pickles anything except
specimens that go into bottles. We shall find out all about it when we
go to live there. But I don't believe he's a bit of a magician, and Essie
doesn't think so either. She isn't a bit afraid of him now."
The day for the flitting arrived in due course, and the carriage and
a last cart were sent down to the Hermitage to convey Mrs. St. Aiden
and her belongings. Genefer remained behind to shut up the house,
and the boys preferred to climb the hill by the path through the
64. wood. But Esther drove up with her mother by the zigzag road, and
as the great easy carriage rolled smoothly along, Mrs. St. Aiden said
with a little sigh,—
"We must persuade your Uncle Robert to go driving with us,
Esther. He is one of those men who have never cared to drive, but it
would do him good, I am sure. This is a most comfortable carriage. It
will be delightful to have the use of it, and I am sure it will do him
good to get out as much as possible."
"I dare say he would drive with you, mama," answered Esther. "We
will try to coax him. But I don't think anybody would care very much
about driving all alone."
Mr. Trelawny was standing in the hall to welcome them. He had a
stick in his hand, but he laid it down and drew Esther towards him
and kissed her.
"You will be a substitute for that now, my little maid," he said. "We
are going to have some good times together, are we not?"
The boys came rushing in at this moment, helter-skelter, bringing
an atmosphere of life and jollity with them.
"Uncle Bob!" cried Puck, rushing up and seizing his hand, almost
gasping and choking in his eagerness and excitement, "we've thought
of such a plan for you. We'll do lessons by ourselves for a little while,
and Mr. Earle shall make you an electric eye to see with, till your own
gets quite well."
65. CHAPTER XII.
A NEW CHARGE.
Esther found out very soon that Mr. Trelawny's threat of making
her his "little white slave" was not altogether an idle one.
She had laughed when he spoke the words upon a former visit to
the Crag, but she soon found that he did take up a great deal of her
time and care, and very willingly was the service rendered that his
helplessness made needful.
It seemed to be less irksome to Mr. Trelawny to be led about by the
little girl than by any other person—even Mr. Earle; and, of course, a
good deal of Mr. Earle's time was now taken up by lessons.
Esther found that her regular studies were very much interrupted
by the demands made upon her time by Mr. Trelawny; but on the
other hand, she thought she was learning as much with him, as
though she had been in the schoolroom all the time. His mind
seemed like a perfect storehouse of information; and as he took his
leisurely walks abroad, he would teach Esther all manner of things—
history, geography, physiology, geology, and all sorts of things with
long names that Esther never learned. All she knew was that she was
learning interesting things every day of her life, and that the world
seemed to be growing a bigger and more beautiful and wonderful
place than she had had the least idea of before.
Mr. Trelawny was a wonderful teacher; but he expected his lessons
to be understood and remembered. Again and again he would put a
sudden question to his little companion, asking her about something
66. he had told her on a previous occasion, or making sure that she
understood the bearing of some new piece of information he was
giving her. Esther soon conquered her first shyness, and was not a bit
afraid to ask questions and to say when she did not understand. She
found that Mr. Trelawny, though not quite so well used to teaching
as Mr. Earle, was never impatient or vexed at being asked to explain
himself. What did vex him was for anybody to make believe to
understand a thing he was saying, and then show later on that it had
not been understood at all.
As long as the fine weather lasted there were delightful things to
do. Sometimes it was a long drive, which Mrs. St. Aiden generally
shared; sometimes a sail in the Swan with Mr. Earle and the boys,
which was always a great pleasure. Then there was a great
excitement for a few days in the place, for the mackerel had come
into the bay in shoals; and the Swan went out with the other boats,
and the little Polperrans went in her, and they all had spinners, and
caught mackerel by the dozen, and fine fun they had out of it till the
fish disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
Mr. Trelawny was getting quite strong again, but he was still
forbidden to make any attempt to use his eyes, and went about with a
bandage and a shade. Perhaps it was this that made him stoop a little
in his walk, as he had never done before. Certainly his hair had
begun to grow white rather quickly. He had never seemed to be an
old man before. Esther had never thought of him as old until just
lately, although he used to speak of himself in a half-joking way as an
old fellow; but he did begin to look old now, though he seemed
strong and well in himself.
He liked to be out of doors as much as possible, and Esther was
nearly always his companion. She found this interesting in many
ways. One was that she had her lessons in a new and interesting
fashion from him. Another was that she got to know a great many
fresh people, and heard a great many interesting things about them.
Mr. Trelawny owned a good deal of land all round the Crag, and
the people who lived in the cottages were his tenants. He had known
them all his life, and they had known him. There had been Trelawnys
at the Crag for several hundreds of years. Esther found out that Mr.
Trelawny, in spite of his gruffness, was very much respected and
67. loved. She liked very much to go with him to see the cottagers and
fisher folk, and listen whilst they talked to him and told him all about
themselves, their troubles, their bits of good luck, their perplexities
with their sons and daughters, and all the different things which
went to make up the sum of their simple lives.
She grew fond of the simple people herself, who always had a smile
and soft word for "the little lady." She thought it must be very nice to
have Mr. Trelawny's power to help them in times of need, to advise
them in their troubles, to rebuke those who wanted a sharp reproof,
and to warn those who were in danger of falling into bad habits or
idle ways.
Often after these visits Mr. Trelawny would talk to Esther a great
deal about the family they had just visited, telling her its history,
what sort of people they had shown themselves in the past, and what
kind of treatment they had required.
Some children might have been bored by this sort of thing, but
Esther was never bored. It seemed to her very interesting, and she
always listened with great attention.
"You must help me at Christmas time this year, little woman," he
said one crisp December day, as they were walking home together.
"There are a lot of old fashions we keep up at Christmas here. It's one
of the relics of old times that no Trelawny has had the disposition to
do away with. Some people say that the time has gone by for that sort
of thing, and that it is obsolete and only a form of pauperization.
Perhaps they may be right. But in my day I shall change nothing. I'm
too much the old Tory for that. And you will help me this year, won't
you? You ought to see how everything is done."
"I should like to," answered Esther eagerly; "what is it you do?"
"Give a great feed—dinner, the people call it—in the hall at the
Crag, to which every tenant and his family is entitled to come, even
to the babies, if the mothers choose to bring them. No questions are
asked, nobody is turned away. Every tenant has the right to be there,
and to eat and drink to his heart's content. Five o'clock is the hour for
the feed, and after that they sing carols or old songs and make
speeches. I come in and drink a glass with them, as the Trelawnys
have always done; and when they can eat and drink no more, there is
68. a great giving of presents all round. Bran pies or a Christmas-tree for
the children, and clothing or nets or tools for the grown folks. We
keep it up till ten o'clock, and then sing 'God save the Queen,' and
send them all off to their homes. It used to be done on Christmas Eve
or on Christmas Day, but now it's on Boxing Day, as we think that
home is the right place for folks on Christmas Day itself. You will
have to be my right hand, little woman, in all the preparations we
have to make."
Esther was skipping along gaily: her face was aglow.
"How nice!" she exclaimed; "I shall like to help and to see them all.
May I come with you, Uncle Robert, when you go to see them at
dinner-time?"
"Of course you may, my dear. Indeed I particularly wish you to be
with me. I want to present you to the people then. It will be the best
opportunity for it."
Esther raised her eyes with a questioning look, but then,
remembering that he could not see, she said softly,—
"I don't think I quite understand, Uncle Robert."
His clasp upon her fingers tightened; he did not speak for a while,
and then he said slowly,—
"No, childie, I know you don't. I am debating in my mind whether
or not to tell you."
Esther looked up again with the same shade of perplexity in her
eyes, but she asked no further question. She knew she would be told
if Mr. Trelawny thought it well.
At last he spoke, but rather as though to himself and not to her. It
was as if he were debating some point in his own mind.
"I don't know why she should not be told. The Queen was no older
when she found out that in all probability she would one day have a
kingdom to rule, and her first wish and resolve were that she might
grow up a good woman. I believe it would be the same with this child
in a very little kingdom. I want her to grow up feeling what are the
duties which will some day be hers."
69. Esther's heart was beating rather fast by this time. She felt as
though something momentous was going to be spoken, and she was
not wrong. They had reached the terrace by this time, and with the
shelter of the house behind them, and the sunlight falling full upon
it, the place was quite warm—so warm that Mr. Trelawny seated
himself under the veranda, and drew the little girl between his knees.
"My dear," he said, "I suppose you are too young ever to have
wondered who will live at the Crag after I am gone."
Esther did not speak. It had certainly never entered her head to
think about such a thing as this.
"I am the last of the Trelawnys," continued the old man; "I have
not a single blood relation of that name to come after me. Once I
thought it would be otherwise. For three happy years I had a wife
living with me here, and a little boy who had just learned to call me
'daddy.' Then they were both taken away. It was all so long ago that
the folks here have almost forgotten, and some of them speak of me
as a bachelor. But I have never forgotten. I never could care for
anybody else. I have lived my life alone, and I have nobody to come
after me—nobody to love me now."
Esther suddenly raised the hand she held and carried it to her lips.
"We all love you, Uncle Robert," she said softly.
He stooped and kissed her, putting his arm round her and holding
her close. For with all her clinging, affectionate ways, Esther had
never yet spoken of loving her father's old kinsman.
"Thank you for telling me so, childie. Yes, I believe you, my dear.
Esther, do you know that you are the only blood relation I have in the
world?"
She shook her head, and he felt the motion.
"But that is so, my child. Your father was my only kinsman. At one
time I looked upon him as my heir. Then he too was taken. I brought
his wife and child to be near me, but I do not think I at once formed
any plan for the future. The estate and income are my own property.
I can dispose of them as I will. But I want to find a successor who will
love the old place, and who will be a merciful as well as a just
monarch in the little kingdom which lies around the Crag."
70. He paused, and Esther neither spoke nor moved.
"Kingdom is perhaps an obsolete word in these leveling days, yet
down here amongst these simple folk the owner of the Crag wields no
small power. It is a power I should fear to put into any but just and
merciful hands. Little Esther, do you think you could be a just and
merciful ruler here some day? Would you try—like our good and
gracious Queen—to 'be good,' to love your people, to be a wise and
God-fearing ruler, if ever that power were to be entrusted to you?"
She hid her face upon his shoulder. She was startled, overcome,
almost frightened. He felt her shiver through all her little frame. He
saw that she had understood, and that it was all a very solemn and
sacred thing to her.
He held her very closely as he went on speaking.
"Little Esther, it is a great charge, and you are but a little girl now,
but you will grow older every year; and I believe I shall be spared
many years longer myself, though I do not expect ever to be the same
man that I was before my accident. I have talked to your mother
about this, and she is willing that you should continue to live with
me, to learn the ways of the place, and how to be its mistress one day.
My will is drawn up, leaving all to you. I am just waiting till I have
my sight back to sign it. I think you are learning every day to love and
understand the people better and better. Perhaps some day you will
take my name, so as to keep the old name with the old acres; but
there is time enough to think of that. You have always been used to
having the charge of something or somebody. It will only be adding a
new one to the list. Do you think your little shoulders are strong
enough to bear the burden? Will you be my little girl now, and be
good to the people when I am gone?"
Her tears came at that, not loudly or noisily, but raining down very
fast.
"O Uncle Robert, I will do what I can. I will try to be good. But,
please, don't talk as though I were going to have it all. I can't bear
that. I only want to help you, and learn to do things as you do them."
"That is all I ask, my dear. I hope that is all that will be laid upon
you for a good many years to come. Indeed, you would never have
the sole burden in your childhood and youth, of course. But I should
71. like to feel that you were growing up in the traditions of the place,
knowing what is before you, just as you would know it if you were in
very truth the little niece or granddaughter that I call you."
For a few days after that talk Esther went about with a very grave
face, and was absorbed in a multitude of new thoughts. But children
quickly grow used to an idea, and so it was here. The little girl never
spoke of it to anybody but Mr. Trelawny and her mother, but she
began to have an understanding of the new charge which would one
day in all probability be hers; and she followed Mr. Trelawny about
more assiduously than ever, waiting upon him, watching him, trying
to forestall all his wants and to understand all that he was doing;
whilst he, on his part, took her more and more into his confidence,
both feeling that a new and very tender bond had been established
between them.
The coming Christmas festivities kept the boys fully engrossed.
They had leave to go into Penzance with Mr. Earle to make their
purchases, and they were full of mystery and excitement for days
before and after.
At last they could bear the burden of their great secret no longer,
and pulling Esther into their room one day, a little before Christmas
Day, they whispered the tremendous secret.
"Esther, we've got it; we got it all by ourselves. Nobody knows—not
even Mr. Earle. Would you like to see it? It is such a funny thing; but
we know what it must be, and we've bought it. It was very expensive,
but we don't care if only he likes it. Would you like to see it first?"
"What is it?" asked Esther, infected by the air of mystery around
her. The boys' room was almost dark, for the light was fading fast.
Puck was quivering all over in his excitement. He seemed able to
contain himself no longer, and burst suddenly into speech.
"It's an electric eye—an electric eye for Mr. Trelawny. We found it
at last in a bicycle shop. Come here, Esther, and look. You know
people do have such accidents on bicycles. I expect they knock out
their eyes and have electric ones put in. It's rather big, but Mr.
Trelawny has such big holes for his. I expect it'll go in.—Pickle, open
the door and we'll show her."
72. Pickle was fumbling under the carpet for a key, which was hidden
in some crevice in the boards and when that was brought to light a
cupboard was unlocked, and then suddenly one of the boys did
something, and immediately a bright ray of white light shone forth
from a small glass ball which had somewhat the look of an eye.
"There, there, look!" cried Puck, dancing up and down in his
excitement; "there it is—an electric eye! Do you think he'll like it?
Don't you think he'll be pleased? Just see what a light it gives! He'd
be able to see with that in the dark as well as in the light."
Esther was immensely impressed, though rather perplexed. The
eye was certainly very wonderful, and could be turned on and off at
will; but whether it would help Mr. Trelawny in his present condition
she did not feel quite certain, but the boys had no manner of doubt.
"Won't it be jolly when he can go about without that horrid old
shade, and without a stick, or anybody to lead him? I can't think why
he didn't have one before, but I suppose he couldn't find one. We
hunted all over, and people only laughed when we asked. But one
man told us he'd seen something like one in the bicycle shop, and
sure enough there it was. Sometimes it gets empty and has to be
filled up, but Mr. Earle could do that, I'm sure. He can do lots of
things with electricity. I can't think why he hasn't made Uncle Bob an
electric eye all this time, but I'm glad he hasn't, because we shall so
like to give it him."
It was hard work waiting for Christmas Eve, when the presentation
was to be made; but the preparations for the great feast took up
much time and attention, and drew off the boys' thoughts from the
engrossing subject of the electric eye.
But when the dusk of Christmas Eve had really come, and when
Mr. Trelawny suddenly appeared in their midst, showering parcels
about him in the twilight, like a miniature snowstorm, then the boys
made a rush upon him, and the electric eye was produced and
exhibited, Pickle being the principal speaker, though Puck kept up a
running, breathless commentary, almost choking in his excitement
and ecstatic hopes.
Mr. Trelawny received the gift, and felt it all over. Then he turned
his head towards Mr. Earle, and said,—
73. "Come, Earle; we must retire and see what we can do with this
wonderful eye. You're a bit of a genius, according to these young
men, and we'll see whether you understand adjusting it or not."
Mr. Earle's face lighted up, and he marched off with Mr. Trelawny,
whilst the servants brought in lamps, and the children, in breathless
delight, opened the parcels which had been showered upon them.
The fairies must surely have whispered in Mr. Trelawny's ears, for
the secret desire of every heart seemed to be gratified.
There were the daintiest of working and writing materials for
Esther, together with just the very books she would have chosen for
herself had the whole world's library been at her disposal. There
were model boats for the boys, and tools, and knives, and charts, and
books; and the children had little presents for one another, which
had to be opened and explained and admired; and Mrs. St. Aiden
had not forgotten, or been forgotten, and her couch was the center of
the busy, happy group.
Then suddenly the door was thrown open and in stalked Mr.
Trelawny, without his shade, and walking erect, with his eyes looking
just as they did of old, save that they were protected by a pair of
spectacles with thick glasses.
The children did not know that there had been any previous
rehearsal of such a scene as this, and that Mr. Trelawny had been
permitted to try to use his eyes by degrees for the last week or more.
Even Esther did not know this—it was to be kept for a Christmas
surprise; and now, with the glint of the light upon the spectacles, it
was small wonder that Puck broke into a shout of triumph, and
yelled at the top of his voice,—
"The electric eye; the electric eye! Three cheers for Uncle Bob and
Mr. Earle and the electric eye!"
Esther had run forward and was grasping the hand of her kind old
friend. Her eyes were brimming over with tears of joy.
"O Uncle Robert, can you really see?"
"Yes, my little maid; I can see everything clearly again, thank God!
Let me have a good look at the face of my little woman, for once I
thought I should never see it again."
74. It was hard to say who was happiest that night—Mr. Trelawny with
his newly-restored gift, which, if somewhat impaired, would still be
strong and serviceable again; or the boys, in their conviction that
they had found the means whereby this result had been achieved; or
Mrs. St. Aiden, who had found a safe shelter for herself and her child
under the care of this kind and wealthy kinsman; or little Esther,
who somehow felt that, though another charge had been given her,
yet the burden which had rested rather heavily upon her since her
father's death had somehow been wonderfully lightened. There was
Uncle Robert now to care for them and think for them, and she was
so glad it should be so. And she somehow felt almost certain that the
Crag would always be their home now.
She was more sure of it upon the night of the feast, when Mr.
Trelawny took her by the hand and led her into the big hall that was
filled from end to end with people she knew, crowded together at the
long tables. She did not understand all the speech that Mr. Trelawny
made, for he spoke it in the broad dialect of the country and fisher
folk. But they understood, and they shouted and cheered; and then
Mr. Trelawny put his hand upon her head, and said,—
"You must make them a little bow, my dear, and I will make a
speech for you. Don't you understand that they are paying homage to
you? They are accepting you as my little grand-daughter, who will
one day rule here in my stead, and they are promising to love and be
loyal to you, as I hope you will be loyal and true to them."
And then Mr. Trelawny stooped and lifted her up in his arms and
kissed her before them all; and Esther, as she ran away, overcome
with all the honor and notice she was receiving, felt as though such a
wonderful Christmas-tide could never come again.
THE END.
75. A. L. BURT'S PUBLICATIONS
For Young People
BY POPULAR WRITERS,
97-99-101 Reade Street, New York.
Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. By G.
A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
The adventures of the son of a Scotch officer in French service. The
boy, brought up by a Glasgow bailie, is arrested for aiding a Jacobite
agent, escapes, is wrecked on the French coast, reaches Paris, and
serves with the French army at Dettingen. He kills his father's foe in
a duel, and escaping to the coast, shares the adventures of Prince
Charlie, but finally settles happily in Scotland.
"Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of 'Quentin Durward.' The
lad's journey across France, and his hairbreadth escapes, make up
as good a narrative of the kind as we have ever read. For freshness
of treatment and variety of incident Mr. Henty has surpassed
himself."—Spectator.
With Clive in India; or, the Beginnings of an Empire. By G. A.
Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
76. The period between the landing of Clive as a young writer in India
and the close of his career was critical and eventful in the extreme. At
its commencement the English were traders existing on sufferance of
the native princes. At its close they were masters of Bengal and of the
greater part of Southern India. The author has given a full and
accurate account of the events of that stirring time, and battles and
sieges follow each other in rapid succession, while he combines with
his narrative a tale of daring and adventure, which gives a lifelike
interest to the volume.
"He has taken a period of Indian history of the most vital
importance, and he has embroidered on the historical facts a story
which of itself is deeply interesting. Young people assuredly will
be delighted with the volume."—Scotsman.
The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus and the
Wars of Religion. By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by
John Schönberg. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
In this story Mr. Henty gives the history of the first part of the
Thirty Years' War. The issue had its importance, which has extended
to the present day, as it established religious freedom in Germany.
The army of the chivalrous king of Sweden was largely composed of
Scotchmen, and among these was the hero of the story.
"The tale is a clever and instructive piece of history, and as boys
may be trusted to read it conscientiously, they can hardly fail to be
profited."—Times.
The Dragon and the Raven; or, The Days of King Alfred. By G.
A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by C. J. Staniland, R.I. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle
between Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England, and presents a
vivid picture of the misery and ruin to which the country was
reduced by the ravages of the sea-wolves. The hero, a young Saxon
thane, takes part in all the battles fought by King Alfred. He is driven
from his home, takes to the sea and resists the Danes on their own
77. element, and being pursued by them up the Seine, is present at the
long and desperate siege of Paris.
"Treated in a manner most attractive to the boyish reader."—
Athenæum.
The Young Carthaginian: A Story of the Times of Hannibal. By
G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by C. J. Staniland, R.I.
12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
Boys reading the history of the Punic Wars have seldom a keen
appreciation of the merits of the contest. That it was at first a
struggle for empire, and afterward for existence on the part of
Carthage, that Hannibal was a great and skillful general, that he
defeated the Romans at Trebia, Lake Trasimenus, and Cannæ, and
all but took Rome, represents pretty nearly the sum total of their
knowledge. To let them know more about this momentous struggle
for the empire of the world Mr. Henty has written this story, which
not only gives in graphic style a brilliant description of a most
interesting period of history, but is a tale of exciting adventure sure
to secure the interest of the reader.
"Well constructed and vividly told. From first to last nothing stays
the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream
whose current varies in direction, but never loses its force."—
Saturday Review.
In Freedom's Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce. By G. A.
Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
In this story the author relates the stirring tale of the Scottish War
of Independence. The extraordinary valor and personal prowess of
Wallace and Bruce rival the deeds of the mythical heroes of chivalry,
and indeed at one time Wallace was ranked with these legendary
personages. The researches of modern historians have shown,
however, that he was a living, breathing man—and a valiant
champion. The hero of the tale fought under both Wallace and Bruce,
and while the strictest historical accuracy has been maintained with
78. respect to public events, the work is full of "hairbreadth 'scapes" and
wild adventure.
"It is written in the author's best style. Full of the wildest and most
remarkable achievements, it is a tale of great interest, which a boy,
once he has begun it, will not willingly put on one side."—The
Schoolmaster.
With Lee in Virginia: A Story of the American Civil War. By G.
A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
The story of a young Virginian planter, who, after bravely proving
his sympathy with the slaves of brutal masters, serves with no less
courage and enthusiasm under Lee and Jackson through the most
exciting events of the struggle. He has many hairbreadth escapes, is
several times wounded and twice taken prisoner; but his courage and
readiness and, in two cases, the devotion of a black servant and of a
runaway slave whom he had assisted, bring him safely through all
difficulties.
"One of the best stories for lads which Mr. Henty has yet written.
The picture is full of life and color, and the stirring and romantic
incidents are skillfully blended with the personal interest and
charm of the story."—Standard.
By England's Aid; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-
1604). By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Alfred
Pearse, and Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.
The story of two English lads who go to Holland as pages in the
service of one of "the fighting Veres." After many adventures by sea
and land, one of the lads finds himself on board a Spanish ship at the
time of the defeat of the Armada, and escapes only to fall into the
hands of the Corsairs. He is successful in getting back to Spain under
the protection of a wealthy merchant, and regains his native country
after the capture of Cadiz.
"It is an admirable book for youngsters. It overflows with stirring
incident and exciting adventure, and the color of the era and of the
scene are finely reproduced. The illustrations add to its
attractiveness."—Boston Gazette.
79. By Right of Conquest; or, With Cortez in Mexico. By G. A.
Henty. With full-page Illustrations by W. S. Stacey, and Two Maps.
12mo, cloth, price $1.50.
The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under the
magnificent leadership of Cortez is always rightly ranked among the
most romantic and daring exploits in history. With this as the
groundwork of his story Mr. Henty has interwoven the adventures of
an English youth, Roger Hawkshaw, the sole survivor of the good
ship Swan, which had sailed from a Devon port to challenge the
mercantile supremacy of the Spaniards in the New World. He is
beset by many perils among the natives, but is saved by his own
judgment and strength, and by the devotion of an Aztec princess. At
last by a ruse he obtains the protection of the Spaniards, and after
the fall of Mexico he succeeds in regaining his native shore, with a
fortune and a charming Aztec bride.
"'By Right of Conquest' is the nearest approach to a perfectly
successful historical tale that Mr. Henty has yet published."—
Academy.
In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy.
By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by J. Schönberg. 12mo,
cloth, price $1.00.
Harry Sandwith, a Westminster boy, becomes a resident at the
chateau of a French marquis, and after various adventures
accompanies the family to Paris at the crisis of the Revolution.
Imprisonment and death reduce their number, and the hero finds
himself beset by perils with the three young daughters of the house
in his charge. After hairbreadth escapes they reach Nantes. There the
girls are condemned to death in the coffin-ships, but are saved by the
unfailing courage of their boy protector.
"Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat
Mr. Henty's record. His adventures will delight boys by the
audacity and peril they depict.... The story is one of Mr. Henty's
best."—Saturday Review.
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