Читать книгу Goblin Island - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 4

Table of Contents

“Drop that, Cigarette!” cried Boy Blue.

“Oh, dear! He has got Malcolm’s pipe again!” sighed Sheila, and joined in the chase.

“Cigarette, put it down! Jack, come and help! Oh, he iss a ferry troublesome dog iss Cigarette!” said Jill, and ran to the door so that he should not escape.

“Malcolm shouldn’t have left it there. He knows Cigarette always goes for it,” Jack panted, as he wrenched the pipe out of the culprit’s teeth.

“I neffer, neffer did know a dog who was so ferry fond of a pipe before. No, inteet!”

“Jill,” said Peggy quietly, from the doorway, “if you talk that Highland talk we will have to send you away to school, and you would not like it.”

“Oh, I won’t do it any more! Really and truly, Peggy darling. But everybody does it, Peggy, and it iss so hard to remember! Seall a mach, Jack! He’s after it again!”

“And the Gaelic is just as bad,” Peggy said severely, as Jack pocketed the pipe. “You must try to speak like an English girl.”

“But I’m not an English girl. I’m a Highland girl, and I like the Highland talk effer so much better than the English, and it iss a ferry pretty way to speak, whateffer! Well, I will try not to, Peggy,” she cried hurriedly, as Peggy looked at her with distress in her eyes.

“If you vex Peggy, Jill, I’ll thrash you,” said Jack.

Sheila laughed, and took up her book again. She had heard it all before.

“What did Malcolm bring Mr. Sinclair here for, Peggy?” asked Jack.

Crash! bang! Boy Blue had found the tea-tray and was drumming on it with a spoon. Peggy put her hands over her ears. Jack and Jill turned angrily on the noisy one. Sheila quietly took the tray from him and placed it beyond his reach. He immediately began to hammer on the table, and had to be deprived of the spoon also before quietness was restored.

“I came here to tell you what brought Malcolm home so soon after the beginning of the term,” said Peggy. “If you will all be quiet, and not make noises in the middle, I will tell you all about it.”

“Put Cigarette and Boy Blue out into the garden. Then there’ll be some peace,” said Jack.

“No, Robin must stay, for I have something important to say, and it concerns us all.”

“And here’s Malcolm. If he’ll smoke, Cigarette will be quiet.”

“Out of that chair at once, Jill. Now, Peggy, sit down!” and Malcolm settled the cushions of the arm-chair for Peggy.

Jill perched on the table beside Jack. Sheila drew Boy Blue down in the corner of the sofa. Peggy in the big chair was on one side of the hearth, and Malcolm sat opposite on the arm of the couch. He lit his pipe, and the fox-terrier, Cigarette, who had been smelling about in the corners for it, stopped suddenly and gazed at him. Then he sat down in the middle of the hearthrug, and watched Malcolm without moving for the next half-hour. The clouds of smoke fascinated him, and always quieted him at once.

“Fire away, Peg!”

“I want to explain something, so you will please all listen in earnest,” Peggy said seriously. “When father died, he left all his money in charge of his lawyer, old Mr. Macpherson, who was trustee for us. To-day Mr. Sinclair came to tell me of a dreadful thing that has happened. Old Mr. Macpherson has died suddenly, and left all his affairs in great disorder. They don’t know yet whether there will be enough money to pay off all he owes. He had been speculating, they say, and it depends on how some shares turn out. It may be all right in time, but it may not, and until we know how it turns out we don’t know what we have to live upon. Now we can’t live without money, can we?”

“Do we need so ferry—so very—much? I should think we could do without effer—ever—so many things we have just now.”

“We can do without some, but there are things we must have.”

“Must have porridge—and potatoes—and—and puddings,” said Boy Blue, with round, serious eyes.

“And pinafores. And pillows,” Sheila said, laughing.

“And boots,” smiled Peggy. “Now, Malcolm and Mr. Sinclair and I have been talking it over, and this is what we think. We don’t need to live in so big a house as this. Here we must have two servants to do the work, besides Mother Hubbard. In a wee house I could do the work and Mother Hubbard could cook. We are going to leave this big house and live in a wee one and do without servants. Then Mr. Sinclair will find some one who would like to live in this one, and the money they pay us for rent will buy our food and clothes and boots.”

“What fun!” cried Sheila. “Peggy, may I help with the work?”

“I will want you all to help, and you will all have to be very good, for in a wee house, if you quarrel, think how horrid it will be!”

“In the summer-time, Peggy, it will be all right,” said Jill. “But think of living in a cottage in the winter! That wouldn’t be ferry nice, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps we could put up with it. But you see we hope things will be better by the winter, and we will only let this house for the summer.”

“That’s all right. It’s a good plan,” said Jack; “but won’t it give you a lot of bother moving all our things, Peggy?”

“What wee house will we go to?” asked Boy Blue, and the others saw at once what an important matter that was.

“Have you thought about it yet, Peggy? It will make a ferry great difference what house it is.”

“What would you say”—Peggy’s eyes twinkled as she glanced at their eager faces—“to the cottage on Innis Beg?”

“Peggy! Do you mean it really? You aren’t joking? Oh, how splendid! How jolly! Won’t we have a good time! Think of living on an island!”

“But how will we get to church and the village?” cried Sheila, almost as much excited as Jack and Jill.

“Jack will row us in the wee boat.”

“What fun!”

“It will be just splendid! An island iss the ferry nicest place in the world to live, I’m sure. But it iss ferry near to Goblin Island,” Jill added thoughtfully.

Robin and Sheila looked serious, but Jack laughed.

“The Goblin never goes near Innis Beg. There’s no need to be afraid of him.”

“Don’t be a goose, Jill,” said Malcolm.

“You see, Innis Beg belongs to us, so we will not need to pay any rent for living in the cottage,” Peggy explained.

“We’ll go over after tea and see what kind of a state it’s in,” said Malcolm. “Peggy, I really think you’ll have to make room for me somehow. How can I go off to Glasgow and leave you children alone on that island? Suppose something happened to you?”

“What would happen? Nothing that might not happen if we were living here in our own house. Mother Hubbard will take care of us. So will Jack.”

“Suppose you wanted help suddenly? Suppose the Goblin came over from Innis Torr and attacked you?” Malcolm laughed. “Or suppose Jill set the cottage on fire?”

“Issn’t it likely?” said Jill contemptuously.

“Jack would row ashore for help. The island isn’t so very far away. There will be people living here, and they would help us. As for the Goblin, nobody believes in that nonsense now but old women and babies,” at which Jill raised her eyebrows doubtfully. “We’ll be all right, Malcolm, and really there will be no room for you. I have been thinking about it, and we can only just squeeze in. Besides, your fees at college are paid. But Jack and Jill must promise to be very good indeed.”

“We are always ferry good!”

“Of course they must. No mischief, mind, Jack. I shall run down unexpectedly now and then to see how you are behaving.”

“And if they are bad,” Peggy said seriously, “I shall telegraph to you, and you will come and send them both to a boarding-school.”

“Certainly.” Malcolm looked severely at the wild ones, who gazed back at him with expressions of injured innocence.

“We are always ferry good, and most of all when Malcolm iss not here.”

“Jill, I do wish you would remember to talk English,” Peggy sighed.

“But it iss so ferry easy to forget! And everybody here says ‘ferry,’ so that makes me do it too. I will try, really, Peggy.”

“Please do. To please me, Jill. Now suppose we have tea. Then afterwards we will row over to Innis Beg and look at the cottage.”

Malcolm knocked the ashes out of his pipe and laid it on the mantel-piece.

“I expect there will be some repairs needed, so the sooner we see to it the better.”

The disappearance of the fascinating smoke-clouds broke the spell which had held Cigarette. He jumped on to the arm of the sofa, and put his paws on the mantel-piece.

“Look out for your pipe, Malcolm,” cried Jill.

Malcolm seized the dog by the stump of his tail, and held him up in the air, and Cigarette, who was used to this kind of rebuke, did not utter a yelp, but held himself stiff, with outstretched paws, till he was dropped on the rug. Then he sprang on to the sofa again, and Malcolm laughed and pocketed his pipe.

“I shall have to give you a pipe of your own, old boy. I never knew a dog so fond of smoke.”

“He’ll make friends with any one who smokes,” said Jill, as they went in to tea.

Of course they could talk of nothing but the new plan. It was such a delightful idea. To live on a real island, and go shopping and visiting by boat! And think of going in a boat on Sundays! That, of course, had been strictly forbidden before, but now it would be necessary.

“We will take one of the cows, and some cocks and hens and ducks,” said Peggy thoughtfully. “Then we will always have milk and eggs. But we will leave the horses and the pony here, for they would be no use on the island.”

“Jack and I will catch fish.”

“And I’ll wash up the dishes every day. That will help, won’t it, Peggy?” Sheila asked anxiously.

“Yes, Red Riding Hood. You can help very much, if you will. And Boy Blue must try to be more careful of his socks and overalls. I never knew a boy make holes so quickly. I shan’t want to spend money on new clothes, you know, Robin, so please be careful. And I hope Jack and Jill won’t climb trees and tear their things, for, if they do, they’ll just have to wear them patched. Malcolm, I do wish I hadn’t spent so much money on a new dress just a month ago! I could have done without it quite well. But we didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“My dear girl, if the money had been left in the bank, it would just have gone with the rest. Is it that pretty blue thing you showed me the last time I was here?”

“Yes. I’ve only worn it once because there has been so much rain.”

“Then I’m glad you got it before this happened, for I must say, though I don’t approve of telling my sisters they’re pretty”—Jill jumped up to curtsey—“that dress suits you, and you really look awfully nice in it, Peg.”

“Hear, hear!” cried Jack.

Peggy laughed and blushed.

“Then I’m very glad to have it, for I know it is a very pretty dress.”

“Oh, Peggy!” said Jill.

“What is it?” asked Peggy startled.

“And you scold me! Do you know what you said?”

“No?” and Peggy looked alarmed.

“You said—just like this—‘I’m ferry glad to haf it, for I know it iss a ferry pretty tress!’ You talk as much like a Highlander as Mother Hubbard herself sometimes. Ton’t you effer scold me again!”

Peggy laughed and reddened.

“I don’t really, do I, Malcolm?”

“Never you mind, Peg. It suits your voice. If ever you talk just like an English girl it will be a great pity.”

“What’s become of Mr. Sinclair, Peggy?” asked Jack.

“He’s away back to Glasgow. He had to see some one to-night, so he couldn’t wait.”

“Now,” said Malcolm, “who’s coming to Innis Beg?”

Peggy went to fetch her hat. Jack ran for his bonnet, and Jill for her tam-o’-shanter. Boy Blue rushed into the passage, crying, “Sheila! Sheila! Get my hat, quick!”

Mother Hubbard came out of the kitchen to remonstrate.

“You shoult run for it yourself, Robin. It iss a lazy boy that you are. Sheila she hass to do efferything for you, and she iss a good wee lassie to do it. You are shust a baby. I will tell the witches to come and fetch you.”

“There aren’t any witches, so there, Mother Hubbard!” said Boy Blue valiantly.

“Oh, yess, there are! Or I will call the brownie to run off with you.”

“There isn’t any brownie either.”

“Oh, issn’t there? When I came down this morning, there wass a creat pile of wood chopped reaty for the fire. Who woult do that but the brownie? Tell me that, Boy Blue?”

“Was there really?” asked Boy Blue, in an awed tone.

“Yess, there wass so. Of course there iss a brownie, and he will run away with you some day.”

“I’m quite sure he won’t. Come on, Sheila! What a long time you are!”

“The next time you come into the kitchen there will be nothing for you in my cupboard, Boy Blue,” said Mother Hubbard severely.

“Pooh! You’ll forget! Here you are at last, Sheila!”

Sheila came downstairs in her scarlet cloak and hood, and handed him his big straw hat.

“Come along, Boy Blue! Where are you, Red Riding Hood?” called Peggy from the door, and they ran off.

The house, Strongarra, stood on a grassy point running out into the lake, and Lios village lay on the shore of the bay behind. The garden of Strongarra took in the whole strip of land on which the house stood, and out in the lake, opposite the point and not far away, lay the island, Innis Beg.

Malcolm and Peggy followed their family across the lawn to the strip of shingly beach, where lay two boats. They were small and light, to suit the strength of Jack and Jill, and could not safely carry too many passengers at a time.

Malcolm launched one, and helped in Jill and Sheila. Jack, Peggy, and Boy Blue took the other. The family always divided thus, when they all went boating together, so that Jack and Jill should be separated.

Boy Blue was sober and puzzled, and lost no time in taking his trouble to Peggy.

“Peggy, Mother Hubbard says there’s a brownie does work for her in the kitchen.”

“But there isn’t one really, you know, Robin. She only imagines it.”

“But, Peggy, she says he chopped a pile of wood for the fire this morning! She didn’t do it herself, and some one must have done it.”

Peggy looked at Jack, who paid sudden attention to his oar.

“Jack, you’re a bad boy! If you help Mother Hubbard, you should tell her. Why do you make her believe in brownies and such nonsense?”

“It’s fun to hear her talk afterwards. If you tell tales, Boy Blue, I’ll spank you.”

“No wonder Jill believes in witches and goblins if you play such tricks. You’re a bad boy to tease them.”

“Malcolm’s racing! It isn’t fair! He knows he’ll win,” Jack cried.

Of course Malcolm’s boat reached the island first, and his passengers were ashore before Jack’s boat arrived.

The island was long and narrow, and covered with trees—towering firs and larches, feathery birches and rowans. The ground was thickly carpeted with grass and heather and fresh, green bracken. Looked at from the water there seemed no possible dwelling-place on Innis Beg. But the children knew the island well. It was a favourite place for picnics. That was why the thought of living there was so delightful. Malcolm rowed straight to a tiny bay, and they stepped ashore and pushed through the trees and bushes.

In among the trees was a clearing, and here stood the cottage. It was a tiny one-storied house, fortunately roofed with slates, not thatch. Once it had been white, but was now stained and weather-beaten. In front and behind were strips of garden, filled with tangled bushes and overgrown with weeds. At the side were out-houses—a wash-house, a tiny byre, a shed and kennel and hen-house. The whole place was untidy and dilapidated, and at present looked very uninviting. But that was only because it had been unoccupied for months. Peggy, looking at it as a future residence, grasped its possibilities at once.

“We’ll have the house whitewashed, and the garden put in order. Then it will look much better. Now come inside and see what repairs are needed.”

Some broken windows and loose slates proved to be all that was actually necessary. But the whole cottage was dirty and dusty, with cobwebs in the corners and stains on the walls.

After an eager exploration of every corner they gathered in the tiny sitting-room, their spirits somewhat damped by the desolation everywhere.

“It issn’t ferry cheerful,” Jill said doubtfully. “But perhaps it will be better when the furniture iss in.”

“I feel as if I’d be a wee bit afraid to sleep here,” Sheila admitted.

“Pooh! What would you be ’fraid of, Sheila?” asked Boy Blue.

“Brownies?” said Jack slyly.

“No, nor witches, nor the Goblin, nor anything like that. For there iss a rowan tree just by the house. I saw it,” Jill cried eagerly. “Witches can’t go where there iss a rowan tree, so we are quite safe.”

Peggy laughed. “Jill, what nonsense! Don’t be a little goose! Malcolm, if we are to live here, we must have the whole place painted and new paper put on the walls. I won’t live in it all dirty like this. It would be a very pretty wee house if it was all fresh and clean.”

Malcolm pursed his lips. “Money, Peg?”

“You will get some of my money out of the Savings Bank. Yes, you will, and you won’t take any of your own, either, for if we don’t get any more you will need yours to pay your fees at college. You will please get me some of mine as soon as you go back to Glasgow. I couldn’t live in a dirty house.”

“Well, we’ll talk it over. Do you think you can manage to squeeze them all in? It will be a tight fit. Two bedrooms——”

“And the kitchen. It has two beds. Mother Hubbard will sleep there——”

“And me! Oh, do let me, Peggy! I’ve always longed to sleep in a bed in the wall!” cried Jill. “Do say I may, Peggy darling!”

“Poor Mother Hubbard!” said Jack.

Peggy laughed. “I’ll think about it. Malcolm, if you come to stay with us, you’ll have to sleep on the sofa. Now, how much furniture must we bring?”

Jack touched Jill’s arm. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

He led her through the tiny garden to the landing-place. Strongarra lay opposite across the water, and Lios was half hidden among the trees.

“Look!” said Jack.

On the bank above the beach stood a great oak tree. Its trunk was so thick that when Jack and Jill together made a ring of their arms, they could not reach round it. A little way above their heads the great boughs branched out on all sides, and the leaves above were just opening. The bark was gnarled and notched and twisted. Jack put his toe into a hole, and with a spring was up where the branches divided, and Jill followed wondering.

“Now! Don’t you see? This is our watch-tower—our hiding-place—our secret haunt. We can see all that goes on on the island, and at Strongarra too, and if any one lives in our house we’ll watch them. No one shall come up but you and me. Peggy and the little ones can’t climb anyway. We’ll make plans here, and hide things, and watch everybody. What do you say?”

“Fine! I like it. It iss ferry nice up here.”

“You can come up when you’ve been bad and don’t like to face Peggy——”

“Thanks! It iss good of you! You are much more likely to need it yourself.”

“We’ll bring the little ones up sometimes for picnics, if they are good. It will be a way of making Boy Blue behave. We were just needing something to keep him in order. He bullies Sheila dreadfully.”

“If Sheila is to come up when she is good she will be here most of the time,” Jill remarked. “She and Peggy have the goodness of the family. Oh, look! There’s the evening steamer!”

From their perch among the branches they watched the little white steamer coming from Lios pier. It passed the end of the island, its paddles churning the quiet waters of the lake into foam, and headed for Balmona, away on the other side.

“I wonder what kind of people will come to live at Strongarra,” said Jill, her thoughts travelling with the steamer from the loneliness of Loch Avie to the noise and turmoil of the cities not very far away.

“Yes. It will be odd to see strangers there. There hasn’t been a visitor in Lios all winter.”

“Whateffer they are like I am going to hate them,” Jill said decidedly.

“Hello! Made up your mind already?”

“Yes. I shall hate them because they are strangers and living in our house.”

“Oh, I see! But I don’t know that that’s fair, when we’re going to get their money. Better wait till we know what they’re like. There’s Peggy calling! Just look at that hole in your stocking! How like a girl!”

“You needn’t talk. Your kilt iss all green and brown,” said Jill indignantly, as she scrambled down the trunk and tumbled into the boat to hide the hole from Peggy’s observant eyes.

When the boats reached the shore at Strongarra the family separated into its natural divisions. Mother Hubbard carried Boy Blue away to bed, and Sheila went with him. Jack and Jill ran off to look for Cigarette, who had been left behind because there was no room for him in the boats.

“Come for a walk, Peg,” said Malcolm, and they strolled along the shore together.

“The children are very well satisfied anyway,” said Peggy.

“Of course. The thought of living on Innis Beg is joy to them. Not so long ago you and I would have felt the same.”

“I’m glad they aren’t upset about it.”

“Why should they be? They don’t think we are. They see you making plans for the future, and not troubling or grumbling, and of course they think there is nothing to trouble about. I’m awfully sorry it’s happened, Peggy. I know it means heaps of extra work and worry for you. You haven’t said anything, but you must be feeling bad about it. I was afraid you’d cry and make a fuss. I thought girls always did.”

“Then don’t think it any more! What would be the use? It wouldn’t make things any better if I cried, would it?” Peggy said, smiling. “I am dreadfully sorry it has happened too. I wanted Jack and Jill to go to school this summer. Jack is a very big boy to have never been to school, and Jill ought to go, if only to learn to talk properly and not to believe in witches! I don’t want them to grow up savages, but I don’t see what we can do for the next few months.”

“We must wait, and hope for the best. It’s not the children I’m thinking of, but you, Peg. I don’t like the thought of the extra work you’ll have.”

“Oh, but that doesn’t matter! I like being busy. You really mustn’t worry about me, Malcolm. There is no need whatever.”

“Well,” said Malcolm, opening the garden gate for her, “it’s a great help to us all that you take it so bravely, Peg.”

“I suppose the next thing is to find a tenant for the house. Mr. Sinclair thinks there won’t be any difficulty about it, doesn’t he?”

“Houses like this can always be let for the summer. The question is, what kind of people will take it?”

“Yes. It will be a change to have some neighbours besides the farmers and village folk. Sometimes it’s rather lonely, you know. I do wish a nice interesting family would come, with one or two girls about my age. I haven’t a single friend here, and now and again I do want some one to talk to so badly.”

“I’ll ask Mr. Sinclair to arrange it for you,” Malcolm said, laughing.