A Tale of a Lonely Parish Part 20

"Tell me a story, mamma--won't you? Like the ones you used to tell me when I was quite a little girl."

"Dear child," said her mother, who was not thinking of story-telling, "I am afraid I have forgotten all the ones I ever knew. Besides, darling, it is time for you to go to bed."

"I don't want to go to bed, mamma. It is such a horrid night. The wind keeps me awake."

"You will not sleep at all if I tell you a story," objected Mrs. G.o.ddard.

"Mr. Juxon tells me such nice stories," said Nellie, reproachfully.

"What are they about, dear?"

"Oh, his stories are beautiful. They are always about s.h.i.+ps and the blue sea and wonderful desert islands where he has been. What a wonderful man he is, mamma, is not he?"

"Yes, dear, he talks very interestingly." Mrs. G.o.ddard stroked Nellie's brown curls and looked into the fire.

"He told me that once, ever so many years ago--he must be very old, mamma--" Nellie paused and looked up inquiringly.

"Well, darling--not so very, very old. I think he is over forty."

"Over forty--four times eleven--he is not four times as old as I am.

Almost, though. All his stories are ever so many years ago. He said he was sailing away ever so far, in a perfectly new s.h.i.+p, and the name of the s.h.i.+p was--let me see, what was the name? I think it was--"

Mrs. G.o.ddard started suddenly and laid her hand on the child's shoulder.

"Did you hear anything, Nellie?" she asked quickly. Nellie looked up in some surprise.

"No, mamma. When? Just now? It must have been the wind. It is such a horrid night. The name of the s.h.i.+p was the 'Zephyr'--I remember, now."

She looked up again to see if her mother was listening to the story. Mrs.

G.o.ddard looked pale and glanced uneasily towards the closed window. She had probably been mistaken.

"And where did the s.h.i.+p sail to, Nellie dear?" she asked, smoothing the child's curls again and forcing herself to smile.

"Oh--the s.h.i.+p was a perfectly new s.h.i.+p and it was the most beautiful weather in the world. They were sailing away ever so far, towards the straits of Magellan. I was so glad because I knew where the straits of Magellan were--and Mr. Juxon was immensely astonished. But I had been learning about the Terra del Fuego, and the people who were frozen there, in my geography that very morning--was not it lucky? So I knew all about it--mamma, how nervous you are! It is nothing but the wind. I wish you would listen to my story--"

"I am listening, darling," said Mrs. G.o.ddard, making a strong effort to overcome her agitation and drawing the child closer to her. "Go on, sweetheart--you were in the straits of Magellan, you said, sailing away--"

"Mr. Juxon was, mamma," said Nellie correcting her mother with the asperity of a child who does not receive all the attention it expects.

"Of course, dear, Mr. Juxon, and the s.h.i.+p was the 'Zephyr.'"

"Yes--the 'Zephyr,'" repeated Nellie, who was easily pacified. "It was at Christmas time he said--but that is summer in the southern hemisphere,"

she added, proud of her knowledge. "So it was very fine weather. And Mr.

Juxon was walking up and down the deck in the afternoon, smoking a cigar--"

"He never smokes, dear," interrupted Mrs. G.o.ddard, glad to show Nellie that she was listening.

"Well, but he did then, because he said so," returned Nellie unmoved.

"And as he walked and looked out--sailors always look out, you know--he saw the most wonderful thing, close to the s.h.i.+p--the most wonderful thing he ever saw," added Nellie with some redundance of expression.

"Was it a whale, child?" asked her mother, staring into the fire and trying to pay attention.

"A whale, mamma!" repeated Nellie contemptuously. "As if there were anything remarkable about a whale! Mr. Juxon has seen billions of whales, I am sure."

"Well, what was it, dear?"

"It was the most awfully tremendous thing with green and blue scales, a thousand times as big as the s.h.i.+p--oh mamma! What was that?"

Nellie started up from her stool and knelt beside her mother, looking towards the window. Mrs. G.o.ddard was deathly pale and grasped the arm of her chair.

"Somebody knocked at the window, mamma," said Nellie breathlessly. "And then somebody said 'Mary'--quite loud. Oh mamma, what can it be?"

"Mary?" repeated Mrs. G.o.ddard as though she were in a dream.

"Yes--quite loud. Oh mamma! it must be Mary's young man--he does sometimes come in the evening."

"Mary's young man, child?" Mrs. G.o.ddard's heart leaped. Her cook's name was Mary, as well as her own. Nellie naturally never a.s.sociated the name with her mother, as she never heard anybody call her by it.

"Yes mamma. Don't you know? The postman--the man with the piebald horse."

The explanation was necessary, as Mrs. G.o.ddard rarely received any letters and probably did not know the postman by sight.

"At this time of night!" exclaimed Mrs. G.o.ddard. "It is too bad. Mary is gone to bed."

"Perhaps he thinks you are gone to the vicarage and that Mary is sitting up for you in the drawing-room," suggested Nellie with much good sense.

"Well, he can't come in, can he, mamma?"

"Certainly not," said her mother. "But I think you had much better go to bed, my dear. It is half-past nine." She spoke indistinctly, almost thickly, and seemed to be making a violent effort to control herself. But Nellie had settled down upon her stool again, and did not notice her mother.

"Oh not yet," said she. "I have not nearly finished about the sea-serpent. Mr. Juxon said it was not like anything in the world. Do listen, mamma! It is the most wonderful story you ever heard. It was all covered with blue and green scales, and it rolled, and rolled, and rolled, and rolled, till at last it rolled up against the side of the s.h.i.+p with such a tremendous b.u.mp that Mr. Juxon fell right down on his back."

"Yes dear," said Mrs. G.o.ddard mechanically, as the child paused.

"You don't seem to mind at all!" cried Nellie, who felt that her efforts to amuse her mother were not properly appreciated. "He fell right down on his back and hurt himself awfully."

"That was very sad," said Mrs. G.o.ddard. "Did he catch the sea-serpent afterwards ?"

"Catch the sea-serpent! Why mamma, don't you know that n.o.body has ever caught the sea-serpent? Why, hardly anybody has ever seen him, even!"

"Yes dear, but I thought Mr. Juxon--"

"Of course, Mr. Juxon is the most wonderful man--but he could not catch the sea-serpent. Just fancy! When he got up from his fall, he looked and he saw him quite half a mile away. He must have gone awfully fast, should not you think so? Because, you know, it was only a minute."

"Yes, my child; and it is a beautiful story, and you told it so nicely.

It is very interesting and you must tell me another to-morrow. But now, dear, you must really go to bed, because I am going to bed, too. That man startled me so," she said, pa.s.sing her small white hand over her pale forehead and then staring into the fire.

"Well, I don't wonder," answered Nellie in a patronising tone. "Such a dreadful night too! Of course, it would startle anybody. But he won't try again, and you can scold Mary to-morrow and then she can scold her young man."

The child spoke so naturally that all doubts vanished from Mrs. G.o.ddard's mind. She reflected that children are much more apt to see things as they are, than grown people whose nerves are out of order. Nellie's conclusions were perfectly logical, and it seemed folly to doubt them.

She determined that Mary should certainly be scolded on the morrow and she unconsciously resolved in her mind the words she should use; for she was rather a timid woman and stood a little in awe of her stalwart Berks.h.i.+re cook, with her mighty arms and her red face, and her uncommonly plain language.