CHAPTER XII
A SEARCH FOR RENÉ
“He was gone when I woke up,” called Jack, who had been dressing rapidly. He came out of the tent and began looking about the wagon, tent, and surrounding woods in the persistent fashion of people, who, under like circumstances, feel that although search is useless, action of some kind is an immediate necessity.
“What ever shall we do?” whispered Desiré, tears streaming down her cheeks, when Jack returned from a fruitless search of the nearby places.
“Don’t get excited, dear,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “He could have come to no harm, and I’ll find him all right.”
“But you must have help. Oh, I wish we were near the Riboux family!”
“We’ll drive back into the town to make inquiry, and then see what can be done. I know he’s not around here; for I’ve searched everywhere.”
“The—the brook?” faltered Desiré.
“Yes, I rather thought I might find him playing there. He enjoyed it so much last night,” he added, with a feeble effort at a smile, “but there’s no sign of him. Anyway, the water’s not deep enough to drown a dog, much less a hearty youngster.”
“Jack—the Indians—”
“Now, Desiré, don’t let your imagination run away with you. They’re perfectly harmless.”
“What I mean is, could Renny be with them?”
“The camp’s gone. They must have pulled out at daybreak—”
“Well, but he may have followed them,” persisted Desiré. “You know how wild he was to go over there last night.”
“It’s a possibility,” replied Jack, thoughtfully. “Probably you’re right. If so, he is perfectly safe; and I’ll find out in town how to reach them. We’d better eat, and then drive back.”
They roused Priscilla, who began to cry as soon as she heard of her brother’s disappearance, and continued until Jack said gravely—
“Don’t make matters worse, Prissy; you can help by being cheerful. Never cry until you’re sure there is something to cry about. It’s a waste of good energy.”
“Now for town,” he continued, as they at last climbed into the wagon which seemed strangely empty without the little boy. Jack was assuming a forced cheeriness, which he was far from feeling; for in spite of his advice to Desiré, he was consumed with anxiety. He felt relieved, now, at the outcome of the “punishment” last night; if René had minded, they might think he had run away. But perhaps he had been wrong in adopting this kind of a life, with the children. If anything happened to them!
He was interrupted by hearing Desiré say—
“Prissy, you sit in the back of the wagon and keep watch on the road to see if you can discover any traces of René.”
“Jack, dear,” she went on softly, as they drove into Bear River again, “please don’t blame yourself for what has happened. It surely wasn’t your fault, or anybody’s for that matter. He might have wandered off, even if we’d been at home; and I feel sure he is safe with the Indians.”
“You’re a comfort, Dissy,” replied her brother, managing a half smile.
In front of the post office stood the very man who had given them the information concerning the Indians’ pilgrimage, on the preceding day; and, pulling up, Jack told him in a few words what had happened.
“Now that’s too bad,” replied the man with genuine concern, resting one foot on the wheel hub; “if I was you—”
“Is it far to the Island of the Holy Family?” interrupted Desiré.
“Oh, yes; and come to think on’t, I don’t suppose that band was goin’ there anyhow; they’d not get there in time. They’re probably on their way back to the reservation.”
“Then where could we look for them?” questioned Jack, his heart sinking at the destruction of their hopes.
“If I was you, I’d keep right along this road toward Annapolis Royal, and perhaps you’ll catch up with them. They don’t travel fast, and you could ask in every town if they’d been through. There’s no real cause for you to worry, friends, for the little chap will be well treated. The Indians like little folks.”
Jack looked at Desiré.
“It’s good advice, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied doubtfully, turning the team around, and thanking the man for his help.
“Good luck to you,” he called, as they started off; and Priscilla, leaning out of the back of the wagon, waved a goodbye.
All day long they drove, almost in silence, stopping only for a hurried lunch. Toward evening, when the hills had turned to red purple, they drove across a quaint covered bridge—that is, one which has a roof and solid sides of wood, like a house—over a stream whose sparkling, merry water was as yellow as gold from the reflection of the setting sun.
“I’m awfully hungry,” sighed Priscilla.
“I was just going to propose that we stop under these oaks for supper,” said Desiré. “We can’t live without eating.”
CHAPTER XIII
INDIANS AND STRAWBERRIES
“Should you mind driving all night?” asked Jack, as they prepared to start on after the meal and a short rest.
“Not a bit, if you will take turns driving,” replied Desiré promptly. “Priscilla can stretch out on the blankets, and you and I alternate at the reins.”
“The Indians have such a start on us,” went on Jack. “You see in the first place they left earlier; and then we lost all the time of our search, and going to Bear River and back; and it’s important to catch up as soon as possible, lest they should leave the road somewhere and take a crosscut to the reservation.”
“Of course,” assented Desiré.
Darkness fell; the stars came out; and the full moon gave them light enough to follow the winding road. Several times during the night Desiré persuaded Jack to let her guide Dolly and Dapple while he rested and dozed in the corner of the seat.
On past dark farmhouses whose occupants were sound asleep; past somber, solemn woods, so beautiful in the daylight, but so dense, mysterious, almost terrifying at night; across murmuring black streams; up long hills which made the tired horses breathe heavily, and down the other side where one had to hold a tight rein to keep the faithful animals from stumbling. Occasionally a bat swooped low enough to make Desiré duck her head with fright, and once, while Jack was napping, she caught sight of a huge dark bulk near the edge of a woods; but it disappeared before the snorting horses could be urged onward.
At last the moonlight darkness faded to grey; then to a lighter grey; the sky was slashed with faint rose, growing rapidly deeper and mingling with gold streaks, until the sun climbed up to survey the land; and another day had come.
“Look, Jack!” cried Desiré, elbowing her sleeping brother.
“Where?” he asked, yawning.
“In that hollow!”
They were on the crest of a hill, from which they could look down into a nearby valley.
“Tents!” exclaimed the boy, now fully aroused.
“Indians!” shouted Priscilla, who, wakened by their voices, had crept up to look over their shoulders.
“Prissy! How you scared me!” cried her sister, jumping violently.
Jack took the reins, and, as fast as the team could travel, headed for the encampment. They reached their objective just as the Indians were beginning to break camp. Everything was in confusion; braves striding here and there; squaws shouldering the big bundles; children crying; dogs barking. Running back and forth from one group to another, they spied René.
Throwing the reins to Desiré, Jack jumped down and approached an Indian who seemed to be directing affairs. With some difficulty, he made the red man understand his story. Partly by signs, partly by broken English, the chief replied that “two suns ago they had found strange white child among them. Where belong, they not know. Going on to reservation. Then send back young brave who know English to find boy’s people.”
At that moment, René caught sight of his brother, ran across the grass, and threw himself into Jack’s arms, crying:
“I found Indians, Jack! I found Indians! Ain’t they fine?”
“Yes, I see you did, and they are fine,” replied the boy gravely, handing him over to Desiré, who had left the team and hurried toward them. “Put him in the wagon, and bring me all the candy we have.”
In a moment the girl was back again with several jars of candy. Jack distributed the gaily colored sticks to all the little Indian children, and tried to make the chief understand his gratitude for the care taken of René.
The tribe then struck out through the woods, away from the main road.
“How lucky that we caught up to them right here,” said Desiré, watching them, while René waved his hand and shouted goodbyes.
“You’re a bad, bad boy,” declared Priscilla, “to run away like that and frighten us all!”
René gave her a look which was a compound of disgust and astonishment.
“They were nice to me, and I had a good time. I bet you wish you’d been along. When you ran away, you didn’t go with nice Indians, but a smelly old cat who—”
“Never mind, children,” interrupted Jack, as he started the horses and they drove up a slight elevation to a juniper grove.
“We’ll stay here for a while to let the team rest, and incidentally get some ourselves,” he decreed, turning in the shade.
While he made Dolly and Dapple comfortable, Desiré had been trying to make René understand how much trouble he had caused. “You were very naughty,” she was saying, as Jack joined them.
“Yes,” agreed the older boy, “and he’ll have to be punished to make him remember it.”
Jack’s tone made Desiré give him an entreating look; but he pretended not to see.
“Come with me, René,” he said quietly, breaking a small switch from a nearby tree, and leading the child farther into the grove.
A short silence, then a little boy’s cries could be heard; another silence, during which Desiré worked madly at anything she could think of to keep her mind off of what was going on within the woods. Although she recognized the need of drastic punishment in this instance, yet she hated to have the baby hurt. After what seemed like hours, really not more than five or ten minutes, the brothers emerged from among the trees, hand in hand.
“I’m never, never going to run away again, Dissy,” promised the little boy, grasping her around the neck as she stooped to put her arms around him.
“Angry?” asked Jack softly, as the child released himself and ran off to join Priscilla who was playing quietly with a turtle she had discovered.
“Of course not,” replied Desiré quickly. “How could you think such a thing?”
“I hated to do it, especially since I knew it hurt you so much; but he really needed a lesson. We couldn’t risk that sort of thing happening again; it might not turn out so pleasantly another time.”
“I know you do your best for all of us, dear,” she said, laying her head against his arm for a moment; “and don’t worry so much about what we may or may not think about what you do.”
On blankets laid on the ground, Jack and Desiré slept much of the afternoon, while the children played all kinds of games with the turtle.
All the morning the young Wistmores had been driving along roads bordered on either side by hundreds of apple trees. In the valley between the North Mountain on the Bay of Fundy side, and the South Mountain, there are seventy-five miles of orchards where are grown some of the choicest varieties of apples, many barrels of which are shipped to the United States every year.
“This is the most celebrated apple district in the world,” commented Jack.
“How gorgeous the trees must look when they are covered with blossoms,” Desiré remarked. “I think apple trees in bloom are among the most beautiful things in the world.”
“The whole section is famous,” continued Jack. “The first ships built on the American continent were launched down here on the Annapolis River; and on Allen’s Creek, which flows along one side of the fort, the first mill was put up. That was in the days of Champlain.”
They reached Annapolis Royal by this time, and Jack drove up the hills to see the remains of the fort, and point out the items of interest to the members of his family.
“Champlain sailed up the Bay of Fundy,” he said, motioning toward that body of water, “and when he saw the little inlet down there, entered by means of it, into that broad calm body of water called Annapolis Basin. The tree-covered sides of the hills which you see sloping gently to the water’s edge were dotted with lively waterfalls, and he thought it a fine place for a settlement.
“In those days,” he continued, turning toward René, “Great Beaver, who was an enemy of Glooscap, lived in Annapolis Basin with his best friend, a wolf. Now the wolf liked to sail, and Great Beaver made a big raft for him so he could go back and forth across the water. One day Mr. Wolf was lying on the top of North Mountain, resting after his sail, and he saw the Bay of Fundy. Right down to the Great Beaver he rushed, and asked him to dig a canal between the two bodies of water in order that he might have more room for his raft. Great Beaver didn’t like salt water; so he refused to spoil his own home by letting in the tide from Fundy. Clever Mr. Wolf, who knew that Glooscap and the Beaver were not good friends, went secretly to Glooscap and asked him to join the two pieces of water. Glooscap sent the lightning to split open the North Mountain, and through the narrow opening Mr. Wolf sailed gaily back and forth between the Bay of Fundy and Annapolis Basin.”
“And what became of the poor Beaver?” asked Priscilla.
“Oh, he had to go and build a new home in the Basin of Minas.”
“Poor Beaver,” commented René, adding, “Jack, where is Glooscap now?”
“He became angry at the number of white men coming to take possession of the land; so he called a big whale to carry him away to some far-off shore. The Indians think, though, that some day he will come back.”
“Oh, I wish he would,” cried the little boy; “I wish he would right now, so’s I could see him.”
Going down the hill, they reached the shores of the Basin in time to see the tide come in. Great masses of blue, green and silver water rushed in the Gap to fill to overflowing the Basin and all its tributary streams.
“What a wonderful sight!” exclaimed Desiré.
“I should think the Wolf would have been drowned,” observed René, watching the flood of water, his eyes open very wide.
“Why, he’d go up on the mountain and watch it, not stay in it,” said Priscilla in such a scornful tone that Jack and Desiré smiled.
Several days later, they had passed through many little towns and stopped in front of many an isolated house where they disposed of many or few of their wares. The dooryards were gay with flowers, now; for no one was too poor or too lazy to have a garden. Sometimes these gardens were elaborate in shape, and of fair size, with colors and varieties blended beautifully; sometimes only a clump of cheerful red or golden nasturtiums, clustering around a stump or unsightly rock.
“Just look at that field!” exclaimed Desiré, suddenly.
“What’s the matter with it?” inquired Jack.
“It’s just red with strawberries!”
“Oh, let’s get out and pick some,” proposed Priscilla.
“Don’t you think we might be able to sell them in the next town if we gathered enough?” Desiré asked Jack.
“Perhaps. There is a hotel, and lots of boarding houses in Kentville; so I’m told.”
They left the horses to graze in the shade of some trees, and the whole family, armed with various sized dishes, scattered over the field. After a couple of hours’ steady work, they transferred the berries to a basket, covered them with leaves, and continued on their way.
“Who’s going to sell them?” questioned Jack, when they were nearly to Kentville.
“Never thought of that,” confessed Desiré.
“I will,” offered Priscilla. “Let me!”
“Me too,” chimed René. “I can sell berries fine.”
“You’re a bit young, Renny,” said Jack with a smile; then, turning to Priscilla, he said, “All right, if you want to.”
Desiré looked a bit surprised at his willingness; but Jack just drew the team up in front of one of the smaller boarding houses and suggested, “Try here.”
The little girl took the basket which he handed down to her, walked boldly up the path to the front door, and knocked. Through the screen door they heard an annoyed voice say—“Now, I’ve told you—Oh, what is it, child?”
A low conversation ensued, and Priscilla flew out to the wagon again, displaying proudly a couple of silver coins.
“She’ll take some any time, she says; and she knows other places where they would.”
“How would it be,” inquired Desiré thoughtfully as they went on, “if we took time for berry picking so long as they last; even if we don’t cover so much ground, it will be clear profit.”
“We could,” said Jack slowly; “and it would be better for us all to be out of the wagon for a while.”
“In that case,” asked Desiré, “hadn’t we better camp nearby, since we know we can find quantities of berries here, and Kentville is a pretty good market.”
Jack agreed.
A most delightful spot beside a noisy brook, just outside the town, was selected as a camp site; and for two whole weeks they scoured the surrounding country for berries, taking their harvest in to Kentville once a day.
“I guess these are the last,” commented Desiré rather regretfully, as they climbed up a slope toward a bridge on their way home one afternoon.
“Oh, I see a few down there,” cried Priscilla, starting toward the edge of the river bank.
“Be careful,” called Jack, as she put one foot part way down the bank to reach some clusters beyond her, rather than walk a little farther.
His warning came too late. Even as he spoke, her foot slipped on the mud; and before she could save herself, she slid all the way down the soft slope and rolled into the river.
CHAPTER XIV
TWO MISHAPS
Fortunately the tide was out; so the water was not very deep, and while Desiré stood on the bridge and watched helplessly, and Jack was looking for a place where he could go to her assistance, Priscilla managed to get out of the water.
“Don’t come down,” she called, “you’ll fall too. I’ll be up soon.”
But the mud was very slippery; and again and again she slid back, while René shouted with laughter, and clapped his hands. Even Desiré had to smile; for Priscilla did look funny, plastered with red mud, and dripping with water. Jack again started toward her, but Desiré held him back.
“There is no use in two of you getting in that state. She’s in no danger, and since she is lighter in weight than you, she stands a much better chance of climbing up that bank. Prissy,” she called, “crawl on your hands and knees.”
The little girl obeyed, and finally reached the top, where Jack stretched out a strong hand to pull her over the edge.
“What shall I do?” she wailed, holding her sticky arms out straight from her body, and half blinded by the wet, muddy hair hanging over her face.
“I wish I knew,” said Desiré. “Can you walk home, do you think?”
“I guess so. I’ll try; but—but—I lost all my berries!”
“You look like a big berry yourself, you’re so red,” gurgled René.
At least one of the party was enjoying the incident to the utmost.
It took a long time to scrape and wash the mud off poor Priscilla, and when the task was accomplished they were exhausted.
While the others were occupied, René had been playing about by himself. Just as Priscilla looked once more like herself, the little boy ran toward the group crying at the top of his voice.
“What’s happened?” demanded Jack, advancing to meet the child and picking him up.
“Bite!” he wailed, holding out his finger.
“What bit you?”
“Long, wiggly thing,” sobbed the little fellow. “Ran away so fast.”
“Snake!” said Desiré. “Oh, Jack! What shall we do?”
“Don’t be frightened,” said the boy, calmly sitting down with the little fellow on his lap, and examining the finger carefully. He found the bite, and putting it to his lips, began to suck the blood from it while Desiré helped hold René still.
“Jack, do be careful,” she begged anxiously; “be sure not to swallow any of it,” as he paused to dispose of what he had drawn from the wound. “Be quiet, Renny; brother is trying to make you well; so you mustn’t mind if he hurts you a little.”
Priscilla, with terrified eyes, stood looking on helplessly until Desiré sent her for a box of emergency supplies which she had prepared before leaving Sissiboo.
“I hardly think it was a poisonous snake,” said Jack, when he had done all he could; “but I suppose it is best to be on the safe side. I had better take him in to Kentville to a doctor.”
“Oh, yes,” breathed Desiré, in great relief; “and let him see if you’re all right too.”
They hitched up the horses and drove into the town, and while Jack and Desiré took René to the physician’s office, Priscilla took the berries they had gathered that day to her first customer, Mrs. Auberge. They had become good friends, and the little girl naturally told her of the recent accidents.
“There are no dangerous snakes right around here,” she said soothingly; “but it does no harm to have a doctor look the boy over. So you’re going on tomorrow? I’ll miss you. How would you like to stay with me for the rest of the summer and help me with the tourists? I’ll pay you.”
“I’d have to ask Jack,” replied the child slowly, after a minute’s thought. “I’ll come back and let you know.”
She met the others just coming out of the doctor’s house.
“Renny and Jack are both all right,” Desiré cried joyfully to her little sister. “Where have you been?”
“I sold the berries to Mrs. Auberge; and—and—Jack—”
“Yes?”
“She wants me to stay here and help her for the rest of the summer, and she’ll pay me.”
Desiré glanced quickly at Jack, who stood regarding Priscilla very gravely.
“Do you want to stay?” he inquired, finally.
“It would bring in some money—I’d be glad—that is—”
“That isn’t what I asked you, Prissy. I said do you want to stay.”
“Answer Jack, dear,” urged Desiré, as the child stood silent, hanging her head. “Don’t be afraid to say just what you feel.”
“She isn’t afraid,” said Jack gently. “Do you want to stay with Mrs. Auberge, dear?”
Priscilla shook her head.
“All right,” replied her brother; “that settles it.”
“I told her I’d let her know—” began the little girl.
“Very well. Run back and thank her nicely for her offer, but say that this summer we are all going to stay together. We’ll walk on slowly, and you can catch up with us.”
Before they had gone far, they heard running steps behind them; and Priscilla came abreast, catching Jack by the hand.
“See what she gave me,” holding up a box as she spoke; “a game we can all play; and any time I want to, I can stay and help her.”
“That’s very nice of her,” said Desiré. “How wonderful people are to us everywhere.”
“It’s a good thing,” remarked Jack that night, “that tomorrow we shall return to our regular occupation and way of living. I feel as if I had had enough excitement today to last for the rest of the summer.”
“Oh, of that kind, perhaps,” agreed Desiré; “but there are other kinds; and those I hope we’ll meet. Did the doctor charge much?”
“About half what we made on the berries,” smiled Jack.
“But we’re still a little better off than when we came.”
“Yes, some; but not much.”
“Well, never mind; huckleberries are coming, and we’ll make it up on them,” decided Desiré hopefully. “Wasn’t it dear of Prissy to be willing to go to work?”
“Yes, she spoke of it again when I bade her goodnight; but I said we could support her until she is older. While it can be managed otherwise, I hate to have her cooped up in a strange house doing all kinds of odd jobs.”
“We haven’t done so badly thus far, have we?”
“No; but we haven’t made anywhere near enough to settle down somewhere and go to school.”
“But the summer isn’t over yet; and who knows what will happen before winter comes?”
“You’re a hopeful little pal, Dissy,” he said, kissing her fondly.
“Now we must begin to look for the Godet house,” said Desiré, pulling out her little blue history the next morning, when they were on the way to Wolfville.
“I was sorry we could get no information, when we passed through Wilmot, about the first Wistmore house in this country,” said Jack.
“They lived on a sheep farm when they came here from the States, and probably the place looks like all others of its kind,” replied Desiré, poring over the book.
“I think the Godet house must be the other side of Grand Pré,” observed Jack, looking over her shoulder. “We’ll go there first.”
So they turned off the main road and drove down the hill, through the straggling village, its long street bordered by spreading trees and scattered white houses far back from the road. The great marsh meadow, which was the Grand Pré of Longfellow’s poem Evangeline, has been set apart as a park, and is surrounded by a fence. By going through a gate-house, one enters the enclosure known as Acadian National Park.
As the Wistmores descended the low broad step on the park side of the gate-house, René, his eyes on the distant well of which he had heard his sisters talking, put one foot right into a very small flower-bordered pool at the left of the step. Everyone turned at the sound of the splash.
“Renny!” exclaimed Priscilla severely, “I never saw such a child for water.”
“You rolled right into the river,” retorted the little boy, “and got all red mud too!”
Jack and Desiré exchanged smiles.
For an hour the children wandered over the interesting and beautiful meadowland, dotted with large beds of gorgeous flowers.
“What a sense of spaciousness, and of peace, the place gives one,” observed Desiré, as they stood before the little chapel, gazing about them. “Look, René, at the swallows’ nests.”
On the walls, close to the buttress which supports the sharply slanting roof, several nests were plastered.
“And is this the very same church mentioned in Evangeline?” inquired Priscilla, nearly breaking her neck to look up at the belfry, surmounted by a tall four-sided spire.
“No; but it is built on the site of that one, and the row of willows you see down there to the right grew on the main street of Grand Pré. The first settlers brought the shoots from Normandy. The well we passed on our way up is the same one from which the inhabitants of the olden village obtained their water supply. Just north of here is the Basin of Minas, where the people embarked on the ship which carried them away at the time of the Expulsion. This meadowland all around us was protected from the high tides by dykes like you saw a few weeks ago in Bear River. At one side of the Basin lies Cape Blomidon, where the amethysts are found; and—”
“Where Glooscap lived,” interrupted René, always glad to contribute to the narratives.
“Yes,” assented Jack, “where Glooscap lived. After the hay was cut from the meadows,” he continued, “cattle were turned in to graze until winter came.”
“How queer it makes one feel to be here,” observed Desiré dreamily.
They missed Priscilla at that moment, and looking around, saw her standing in front of the large bronze statue of Evangeline, which is in the centre of the park.
“She doesn’t look at all like I thought she would,” commented the little girl in disappointed tones, as the others joined her. They all gazed in silence for a moment at the sorrowful figure, looking backward at the land she was so reluctant to leave.
“You probably like to think of her, as I do, in a happier mood,” said Desiré; “but she must have been pretty sad when she went away.”
“We had better go on now,” decided Jack. So they followed the little stream which twists its way across the meadow; a mere thread in some places, in others wide enough to be bridged with single planks. Once it spread out into a fair-sized pond, covered with water lilies and guarded by a family of ducks who regarded the visitors scornfully.
“Now for our house,” cried Desiré as they drove onto the main road again. “Please go very slowly, Jack, so that we won’t miss it.”
They all peered eagerly out of the wagon; and when they saw, up a little lane, a dilapidated-looking building, they all exclaimed together—“That must be it!”
Jack drove as close as the underbrush would allow, and they proceeded on foot until they were standing before a small log cabin, windowless, doorless, a huge flat stone for a doorstep, and a chimney built of irregular stones.
CHAPTER XV
THE OLD GODET HOUSE
“No floors,” observed Priscilla, peeking in.
“It’s a mere shell,” said Jack; “everything rotted away but the walls and the chimney.”
“But how stout they are!” exclaimed Desiré, triumphantly.
“We’ll look at it again when we come back this way, if you like,” promised Jack presently; “but now I want to get on to Windsor.”
“There’s the remains of a garden back of the cabin,” commented Priscilla, as they drove away. “I can see three or four flowers.”
“The first seeds of which were doubtless planted by our—how many times great-grandmother, Jack?” asked Desiré.
“Don’t know. The ‘greats’ always did puzzle me.”
“Oh!” cried René, “I always thought you knowed everything.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, my boy,” laughed Jack; “but I don’t.”
“And now,” said Priscilla, “I want to see the place where you went to school, Jack. Wasn’t it here?”
“Yes. I’ll show it to you when we come back.”
“How strange,” commented Desiré to Jack, “that you never heard of or saw the place when you were here.”
The boy smiled. “I was far too busy going to classes, preparing assignments, and coaching some of the other fellows, to hunt up old ruins.”
Desiré was very quiet for the rest of the day, but the next day, when they were camped near the river Avon just beyond the town of Wolfville, she said rather timidly to Jack:
“Do you suppose we could find out anywhere who owns the Godet house now?”
“Possibly; but why?”
“I’d just like to know.”
Her brother looked at her keenly before he said—“We can walk into town and see what information we can get, if you like.”
“Do you suppose the children would be safe if we left them?” looking up at him doubtfully.
“I think so. Priscilla must begin to take a little responsibility now. We’ll have plenty of time to get back before dinner time.”
While Desiré got ready, Jack issued instructions to the two children, closing with—“René, you’re to mind Priscilla; and Prissy, don’t go away from the wagon, or let René out of your sight.”
They had gone only a short distance when Desiré, who had looked back several times, said—“Jack, would you mind very much if I let you go on alone, and I went back?”
“No, of course not; don’t you feel well?” he inquired anxiously.
“Perfectly; but—Prissy is pretty young to be left with the wagon and the baby; and it isn’t as if you really needed me along.”
“I think they’re perfectly safe, but if you’d feel better about it, go back by all means,” said her brother kindly.
So Desiré returned to the children, and waited in a fever of suspense for Jack to come back. With one eye on the long road, and the other on her household, or rather wagonhold, duties, she was ready to drop everything and go to meet him as soon as his tall form appeared in the distance.
At full speed she dashed along the highway, raising quite a cloud of fine white dust, and fell into Jack’s arms outspread to stop her.
“Good work, Dissy! All our riding hasn’t made you forget how to run. Remember the races you and I used to have when we were little, on that smooth path running along the edge of the woods?”
“And the day you fell over a stone and had such a terrible nosebleed? How frightened I was!”
“We had lots of good times together when we were kids, didn’t we?” asked Jack, laying his arm affectionately across her shoulders.
“We surely did; but why say ‘when we were kids?’ We do now, too, only they are a different kind of times.”
“And a different kind of race,” added Jack, thoughtfully.
“Well, what did you do in town?” asked the girl, unable to restrain her curiosity any longer.
“I rambled about a bit first, asking a question here and there, and finally ended up at the house of Judge Herbine. He’s a fine old man, Desiré; you’d like him. As he is quite a story-teller, and very much interested in our affairs, it took some time to get the information I was after; but at last I succeeded in finding out that the house apparently belongs to no one. Some years ago a man from the States wanted to buy the site for a summer home, but when he investigated and found that there wasn’t a clear title to the property, he decided not to take it. I don’t really understand it, but it’s something about some papers that are missing, have been for years and years back. Nobody else wanted it, so—”
“We can take it ourselves,” concluded Desiré.
The boy stood stock still in the road, and looked at his sister in frank dismay.
“What on earth do you mean!” he asked.
“Just what I said. If it belongs to nobody, we, being the Godets’ descendants, can surely take it. Who’d have a better right?”
Jack looked more and more puzzled, as he said—“What would you do with it?”
“Do with it? Why, live in it, of course.”
The boy regarded her with such a worried look that she laughed outright.
“I’m perfectly sane, Jack. My plan is this. We’ll have to live somewhere during the winter; and if we board, we’ll use up all the money we make this summer. With this as our headquarters, during unpleasant weather we could make day trips as we planned, and send Prissy to school every day in Wolfville. Or possibly you could get some kind of a job in Windsor for the winter, and I could take charge of the wagon.”
“But nobody could possibly live in that cabin,” objected Jack, brushing away a persistently hovering bee. “It’s hopeless.”
“Indeed it isn’t hopeless. I agree with you that no one could live in it the way it is now, but with new floors and a couple of partitions, it would be fine. You admitted that the walls were stout, and the chimney perfect.”
“With help, I could put down floors—” began Jack half to himself, after a moment’s consideration. “We’ll have to think this out more carefully, though, and talk it over again.” And he added hurriedly as they got near the wagon, and Priscilla dashed out to meet them, “Don’t say anything yet before the children.”
The same afternoon Jack went again to town, and did not return until supper time. Priscilla was curious to know what he did there, but he gave such absurd answers to her questions that she finally gave up.
“I’m not ever going to ask you another question,” she announced.
“Not until next time,” teased Jack, ruffling up her hair.
“I suppose you are as curious as Prissy,” he said later on to Desiré, after the children were asleep.
August had come in with a cool wind from over Fundy, and after darkness fell, the chill was more noticeable; so Jack had built a small camp fire, and he and Desiré were sitting beside it on a pile of cedar boughs.
“Well, yes,” admitted Desiré. “I must confess that I am.”
“I went to see a young carpenter that the judge recommended to me—”
“About floors?” asked Desiré eagerly, twisting around so quickly to look directly into his face that the pile of boughs swayed threateningly.
“Look out, Dissy!” warned her brother. “You’ll have us both in the fire if you don’t sit still. Yes, about floors, and partitions.”
“What did he say?”
“He’s busy on one of the farms now, but when the crops are in he’ll do the work for us at a price that we can afford to pay. That is, I think we can if we do well for the rest of the summer.”
“Then we’ll just have to,” decreed Desiré, tossing a couple of pine cones into the fire.
“The judge is a good old scout. Seemed so interested in us that I told him what we were doing, or rather trying to do, and he was awfully keen about seeing the rest of you. So he’s coming out tomorrow to lunch—”
“Tomorrow!” exclaimed Desiré. “Why, I thought you were anxious to get on to Windsor; and we’ve already lost a day.”