Meanwhile, there were some anxious faces at the camp. The storm had broken there as suddenly as out on the lake. Bell and Gertrude were out fishing, but fortunately near the sh.o.r.e, and they reached home just as the fury broke loose. Obadiah and Ferguson were blown in on the gale, turning handsprings as they came, and singing
"Oh, I"d give a sight For to be a kite When the wind is howly-wowling!"
w.i.l.l.y and Kitty were discovered, after a few minutes" anxious search, under the great apple-tree, in high glee because it was raining apples, and the wind would mash them, and the lightning would cook them, and there was no need of coming home to tea, with apple-sauce growing on every tree. Being hoisted on the shoulders of the twins, they changed their point of view, and turning into Arabs mounted on camels, capered joyously into the house, to escape the sand-storm of the desert. Mr. Merryweather, who was spending a day or two in camp, came in from the boathouse, where he was tinkering boats as usual. The whole party sat down, wet and dishevelled, and drew breath as they looked at each other.
"Well, this is a visitation!" said Mr. Merryweather. "Why didn"t some of you tell me what was going on?"
"None of us knew till we found our faces slapped and our hair pulled out," said Bell. "This is a surprise-party, I think, got up for our special benefit."
"Are we all here?" asked Mrs. Merryweather. "Let me count! One, two, three, four, five, six, and you and I, Miles, make eight. But where are Roger and Hilda?"
"Out in the Cheemaun!" was the reply in chorus. There was a general exclamation of dismay, then each one commented in his fashion.
"Cricky!" said Phil. "The Professor will have a great chance for meteoro-lolli-lolli-logical observations, won"t he?"
"I fear, my gentle Roger, You"ll be as wet as Bodger!"
said Gerald.
"Who is Bodger?" asked little Kitty.
"Bodger, my blessed child, was a stodger, and a codger, and a very artful dodger; he carried his bones to David Jones, and asked to be took as a lodger."
"Do be quiet, Jerry!" said Bell. "Father, can the canoe stand such a gale as this?"
"And Hilda had on her BEST DRESS!" said Kitty, with tragic emphasis.
"Ho! Hilda doesn"t care for dresses!" said w.i.l.l.y, scornfully. "I got wheel-grease all over her skirt, the other day, and she didn"t say a word."
"I do feel anxious, Miles," said Mrs. Merryweather. "This is an awful gale."
"Pooh! pooh!" said her husband. "Roger knows how to take care of himself, and Hilda too. Boys, is the skiff well moored?"
The boys knew it was, but thought it would be well to see, and disappeared by handsprings into the darkness. A double splash, followed by joyous shouts, announced their arrival on and departure from the wharf; and they shortly reappeared, dripping and gleeful.
"Boys, how can you!" exclaimed their mother. "This is the fifth time you have been in to-day; besides, I have just tidied up this room. Go away with you, and drip in the tent."
"He pushed me off, and I pulled him in!" said Phil, in explanation. "Very sorry, shall not occur again."
"I wanted to see how deep the water was," said Gerald. "Very important, you know, to take soundings in a storm."
"Still more important to quicken the circulation after a cold bath," said Mr. Merryweather, taking up a leather strap from the table. The boys shrieked, and vanished through the window in a fine harlequin act.
The lightning blazed incessantly, the wind howled and roared about the camp, and the thunder pounded and smashed the clouds overhead.
Bell and her mother drew closer together, and Kitty nestled down between them, and held a hand of each, "to keep herself safe."
"If the lightning strikes the camp, what shall we do?" asked w.i.l.l.y.
"I think we shall be very likely to keep still!" said his father, dryly.
"Miles, how can you?" said Mrs. Merryweather. "I wonder you can joke, with those two children out in the canoe in this horror!"
"My dear, I would gladly weep, if I thought it would be of any a.s.sistance to Roger; as it is, I rather fancy he is quite as well off as we are, if not bet--"
Crack! The world turned to blue light, showing a ring of ghastly faces, looking terror at each other; then the sky fell, and all was night.
"All speak who are unhurt!" said Mr. Merryweather"s calm voice; and no one would have guessed the anguish of suspense in which he waited for the reply. But it came in a chorus: "Miranda!" "Bell!"
"Gertrude!" "Will!" "Kitty!"
"Thank G.o.d!" said Miles Merryweather. "That was a close call.
Boys, are you all right?" He stepped to the window as he spoke.
"All right, father!" For once the boys" voices sounded grave; as the pall of darkness lifted, they entered, very pale, and holding each other tightly by the hand. "The big oak is struck!" they said. "Shivered into kindling-wood. We were just going to climb it, to look at the storm."
"We don"t like this!" said Gerald. "We feel very much uncomfortable inside us, and we want our mother."
And sure enough, the two tall fellows sat down on the floor by their mother, and put their heads in her lap; and she patted the curly heads, and talked to them soothingly, and forgot that they were not still her little lads, whom she had rocked in her arms together many and many a time.
"Your nerves are upset," said their father. "Always the case when a stroke comes so near as that. If you ever feel inclined to climb a tree in a thunderstorm again, just mention it to me, and I will see to you." He spoke lightly, but he took occasion to pa.s.s near the boys, and laid his hand on them, as if to make sure that they were really there and safe, and rubbed their shoulders and gave them a little affectionate slap.
For a while they sat quiet, for all were still quivering from the blow that had pa.s.sed so near them. Gradually the fury of the storm abated; the lightning ceased to play continuously, and though each separate flash was still terribly vivid, yet the pauses between gave strength and refreshment to the wearied eyes and nerves. The great shocks of thunder rolled heavily, but still farther and farther away. The storm was moving off across the lake, and one thought was in the hearts of all--the birch canoe. How was it with those two, alone in that frail boat in the wild tempest? It seemed hours that they sat there, waiting and listening. At length--"It is lighter now," said Mr. Merryweather. "Come, boys, let us go down to the wharf, and see what we can see. Hark! what was that?"
For a moment every heart stood still. Then Mrs. Merryweather began to cry, and Bell and Gertrude and Kitty all fell into her arms and round her neck, and sobbed in chorus; but the boys started to their feet with a wild "Hurrah!" and dashed out of the house, followed by their father and w.i.l.l.y. For now, clearer every moment and clearer, came ringing across the water the words of the Skye Boat Song, sung by joyous voices of a youth and a maiden.
"Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on the wing, Onward, the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that"s born to be king Over the sea to Skye."
"But Roger is not a king!" said Gerald, with a queer little break in his voice. "He is only a codger!"
CHAPTER XIV.
ROGER THE CODGER.
"Miranda!" said Roger.
"Yes, my dear brother!"
"Tum te-tiddle-de-tum, tum, tum, tum!"
"Yes, my dear brother."
"I--oh, I beg your pardon; that isn"t what I meant to say, of course. A--the moon is in perigee now, you know."
"Roger," said his sister-in-law, looking up from her sewing, "you know there is no earthly use in saying that kind of thing to me.