A Little Florida Lady Part 17

Harvey held his head high. "No, indeed, I won't go. If their houses burn, it's my fault. I have some money in the bank and I'll give them every cent of it. They look like poor fishermen. Oh, Beth, it's too terrible. See how high the flames go."

Up, up, they leaped, growing higher and more fierce every moment. The sparks flew inland. If some change did not occur, no power under the sun could save the poor fishermen's homes.

The two poor, forlorn little culprits waited in the roadway and watched the progress of the awful flames.

The two fires looked like immense dragons that were rushing at each other in uncontrolled fury. The sparks flew right and left, but the counter fire served its purpose somewhat in that part of the flames'

force was spent upon the other.

The fires crackled and hissed, and to Harvey these were the voices of the dragons defying and mocking him. To him they said:

"What can you do to stop us? Nothing. Yes, you may well tremble. It was you, you alone, that set us monsters free and we will not be chained now that we are loose." Upward the fire dragons flew, and even as they sank down somewhat, their mocking did not cease.

"Counter fires may check us momentarily, but presently we will sweep upwards and devour the fishermen's huts in our fiery grasp. It is awful to you, but to us it is fun, fun, fun, and we will not be stopped. Look at us. Look at us."

Again the flames leaped higher and higher. Harvey covered his face with his hands. He could not bear the sight another instant.

Beth would have comforted him if she had known how, but what could she say? She, too, felt that nothing could stop the onward rush of the dragons.

But the one opponent that had power over them suddenly descended to take part in the fray.

Beth clapped her hands in glee. "It's raining, Harvey; it's raining."

The sun was still shining brightly, but, sure enough, one of those showers peculiar to tropical lands was descending, and the wind, too, abated somewhat.

"Thank G.o.d," murmured Harvey. "Beth, I'm going to speak to the men."

She grasped him by the arm. "Oh, Harvey, they might arrest you."

"Nonsense, Beth; they don't know how the fire started, and if their houses don't burn, there's no use in telling. You wait here for me."

He was gone only a few minutes, and, when Beth caught sight of his radiant face, she knew the good news before he said a word.

"Beth, they say the houses won't burn. We can go now."

They circled around the woods by the road, and, when they came to the river, walked down the beach to their boat which they found unharmed.

The fish were burned to cinders.

"We don't care, do we, Beth? I couldn't eat them, anyway, after all the trouble they have caused us. It was all their fault. If they hadn't been so foolish as to be caught, there wouldn't have been any fire. But I've built fires a hundred times before and never had anything like this to happen."

Trouble, it is said, never comes singly. When they were once more back in the boat, Harvey found that he had both tide and wind against him, and the river had become very squally. The St. Johns is one of the most treacherous rivers in the world. It takes only a very short time for her waters to become white-capped.

Harvey pulled manfully on the oars, but it was very hard for him to make any headway. Beth finally asked if she could not help to row.

"No, keep perfectly still where you are," he answered in such a short manner that his little companion felt grieved. She tried to let him know that she was hurt, by not saying another word, but he was too busy to mind. By this time, he was worried.

"Supposing anything happened to us," he thought to himself, "Beth's mother would never forgive me. It was my fault that Beth came."

He never knew exactly how it happened. Either the oar was defective, or else he pulled too hard on it as it struck a large wave; whichever it was, one of the oars snapped suddenly. For a moment or so the boat rocked helplessly on the waves, and it was driven backwards towards the sh.o.r.e from which they had just come.

"Harvey," asked Beth almost in a whisper, "are we going to be drowned?

Can't I ever tell mamma how sorry, how very sorry, I am?"

"I won't let you drown, Beth."

He spoke with more a.s.surance than he really felt, but his manner comforted her. He also proved that he was a born sailor. First, he skilfully steered the boat with the remaining oar. Next, he picked up from under one of the seats an old umbrella which chanced to be in the boat, and used it for a sail. Thus they were quickly carried back to sh.o.r.e not far from the scene of the fire.

Harvey once more helped Beth out, and made the boat fast. His plans were already made.

"Beth, wait here for me. I'm going to hire one of the men to take us back."

Beth had time, while he was gone, to consider all that had happened.

More than ever, she felt that it had been very wrong for her to come without permission.

Harvey presently returned with a man who carried a pair of oars.

"He's going to row us across, Beth."

"Is it safe?"

The man smiled. "You needn't fear. I'm strong, and the squall has about blown over."

He helped the children in, and jumped into the boat himself as he pushed it from sh.o.r.e.

"How are you ever going to get back yourself?" asked Beth, as the man took his place at the oars. She was fearful that Harvey would have to row him back. Otherwise, his return trip appeared to her as intricate as some of the puzzles she had heard about crossing streams.

"I'm going to walk into town from your place. I have some errands there, and will take the ferry back."

Beth quieted down and watched the man. His rowing aroused her admiration. She wished that some time she could prove as great an expert as he, and resolved to do her very best to imitate him. She noted especially, the long swinging strokes that he took. Crossing the river was little work for him, and the other side was reached in safety. They drew up alongside the Davenport wharf.

Harvey offered to go up to the house with Beth, and take the blame upon himself, but she thought that her mother would rather hear of the adventure from her. So the three occupants of the boat parted company.

Mrs. Davenport had not yet returned when Beth reached the house, but came soon afterwards. Beth immediately confessed to her every incident of the day.

"This has taught you a lesson, Beth, without mamma's saying anything,"

Mrs. Davenport said, when the little penitent had finished. "You know yourself it was very wrong to go without permission, and I do not think you will ever do such a thing again, will you?"

"Never," answered Beth so earnestly that Mrs. Davenport had full faith in her promise.

CHAPTER VII

Beth's New Playfellow

Beth could not find Fritz high or low and she was worried about him.

She ran out to the barn to ask January if he had seen anything of her pet. She found the former inside the barn leaning up against a part.i.tion wall with his eyes shut and his mouth wide open. He was fast asleep and looked very droll.