Pippin; A Wandering Flame Part 36

Honest, now!"

Then Mary would bend over the bed in an agony of self-reproach.

"Father, are you easier? Father, would you like a drink? Let me lift your head--so!"

And through it all, something at the back of her brain knew that along the white ribbon of road a figure was striding, lithe, alert, a wheel at its back and a song on its lips. Yes, a song! All would come right, it couldn't help but. The Lord was Pippin's shepherd, e'en as He was Mary's. He would make her see, make her understand. Glory be!

"Dinner's ready, Mary! Can you come?" Mrs. Bailey, opening the door softly, spoke under her breath, with a glance at the still figure in the bed, at the hand clutching Mary's with feeble, clinging grasp. Mary nodded and her lips shaped the words,

"Presently! He's dropping off asleep."

Five minutes pa.s.sed; ten minutes. At last the fingers loosed their hold, the eyes closed, the lines faded, and the ugly old wax mask lay still on the pillow.

Quietly Mary rose, her soft dress making no sound. Quietly she stole to the door, quietly opened it, so quietly that no one saw or heard her, for at that moment another door was flung wide open from outside, and a gay "h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo!" brought every one to their feet. Pippin stood in the doorway, laughing, glowing, his wheel at his back; in his arms--a child--a little, dark, bright-eyed child, who clung to him and gazed wide-eyed at the strange faces, for all were cl.u.s.tering about him now with greetings and questions.

"Where have you been, Pippin? We've been looking for you all day. How are you? What you been doing? Whose child is that?"

"Easy, folks, easy!" laughed Pippin. "You're scaring the kiddy out of his boots--if he had any!" with a glance at the brown toes that were curling frantically round him. "Mis' Bailey, you come--"

"Whose child is it?" asked Lucy Bailey again, as she came forward.

"Well!" Pippin laughed again, as he tried to unwind the clinging brown arms from his neck. His face was alight, there was a ring of triumph in his voice. "He calls me Daddy. What do you know about that? I expect he's mine, ain't he?"

Mary! Mary! Stop! Wait and listen! This child is six years old, and Pippin two and twenty. Use the reason on which you pride yourself!

But Mary is gone, closing the door softly. Gone to fling herself on her knees beside the dying reprobate, to tell him--silently, be sure! His sleep must not be broken--tell him over and over that he is all she has in the world, that she is a wicked, wicked girl; that she will try to love him; she will, she will!

"Mother! mother! I will try!"

No one sees; no one hears.

Pippin, after a wistful glance round the room, sat down at the table and tucked the child comfortably away under his left arm.

"Set down, please, everybody!" he said. "I'm right sorry I disturbed you all. Seemed so good to get here! No, Mis' Bailey, full as much obliged, seein' he holds so to me, I'll keep him right here. If you'd pa.s.s me some bread and milk; he can eat by himself," proudly; "can't you, old sport? There now! Fall afoul of that, what say? Elder, I am proper glad to see you, I sure am. I was scared to death you'd got out of patience and gone. Mary--Miss Blossom--well? The Old Man--she got here in time?"

Rea.s.sured on this point, he drew a long sigh of relief. "That's good!

That's good! I kep' on thinkin' and thinkin', what if she come too late?

She comin' in soon?"

"Pretty soon, Pippin; he can't bear to have her out of his sight, so she's waiting till he drops asleep. If you don't tell us about that child, Mrs. Bailey won't give you a morsel to eat, will you, Mrs.

Bailey? And it's the best corned beef hash you ever tasted."

Pippin threw back his head and laughed again, the gay, triumphant laugh that rang through the kitchen.

"Got you all guessin', ain't I? Now I'll tell you all about it.

Yesterday I was slammin' along the ro'd--it's been a long trip, twice as long as gettin' there, 'cause I didn't stop any place excep' I had to--slammin' along to beat the band, when I heard a kid hollerin', hollerin' like he was hurt. Come round the corner, and there--green gra.s.s! there was a big Dago guy with an organ, and he was layin' into this kid. Layin' into him, you understand, with a stick--little kid like this! Wouldn't that give--Well! I guess I went sort of dotty. I--well, you'll excuse me, ladies! I done what appeared the right dope--in that case, you understand. I give him his, in good shape! And then I dumped his organ atop of him, and took the kid and _e_-loped. That's all there is to it, really." He swept the table with a smile as confident as it was appealing. "Guess you'd all done the same, wouldn't you? The gents, I would say."

There was a doubtful murmur, which might mean a.s.sent or dissent; the chaplain alone spoke out.

"I don't know, Pippin! Of course you were right to stop the man's beating the child; but if he was his father--"

"Father nothin'! He was one of them Pat Rooneys."

"Pat Rooneys? What do you mean?"

"That's what they call 'em!" with an a.s.sured nod. "Never knew why they give 'em an Irish name, for they're I-talian dagoes, every man Jack of 'em. _Buy_ kids, they do, or as good as buy 'em, and learn 'em--"

A light broke on the chaplain. "Oh! _padrone_, you mean!"

"That's what I say. Pat Roney or Rooney: Rooney's a more common name.

There's Rooneys every place, I guess, but they're mostly Irish. Well!

Now you see, Elder, this kiddo--lemme tell you! Say, kiddo! Where's Puppa?"

"Papagondaiddo!" replied the child, burrowing his head into Pippin's shoulder.

"Where's Mamma?"

"Mammagondaiddo!"

"Want to go back to Pat Rooney?"

The boy screamed, and clung frantically round Pippin's neck, half choking him.

"There! You see, Elder, and folks! And you see this!" he added gravely, pulling the ragged shirt from the little shoulders. The women cried out in pity and horror; the men grew red and muttered. Pippin pulled the shirt up again, gently as a woman. "I know the way that feels!" he said simply. "I've been there!"

There was a moment's silence, while he stroked the curly head absently.

Then Lucy Bailey, the tears running down her cheeks, held out her arms.

"Come to me, little lamb!" she said. "Come and have a nice warm bath and some clean dry clothes! Then we'll go out and see the chickabiddies and the ducks! Come to Auntie!"

The child resisted at first, but after a long look at her, put his hand in hers and trotted off obediently. Pippin drew a breath of relief, and turned eagerly to the chaplain.

"Glory!" he cried. "Glory to G.o.d! Wa'n't that a leadin', Elder? Honest, now, did ever you see a leadin' made clearer? I set out to find that little gal, allowin' soon as I'd found her, to do thus and so--You know, to get some boys and give 'em the glad hand, help 'em up. And the very day after I find that gal--" again that wistful glance round the room; she was long in coming--"the _very day_, sir, the Lord sends this kid right in my road. And--" Pippin's eyes brightened; he brought his hand down with a resounding smack on the table--"green gra.s.s! _before_ that, Elder!--there's another kid, all ready to come and start right in, waitin' up there to the Orphan joint till I tip him the signal, and then just watch him make tracks for Cyrus! I--I guess I'll have to sing, Elder; I feel like I was bustin'. Shall we praise the Lord a spell in song?"

He was springing to his feet, but the chaplain, exchanging a glance with Jacob Bailey, laid a quiet hand on his shoulder.

"Not just yet, Pippin!" he said. "You are going too fast; we must talk this over. Come out with me--why, you foolish fellow, you haven't eaten any dinner!"

"That's right! I haven't. And I'm holler as a pail, too. Trouble you for a mite of that hash, Mr. Bailey? Gee! it _is_ good, no two ways about that!"

Absurd that they should all sit and watch Pippin eating his dinner, but they did. He drew them like a magnet. Some of them lingered because it put off a little longer the return to work; this was the case of Mr.

Wisk, who did not like to dig potatoes. Others, like Brand and Miss Whetstone, p.r.i.c.ked eager ears for the sc.r.a.ps of gay talk that alternated with Pippin's mouthfuls; while Miss Pudgkins watched the mouthfuls themselves with mournful interest, and while admiring the skill with which Pippin handled his knife (his formative years had not known forks), saw with dismay the dwindling pile of savory hash. She had counted on a portion for her supper; she must say he was a master hand at eating. The chaplain for his part watched the meal with mingled amus.e.m.e.nt and impatience. It was pleasant to see a perfectly healthy creature enjoying his food, but, with a third mountain of hash just begun upon, and kindling glances thrown toward the custard pie and doughnuts, what was to become of the "heart-to-hearter" which he must have with his "wandering flame"? The moments were pa.s.sing, the afternoon train looming larger and larger.

But the chaplain was not to take the train that afternoon. Just as Pippin had flung himself joyously on the pie, the inner door opened, and Mary, pale and grave, appeared.

"Mr. Hadley," she said, "will you come? Father isn't so well!"