The Motor Maids by Rose, Shamrock and Thistle Part 6

"Well, what of that? It's a good name."

"I don't know," answered the boy, "but I like you and I wish you were my tutor,-just you and no one else. You would tell me stories, wouldn't you, Feargus?" he continued, pressing against the young man's side affectionately. "They will never tell me anything except about Latin and Greek. I want to hear about fairies and giants and elves. There's a fairy in our forest. I saw her once. She was only this big--" he held up his forefinger. "Just a tiny bit of a fairy, you know. She wore white and she had a silver star in her hair, and she had wings,"-his voice dropped mysteriously,-"b.u.t.terfly wings."

"And did you really see her?" asked Billie gently.

"Oh, yes. Nurse saw her, too. I was quite small then and had a nurse.

The fairy's name was 'Lilli-Bullero.'"

"'Lilli-Bullero-bullen a la- Lero-lero, Lilli-Bullero, Lero-lero-bullen a la."

sang Feargus, with a gay laugh. "That's a song, Arthur, my boy. I'll teach it to you some day."

"But it's the name of my fairy, too," persisted Arthur. "She lives in Ireland and she chooses flowers for her homes. She came into the garden looking for a new house when we saw her. She flew from one flower to another, but she didn't stay."

The child was so inspired by his recollections of Lilli-Bullero, that he did not notice the wrathful figure of Dr. Benton hurrying down the deck.

The old man had slipped on his overcoat over his dressing gown, and the skirts of these two voluminous garments, blown about by the scurrying wind, impeded his walk so that he hardly made any progress.

"Arthur, boy," he thundered, half-way down the deck.

Arthur looked up quickly, gave a wild elfin laugh at the spectacle of the old man trying to keep his bare legs covered from the cold, then broke away and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

The doctor shook his fist at him.

"You young scamp! I shall report the matter to your father at once," he cried. "How dare you disobey me when you have strict orders to obey?"

Billie and Feargus leaned on the ship's rail and watched the scene. It was none of their affair and they had no intention of interfering.

"Horrid old man!" cried Arthur. "I hate you and I shall tell my father so. I will not obey you, so there!"

He darted down the deck, the old man after him, his coat tails flapping ludicrously, and they disappeared around the end of the ship.

The young people laughed gayly.

"What an old nuisance he is!" exclaimed Feargus.

"What a strange father Arthur must have!" said Billie at the same moment.

"Don't you think we'd better follow to see that no harm is done?"

suggested Feargus, after a moment. "Old Crusty might take advantage of no one's being on deck to strike the little fellow, and, by Jove, I'd like to see him try it when I am there!"

They hurried down toward the stern, and turned the corner just in time to see something which made their blood turn cold.

Little Arthur, frightened, evidently, by the rage of his guardian, had climbed over the rail and was standing on the outer edge of the deck holding to the bal.u.s.trade with one hand and shaking his other fist angrily at the doctor, who was yelling hoa.r.s.ely:

"Come back, you silly little fool! Idiot that you are, come back!"

Feargus ran swiftly up the deck followed by Billie.

"Don't speak to the boy like that or you'll have him overboard!" he exclaimed.

"Mind your own business! Get out of my way!" cried the excited man, wringing his hands frantically as he hurried along battling with the wind and his waving skirts.

Feargus, instead of following, turned and ran as fast as he could around the side of the ship and disappeared, leaving Billy in a state of anxious perplexity.

"Don't come near me," Arthur was calling. "If you come a step nearer, I shall jump."

This piece of paralyzing information made the doctor pause and consider.

"Do you want to kill yourself?" he yelled.

Arthur looked at him with a strange unchildlike expression.

"Father O'Toole told me that when I died I should see my mother," he said, "and I would rather be with her than with you. I often think of dying. I shall be able to do as I like then."

"But your father, your poor father, think how he would miss you, Arthur," put in Billie.

"I think papa would be glad. He doesn't love me. Nurse told me he didn't. He loves Max because he is the biggest and strongest and can ride horseback and shoot a rifle. He doesn't love me,-n.o.body loves me--"

The boy began to cry bitterly.

The doctor moved a step nearer.

"Don't come near me," shrieked the child. "I shall throw myself in the water if you move again."

"You had better leave him to us," said Billie in a low voice. "Don't call his attention to Feargus and I will try to keep him interested."

The doctor retreated. It was evident that he could do nothing and that the life of his charge lay in the hands of those two despised young people. In the meantime, Feargus had run swiftly all the way around the deck and was now creeping along outside the railing, hoping to reach the child without being noticed.

"Arthur, I love you, dear," called Billie, coming a step nearer, "and I shall be a big sister to you always. I know lots of fairy stories, too.

Wouldn't you like to have me tell you about Queen Mab and all the fairies, how they danced every night in the moonlight in a circle on the lawn, and one night a big rabbit came along and scared them away--"

Arthur laughed joyfully and almost lost his balance. Billie's heart stood still. Feargus had nearly reached him now, but what if the child should turn his head and see him creeping up behind! Such a strange pa.s.sionate little fellow he was, filled with wild impulses and with bitterness, too. Might he not give the leap, as he threatened, just as Feargus stretched out his hand to grasp him?

"Arthur, if you keep perfectly still while I count ten," called Billie, "I will do anything in the world you ask. We will have a game of catcher, or hide and seek; or I'll tell you a beautiful story, or Feargus will sing you an Irish song--"

"Oh," interrupted the child in an ecstasy of pleasure which made Billie's heart fairly ache, "oh, will he? Goody, goody--" and with that he let go of the rail to clap his hands, and toppled over the side of the ship.

But Arthur was not destined to die that morning. Feargus, who reached him just as he fell, caught one of his small feet in a firm grasp and drew him back to the ledge. Then he lifted the unconscious child gently in his arms and gave him to Billie, who laid him on the deck.

Telemac Kalisch appeared just then, looking for his young Irish friend.

He hurried up to the group, followed by the doctor, who was speechless with fright and mortification.

"He's all right," said Telemac, feeling Arthur's heart and wetting the child's lips from one of the small phials in the medicine case. "There, he's coming to already. You came near having a fine ducking, my boy, didn't you?" he exclaimed, smiling gravely into the little fellow's bewildered eyes.

"Then I'm not dead, after all?" asked Arthur.

"Dead, indeed! I should say not. You're as right as a trivet. Close your eyes now for a minute until you get more used to things."

Telemac stood up and looked the doctor squarely in the eye.