The School By The Sea Part 22

With a simultaneous splash the two girls scrambled on board in the very nick of time, and, taking their places, gingerly unshipped the oars.

They were neither of them skilled for their task, and both realized that it was rather a wild and risky proceeding. For Ronnie's sake, however, they would have ventured far more, so they mutually hid their feelings, and pretended it was quite an everyday, easy kind of performance. If they had not much experience, their zeal and their strong young arms made the light little skiff fly like a sea-swallow, and they had soon gained the headland round which the other boat had disappeared. Very cautiously they proceeded, for fear of currents, but they managed successfully to pilot their craft past a group of half-sunken rocks and take her round the corner into the next bay. In front through the gathering darkness they could just distinguish the object of their pursuit making a landing upon the opposite sh.o.r.e. They could hear the grating of the keel on the shingle and an excited exclamation from Ronnie. They strained their eyes to watch what was happening. The man in the jersey helped Gerda to land, then taking Ronnie on his back strode rapidly away with him, Gerda walking close by his side. In another moment they had disappeared behind a group of rocks.

If the girls rowed fast before, they now redoubled their efforts. Both were flushed and panting, but they struggled valiantly on, and succeeded in beaching their skiff within a few yards of the white dinghy. They did not wait to cable her, but, anxious not to lose a moment of valuable time, made off in quest of the fugitives. At the other side of the group of rocks it was lighter, for they faced the west, and caught the last departing glories of the sunset. On the sands, bathed in the golden dying gleam of the afterglow, a lady was kneeling and clasping little Ronnie tightly in her arms. Even from the distance where they stood the chums could see how very fair and pretty she was.

Her hat had fallen on the beach, and her flaxen head was pressed closely against the child's short curls.

"Why, she's actually kissing him!" exclaimed Dulcie.

The scene was so utterly unantic.i.p.ated, and so entirely different from what they had expected to find, that the two girls stood for a moment almost at a loss. At that instant Gerda spied them, and turning to her companions made some remark in a low tone. The lady immediately loosed Ronnie and rose to her feet. Seeing their presence was discovered, the chums judged it best to walk boldly forward. They had come to rescue Ronnie, and it seemed high time to interfere.

"Miss Herbert's looking for you! You must go back with us at once," said Dulcie, laying an appropriating hand on the child's shoulder and glaring defiance at his kidnappers.

Gerda had blushed crimson. She looked egregiously caught. She glanced at the faces of her fellow conspirators as if seeking advice. The man in the brown jersey nodded.

"Yes--we'll go back at once," she stammered. "I--I was only trying to give Ronnie some fun."

"Miss Herbert doesn't think it fun," said Dulcie grimly. "You'd no business to take him away!"

The chums each seized the little boy by a hand and began to hurry him along towards the boats.

"But where are the fairies? Gerda promised I should see the fairies!" he objected.

"The fairies can't dance now, dear," replied Gerda sadly. "You remember I said they could only come if n.o.body was watching."

In silence the whole party returned to the shingle bank. Deirdre and Dulcie were too indignant for words, and Gerda seemed overwhelmed with embarra.s.sment. The fair-haired lady was crying quietly. Still, keeping a tight hold on Ronnie, the chums approached their skiff. Then for the first time the man in the brown jersey spoke.

"You'd better all come into my boat," he remarked briefly. "I'll fasten yours on to the stern and tow her along."

The chums started with surprise. Instead of the local dialect of a fisherman or, as they expected, the foreign accent of a German, he had the cultured, refined tone of an English gentleman. For a moment they hesitated. Did he mean to kidnap them as well as Ronnie? Perhaps he saw the doubt in their eyes.

"You needn't be afraid. I'll take you straight back," he urged.

Glad to escape the risky task of rowing round the point and steering clear of dangerous currents, the girls consented, though rather under protest, and wondering at the novelty of the situation which had made them, the pursuers, return in charge of the stranger whom they still distrusted. They sat in the stern, with Ronnie between them, guarding him like two faithful bulldogs. The lady stood upon the sh.o.r.e watching them as the boat pushed off. There was a sad, wistful look in her eyes.

She did not attempt to say good-bye.

The chums felt considerably relieved when at last they arrived at the cove again in safety. The man in the brown jersey helped them all to land without a word; then he unloosed the skiff, beached her on the shingle whence she had been taken, and rowed out alone into the bay.

Ronnie was growing sleepy; it took all Deirdre's and Dulcie's efforts to help him up the steep cliffside. Gerda followed a short way behind. Miss Herbert, who had really been uneasy about her charge, hailed their arrival with relief.

"Here you are at last! Where have you been, Ronnie? To see fairies!

Gerda mustn't tell you such nonsense. Wake up! We must be going home at once. It's after nine o'clock."

The bonfire had burnt low, and the girls were packing the cups into baskets, ready to be carried to the Dower House.

"We ought to tell Miss Birks about this," whispered Dulcie, and Deirdre agreed with her.

Late as it was when they got in, the two girls sought the Princ.i.p.al in her study and poured out the whole of the story--their alarm on Ronnie's behalf, their dread of the man in the brown jersey, and their suspicion that Gerda was a German spy plotting against the country. Miss Birks listened most attentively, putting in a question here and there.

"I don't think either England or Ronnie is in any immediate danger," she said. "You may make your minds easy on that respect. I shall have a word with Gerda presently. You have done right to tell me; but now you may leave the whole matter safely in my hands, and need not worry yourselves any more over it. On no account talk about it to anybody in the school, and unless Gerda refers to it herself, do not mention the subject to her."

"Trust Gerda not to speak of it," said Dulcie as they went upstairs.

"The Sphinx isn't likely to offer to unravel the mystery."

"It's a jig-saw puzzle I can't fit together," replied Deirdre. "It's all in odd pieces. Why was that lady crying? And what have she and the man in the brown jersey got to do with Ronnie?"

CHAPTER XV

The Old Windla.s.s

By this time the reader will probably have gathered that Master Ronald Trevellyan, though possessed of a very charming and winsome personality, had a decidedly strong will of his own. On the whole he was fairly good, but the lack of companions of his own age, and the fact that he was the one darling of the household, made it almost an impossibility to prevent him from becoming in some slight degree spoilt. Mrs. Trevellyan did her best to enforce obedience, but though her word was law, Ronnie was not always so ready to accept the authority of others, and occasionally exhibited a burst of independence. This was particularly noticeable with his governess. Miss Herbert was inclined to be easy-going and was not sufficiently firm with him, and the young scamp, finding he could get his own way, took advantage of her failing and sometimes defied her with impunity. The little fellow's simple lessons were over in the morning, and in the afternoon he either played in the garden or was taken for a walk. To him it was a great occasion if he chanced to meet the pupils from the Dower House. He counted them all as friends, and though he had his particular favourites among them, he was quite ready to be the general pet of the school. On the day but one after the bonfire, when on his way to the beach escorted by Miss Herbert, he encountered the twenty girls walking with Miss Harding towards the headland.

"Hallo, Ronnie boy! Where are you off to? We're all going to drill on the green and do ambulance practice. Won't Miss Herbert let you come and watch us?"

"Not to-day, thanks, I'm busy. I've got to go fishing," returned the "King of the Castle", proudly displaying a small shrimping net.

"Auntie's going to have what I catch fried for breakfast to-morrow."

"Hope she won't starve!"

"Hadn't you better run after a rabbit and catch it for her?"

"Or shoot a c.o.c.k sparrow?"

"Come with us to drill and we'll make you a colonel of the regiment."

"Or we'll practise ambulance work, and bind up your leg and carry you home on a coat."

"You've no idea what fun it would be."

But Ronnie stuck to his guns. He had come out with the intention of fishing, and not even the attractions of drill and ambulance could tempt him from trying his new shrimping net.

"We shall expect a pilchard apiece," declared his friends, as they gave up trying to cajole him and went on their way.

"You won't get any; they're all for Auntie!" he shouted. "Yes, they are, even if I catch shoals, and shoals, and shoals!"

The girls laughed, talked about him for a moment or two, and then dismissed him from their minds. They were full of their practice for the afternoon. It was only this term that drill and ambulance had been taken up at the school, so they were still in the first heat of their enthusiasm. On this occasion, too, Miss Barlow, a lady staying in the neighbourhood, who had been largely connected with the Girl Guide movement in Australia, had promised to come and inspect them and give them some of the results of her Colonial experience. A strip of green sward not far from the scene of the beacon fire made an excellent parade ground, and here they drew up in line to await the arrival of their honorary colonel, who was following with Miss Birks. Miss Barlow proved to be, like an old-fashioned children's book, "a combination of amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction". She had extremely jolly, pleasant manners and a fund of lively remarks, making everybody laugh heartily as she went her round of inspection.

"I'm glad you know the difference between left and right," she said.

"I'm told that country recruits for the army find such a difficulty in distinguishing between the two that their sergeant is sometimes obliged to make them tie a band of hay round one leg and a band of straw round the other. Then instead of calling out 'left--right--left--right' he says 'hay--straw--hay--straw' until they have grown accustomed to march."

"Do you find Colonial girls much quicker than English?" asked Jessie Macpherson.

"They are more resourceful, and very bright in suggesting fresh ideas, but they are not so willing to submit to discipline. They are more ready to copy a corps of roughriders than a Roman cohort. No doubt it is owing to the way they are brought up. Very few of them spend their early life in the charge of nurses and governesses. From babyhood they are taught to take care of themselves, to be prepared for emergencies, and to throw up whatever they may have in hand and go to the a.s.sistance of a neighbour who needs them. It is a training that makes them helpful and energetic, but perhaps a little too independent to accord entirely with the standards we keep at home. Our girls are more sheltered and guarded, and it is only natural that they should have a different style from those who must hold their own. I wish I could have introduced you to some of my bright young Australian friends. I think you would find the same charm about them that I do."

Miss Barlow had many hints to give them on the subject of camp cookery.

She showed the girls the quickest and most practical way to build a fire, and the right situation to choose for it as regards shelter.