CHAPTER III
The Emigrants
"Oh, Nealie, it is a most beautiful ship, and bigger than BodsteadChurch!" cried Ducky, rushing up to her eldest sister and flingingherself into the arms held out to her. She and Sylvia had rushed belowto find their berths, while Nealie was still standing on deck by theside of Mr. Runciman, who had himself escorted them to London to seethem safely on board the big liner which was to take them to Sydney.
Events had marched so fast in the last fortnight that sometimes Nealiehad wondered if she were really dreaming. For the first time in her lifeshe was realizing what a lot of things money can do. Mr. Runciman hadtold her that Aunt Judith had left a little money to be used for thebenefit of the seven. He had not told her how much it was, but hadmerely said it would be enough to cover the cost of their journey, andso they could start as soon as they pleased. And because of the fearthere was in her heart lest her father should send word they were notto come, she had declared that she was ready to set off as soon asberths could be secured for them.
Perhaps Mr. Runciman was also afraid that Dr. Plumstead would cable thatthey were not to come, for he certainly spared neither time nor money tofacilitate their going, using so much energy in the preparations thathis servants were about equally divided in calling him hard names forhis eagerness to rid himself of a heavy burden and in praising hisgenerosity in making the way so easy for the seven to go to theirfather.
Just at the last it had been quite hard to say goodbye to the old homeat Beechleigh and all the people they had known there. So standing onthe deck of the ocean-going liner Nealie was thankful that it was allover, and that at last she was free from the necessity to say any moregoodbyes. Any more save one, that is, for there was still the farewellto Mr. Runciman to be faced, and she was dreading this with a very realshrinking as she stood so quietly by his side, while the others ran upand down exploring their new quarters and exclaiming in delight at thebustle and novelty all around them.
"Now mind, Cornelia, if when you land at Sydney you find that you havenot sufficient money, you must not hesitate to cable to me, and I shallbe most willing to cable you back what you may require," said Mr.Runciman impressively, and because of the kindness in his tone Nealieforgave him calling her Cornelia.
"Thank you very much, but I am sure that we ought not to need any more,and I will be very, very careful not to waste our funds," she said,smiling up at him, but her lips quivered a little in spite of herdetermination to maintain a Spartan-like control of her emotions.
"Money melts when you are travelling, and you are all such babies in thematter of finance. Let me see what I have in my pocket," he said,thrusting his hand in and tugging out a bulky purse from some mysteriousinner depths. "Three, five, seven, ten. Yes, I can let you have tenpounds. Put it in your pocket and say nothing about it. If you do notneed it for your journey you can keep it as a little gift from me andspend it for your own pleasure."
"You are so very kind, I cannot think what we should have done withoutyou in getting away; you seem to have forgotten nothing, and I am surethat Father will be most grateful to you," she said, looking at him withso much trust and affection in her eyes that his conscience pricked himdreadfully for what he knew to be his selfish eagerness to shift a heavyburden on to the shoulders of someone else.
SAYING GOODBYE TO MR. RUNCIMAN]
"It is no great virtue to be kind to you, child; indeed it would be ahard heart that would be anything else," he said in a deeply moved tone;and because the bell began to ring then, in warning to people to leavethe ship, he took both her hands in his, and, leaning down, kissed heron the forehead; then with a nod in the direction of the others, who atthe sound of the bell had gathered round to bid him a civil goodbye, hedisappeared down the gangway and was lost to view in the crowd.
"The old chappy cut up quite decent at the last. I expect it was thatlittle poem of mine which fetched him," said Rumple, who was struttinground like a peacock in a new suit of clothes and feeling himselfsomeone of importance.
"Hush, dear, don't call him names, I do not like it," said Nealie withgentle dignity, while she struggled with her tears.
"Are you crying over saying goodbye to Mr. Runciman?" asked Sylvia in awondering tone. "I thought we all made up our minds ages ago that he wasreally an unmitigated nuisance?"
"We have had to suspend judgment a bit of late in his direction," put inRupert, coming to the rescue, for he guessed that Nealie did not want totalk just then, not even in defence of Mr. Runciman.
"I think there is more in him than we know," said Rumple in apatronizing tone. "At any rate he had the sense to like my verses, andthat shows that he is not altogether callous; he even said that it wasclever of me to find such a nice rhyme for Runciman."
"How does that first line go?" asked Rupert, still intent on shieldingNealie, who had walked to the side, and, with tear-blinded eyes, waswatching the gangways being lifted.
Rumple instantly struck an attitude, screwed his face into what hecalled an intense expression, and, waving one arm like a semaphore,declaimed in loud, clear tones:
"Oh, Runciman, dear Runciman, You've proved yourself a gentleman, Both in pocket and in sense, For your care to send us hence; And we join in three times three, May your shadow ne'er less be."
"Hip, hip, hooray!" yelled Billykins, waving his cap; then Don and Duckycheered lustily also, and the sound of the jubilant shouting reached theears of Mr. Runciman as he stood on the shore and watched the big shipglide slowly from the land.
Nealie went down to the cabin then, meaning to have a hearty good cry byway of relieving her feelings; but Ducky ran down with her to show herhow delightfully cosy their quarters were, and there was so much to beseen and admired on every hand that, on second thoughts, Nealie decidedto let the crying stand over until she went to bed, by which time shewas so sleepy that she entirely forgot about it.
By the kindness of Mr. Runciman the three girls had a four-berth cabinto themselves; for, realizing how trying it would be for them to have astranger thrust in among them, he had paid the extra so that they mightbe undisturbed. The four boys had also a four-berth cabin, which openeda little farther along the lower deck; so they were all quite neartogether, and speedily made themselves at home.
Don and Billykins made up their minds to be sailors long before theywere out of the Thames, and although they changed their minds when theygot a terrific tossing in the Bay of Biscay, their bearing was strictlynautical right through the voyage.
Rupert and Sylvia were the only two who did not suffer from seasickness,but, as Sylvia remarked, it was not all fun being immune, because theyhad such hard work in waiting upon the others. However, the end of theweek found them all upon their feet again, and very much disposed toenjoy the novelty of life at sea.
Nealie and Don sang duets, to which Rupert played accompaniments on thebanjo, while Ducky and Billykins led the applause, and Sylvia posed asaudience, aping the languid, bored look of a fine lady at a concert withsuch inimitable mimicry that she came in for nearly as much applause asthe proper performers from such of the other passengers as gatheredround to hear.
Then Rumple would do his share towards entertaining the company bydeclaiming his own poetry, and he was so funny to look at when he stoodon one foot, with his face screwed into puckers, and his arms wavingwildly above his head, that his performance used to evoke shouts oflaughter.
"I can't think what makes the silly goats guffaw at such a rate when Irecite my 'Ode to a Dying Sparrow'," he said in a petulant tone toNealie, one day when his audience had been more than usually convulsed."It must be shocking bad form to double up in public as they did; aphotograph of them would have served as an up-to-date advertisement ofthe latest thing in gramaphones, and when I came to that touching line,about the poor bird sighing out its last feeble chirp ere it closed itseyes and died, those two very fat women simply howled."
"Dear, they could not help it, you did look so funny, and--I don't thinkthat dying
birds sigh, at least I never heard them, and I have seenquite a lot of Mrs. Puffin's chickens die," replied Nealie, who wasstruggling with her own laughter at the remembrance of the comicattitude which Rumple had struck. He was a queer-looking boy at thebest, and then he always went in for the most extraordinary gestures,so it was not wonderful that people found food for mirth in watchinghim.
"I shall not go in for pathetic poetry with an audience who cannotappreciate fine shades of feeling," he said in a disgusted fashion. "Iwill just get away by myself and throw a few thoughts together which mayprove suitable to their intelligence."
"That would be a good idea," said Nealie in a rather choky voice, andthen, when he had gone, she put her head down on her hands, laughing andlaughing, until someone touched her shoulder, to ask her in kindly pitywhat she was crying for.
That was really the last straw, and Nealie gurgled and choked as if shewere going to have a very bad fit of hysterics, which made thesympathizer--a kind-looking elderly man--still more concerned on heraccount.
"My dear, shall I call the stewardess, or one of your friends, to helpyou?" he asked, with so much anxiety on her account that Nealie wasinstantly sobered, and proceeded to explain the situation.
"You see, Rumple, that is my brother, always does take himself and hispoetry so seriously; but the worst of it is that everyone who hears himrecite his own things fancies it is the latest idea in comedy, and theylaugh accordingly."
"And I have been watching you for the last five minutes, until I couldno longer bear to see you, as I thought, in such trouble, and that waswhy I spoke to you," the gentleman said, scarcely able to make up hismind whether he was vexed with her for having so innocently deceivedhim, or whether he was only relieved to find himself mistaken.
"You must think us all very foolish and childish, I am afraid," Nealiemurmured in apology. "But the children must have amusement, and we arealways interested in what we can each do. Some of Rumple's verses arequite nice, although, of course, others are pure nonsense."
"Just so, just so; young folks must have something to amuse them, and itis very much to the credit of you all that you are so thoroughly amusedby it, and I do not remember that I have ever heard you quarrel sinceyou came on board," the gentleman said in a musing tone.
"We do not quarrel," rejoined Nealie with quite crushing dignity, forreally the idea sounded almost insulting in her ears.
"Then you as a family must be the eighth wonder of the world, I shouldthink, for I never heard of a family yet who did not have an occasionalrow," he said in an amused tone.
"Oh, but we are different; and besides we only have each other, and sowe cannot afford to disagree," she replied earnestly.
"Are you orphans, and going to Australia alone?" he asked in greatsurprise.
"Oh no, we are not orphans; that is, our father is living in New SouthWales, and we are going out to him, but we have not seen him for sevenyears. Indeed, Ducky, that is my youngest sister, may be said not tohave seen him at all, as she was only four weeks old when he went away;the little boys do not remember him very well either. But Rupert,Sylvia, and I can remember him perfectly," replied Nealie.
"It is certain that he will not know you if he has not seen you forseven years," said the gentleman; and then he asked, with a great dealof interest in his tone: "and are you travelling all that distancewithout a chaperon of any sort?"
"I have my brothers, and I do not need anyone else," she answered,looking up at him in surprise at his question. "I have always had totake care of myself, for our great-aunt, with whom we lived, was veryold and feeble; for two years before she died she did not leave herroom, so it would not have done for me to require taking care of, seeingthat it was not possible for anyone to spare time to look after me."
"I think that you must be a very remarkable young lady, for I thoughtthat all girls required someone to take care of them, unless they werecolonials that is, and you are not that," he said, in the manner of onewho seeks information.
"No, we are only going to be," she said, with a happy little laugh, forit was fine to have achieved one's heart's desire with so little delayin the getting, and she was setting her face towards the new and untriedlife with radiant happiness in her heart.
"I am going to Cape Town, so I shall have to say goodbye to you whenyour voyage is only half done, although it would have been a greatpleasure to me to have seen you safely ashore and in the care of yourfather. Does he meet you in Sydney?" asked the gentleman, when he hadtold Nealie that his name was Melrose, and that he was at the bottom asEnglish as she was herself.
"I don't know; I suppose he will, for Mr. Runciman would have written totell him the name of the ship we were coming by," said Nealie; but nowthere was a dubious note in her tone, for she was trying to rememberwhether Mr. Runciman had said anything about having written to herfather. She had thought of writing herself, but had refrained from doingit because of the feeling of hurt pride which was still strong upon her,as it had been ever since she read the letter which was not meant forher.
"What will you do if he does not?" asked Mr. Melrose.
"Oh, we shall find our way out to Hammerville! That is the name of theplace where he lives. There are seven of us, you see; it is not as if wewere just one or two," she answered brightly.
"Hammerville? I wonder whether that is the Hammerville in theMurrumbidgee district, where Tom Fletcher went to live?" said Mr.Melrose in a musing fashion. "They have a little way of repeating namesin these colonial places which is rather distracting. But Fletcher toldme that the Hammerville to which he went was nearly three hundred milesfrom Sydney."
"I suppose there is a railway?" queried Nealie, knitting her brows, andwondering how they were all to be transported for three hundred milesacross an unknown country, in the event of there being no railway bywhich they could travel.
"I suppose the rail would go a point nearer than three hundred miles,unless indeed the place is quite at the back of beyond, as some of thoseAustralian towns are," replied Mr. Melrose. "But Fletcher told me thathe hired a horse and wagon and drove the whole distance, sleeping in thewagon at night to save hotel charges."
"Oh, what a perfectly charming thing to do!" cried Sylvia, who had comeup behind and was leaning over the back of Nealie's chair. "If Father isnot waiting to meet us when we reach Sydney, shall we hire a horse and awagon and drive out to Hammerville, Nealie?"
"It would be very jolly," said Nealie, with shining eyes. "I have alwayslonged to go caravanning, but I expect the difficulty would be to findanyone willing to hire a horse and wagon to entire strangers likeourselves; and if Hammerville is so far from Sydney, Father would hardlybe known so far away, even though he is a doctor."
"Did you say your father is a doctor?" asked Mr. Melrose, who was verymuch interested in this adventurous family, who seemed so well able totake care of themselves, and were roaming about the world without eventhe pretence of a guardian to look after them.
"Yes; he is Dr. Plumstead. Have you heard of him?" asked Sylvia, withthe happy belief in her father's greatness which was characteristic ofthem all.
"I used to know a Dr. Plumstead some years ago, but I do not expect itwas the same," said Mr. Melrose, looking as if he were going to saysomething more, and then suddenly changing his mind.
It was some days later, and they were nearing Cape Town, which was thehalfway house of their journey, when Mr. Melrose, who had been keepinghis cabin from illness, appeared again on deck, and, seeking Nealie out,laid an addressed envelope in her hand.
"It is the privilege of friends to help each other," he said quietly. "Iknow a man in Sydney who lets horses and wagons on hire, and I haveventured to give you a letter to him from myself, so that you may haveno difficulty in hiring a conveyance for the journey to Hammerville ifyour father does not meet you."
"How very kind you are!" exclaimed Nealie.
He waved an impatient hand. "It is nothing, nothing. I may even becoming to New South Wales next year, if only my health is better, an
dthen I shall do myself the pleasure of finding you out and renewing ouracquaintance," he said.
"That will be very pleasant," replied Nealie, her hand closing upon theletter. "Then we can introduce you to Father, and tell him how kind youhave been to us."
"We shall see; but I fancy the indebtedness is on my side," he answered,and then he turned abruptly away.
Nealie looked at him a little wistfully. He was so very friendly andkind up to a certain point; but when that was reached he was in thehabit of retiring into himself, and she was left out in the cold.
"What is the matter, old girl?" asked Rupert, who came up at thatmoment, and noticed the cloud on Nealie's face.
"I was only thinking how much nicer it would be if we could know whatwas in the minds of people, and whether they were really friendly allthrough, or only pretending," she answered, with a sigh.
"Rather a tall order that would be," said Rupert, laughing. "Why, allthe rogues would stand betrayed, and honest folk would get the credit oftheir good intentions. The world would be turned upside down in short!"
"I suppose it would," replied Nealie, shaking her head, and then shelaughed too.