CHAPTER IV
Rumple's Discovery
Day after day of unbroken fine weather followed. There was the halt oftwelve hours at Cape Town, and the seven earnestly desired to be allowedto go ashore. But the captain refused to allow them off the vessel, asthey had been placed in his charge by Mr. Runciman, and so they had tocontent themselves with gazing at Table Mountain from the deck of theship, or rather at the tablecloth, as the brooding cloud was called,which hid the mountain from their view.
The shipping in the bay, and the distant glimpses of the town, gave themplenty to look at, however; and although the little boys and Rumple werein a state of simmering rebellion against the dictates of the kindly butrather autocratic commander, Rupert and Nealie were so well amused thatthey had no room for grumbling, while Sylvia had taken to drawing as apastime, and spent the hours in making an ambitious sketch of the scene.It was a little out in drawing, naturally as she had had no lessons, andit was difficult to determine whether the ships were sailing up TableMountain, or the houses taking short voyages across the bay; but she wasso thoroughly happy and satisfied with her performance that it wouldhave been almost cruel to have found any fault with it; and, as Rupertsaid, there was the fun of finding out whether any particular objectstood for a ship, a warehouse, or a clump of trees, the fun beingincreased when the artist herself was not sure on the subject.
When they were a week out from Cape Town the weather changed and becamewet and stormy. The rolling was dreadful, and great was the groaning andthe lamentation when they were not allowed on deck for three whole daysin succession.
The fourth day broke without wind, although the sea was still veryrough. But, having gained permission to go on deck, the three youngerboys were out, steadying themselves by anything which came handy, andvastly enjoying the fun of seeing other people lurching about in allsorts of funny antics, all involuntary ones of course.
Then suddenly something happened which might easily have been a tragedy.Rumple and Billykins were rounding the curve of one of the lower decks,when a heavy sea struck the vessel as she pitched nose first down into adeep valley of foam, and a stout old lady, who had been rashly tryingto ascend the stairs to the upper deck, was hit by the shower of sprayand knocked off the stairs. She must have fallen with great violence,and would probably have been very badly hurt, had it not been forRumple, who ran in to her, as if she had been an extra big cricket ballwhich he was trying to catch. Of course she descended upon him with anawful smash, and nearly knocked the wind out of him, and equally ofcourse they both rolled over together, and were drenched by the showersof spray. But he had broken her fall, and although she was badly shakenthere were no limbs broken, as there must have been had she fallen withfull force on to the slippery boards. A steward who was passing ran topick up the old lady, while a passenger sorted Rumple out from under theold lady's skirts, and, draining some of the water out of him, held himup so that the air might revive him.
Meanwhile Billykins, who had been a horrified spectator of his brother'srash heroism, and had remained speechless until Rumple was picked up,burst into the very noisiest crying of which he was capable, and,standing with his legs very wide apart and his mouth as far open as itwould go, howled his very loudest, the sound of his woe speedilybringing a crowd to see what was the matter.
"I don't think that he is very much the worse for his fall, only alittle bit dazed by having the old lady come flop down upon him; but ifhe had not been there to break her fall, it is quite likely that shewould have broken her neck," said the gentleman who had picked Rumpleup, as he handed him over to the care of Nealie.
"Poor, poor boy, how frightened he must have been when she fell uponhim!" cried Nealie, who thought that the whole affair was an accident,and had no idea of Rumple's bravery.
Then Billykins promptly stopped howling to explain, which he did injerks, being rather breathless from his vocal efforts.
"Rumple saw her fall, and rushed in to save her. It was just splendidheroism--the sort that gets the Victoria Cross; but so dreadful hopelessyou see, because she was so big, and she came down flop on the top ofhim, and he was just--just extinguished, you know, like the candle flamewhen we used to put the tin extinguishers on them when we lived atBeechleigh."
"I'll be all right in a minute, only my wind is gone," gasped Rumple,who looked rather flattened, and was not at all pleased to find himselfmomentarily famous.
The old lady's daughter, a thin, angular person with a long nose, rushedup at this juncture, and, seizing upon Rumple, hugged and kissed him inthe presence of everyone, declaring that she would always love him forhaving saved her dear mother's life in such a noble fashion.
"I am wet through, Nealie; help me to get into dry clothes," pantedRumple, struggling to escape from this unexpected and wholly unwelcomeembrace.
Nealie rose to the occasion, and swept him off to their own quarters,where Rupert met them and undertook the task of getting him rubbed downand into dry clothes as quickly as possible, while Nealie went back tothe deck for news of the old lady.
Everyone was full of praises of Rumple's action in breaking the oldlady's fall; but Nealie was secretly uneasy as to whether he hadreceived more damage from the impact than had at first appeared. So,when she had been assured that Mrs. Barrow, who apparently weighed aboutfourteen stone, was only shaken, and not otherwise hurt, she hurriedback again to satisfy herself that Rumple was sound in wind and limb.
She found Rupert hanging the wet garments up to drain, and was talkingto him about Rumple, when the door of the boys' cabin was pushed openand they heard Rumple calling to them in a tone of such dismay that asudden cold shiver went all over Nealie, making her turn white to thelips.
"Something is wrong; come along, Nealie," said Rupert curtly, and heturned to limp toward the door of the cabin, which stood ajar.
But Nealie passed him with a fleet tread, and, pushing open the door,stood on the threshold transfixed with surprise. It was not clear to herwhat she expected to see, her one thought being that Rumple mustcertainly have been much more hurt than they had imagined.
What she did see was Rumple sitting on the lower berth partly dressed,and holding a letter in his hand, a letter which had a stamp upon itwhich had not been through a post office, but that even at the firstglance struck her as having a familiar look, a something she had seenbefore.
"Rumple, what is it? What is the matter, laddie?" she asked in the verytenderest tone of which she was capable; for there was that in his facewhich warned her the trouble was one of magnitude.
"I don't expect that you will any of you ever be able to forgive me, andI haven't a word to say in excuse, and however I came to be such a goatI can't think," he replied in a shaken tone as he held the envelope outfor her to take.
But even now she did not understand, and only stared at it in a stupidfashion, then read the address aloud in a bewildered tone:
"Dr. Plumstead, "Hammerville, "Clayton, "New South Wales, "Australia."
"What letter is it?" asked Rupert in a shocked voice. He was standingclose to Nealie now, and looking to the full as amazed as she didherself.
"It is the letter that Mr. Runciman wrote to tell Father that we were tobe sent out to him," replied Rumple in a hollow tone. "Don't youremember that we asked to be allowed to post it ourselves, just becausewe were so afraid that he would forget to write it unless we waiteduntil it was done? And now it is just the same as if it had never beenwritten at all."
Twice, three times, Nealie tried to speak, but no sound came, and sheplumped down upon the berth beside Rumple with a shocked bewildermentupon her face which was dreadful to see.
"Don't look like that, Nealie; buck up, old lady, we'll find a way outof the muddle somehow," said Rupert, slapping her on the back, with aharsh laugh that had a weird sound; it was so far removed frommerriment.
But Nealie only shook her head, as much as to say that it was quitebeyond her power to do anything in the way of bucking up just then, andthey
were all three staring at each other in dismayed silence, whenthere came a rush of feet outside, and the door was flung open by Don,who was followed by Sylvia and Ducky, while Billykins, still snortingheavily, brought up the rear.
"Billykins told us how brave Rumple had been in saving the life of thatfat old woman----" began Sylvia, then stopped suddenly, scared by thelook on the faces of the three; then she asked in a hushed tone: "Oh,whatever can be the matter! Is Rumple very badly hurt?"
"I am not hurt at all, except in my feelings," replied Rumple, who wasnursing his old jacket, as if it were a troublesome infant which he hadto put to sleep.
"Was she horrid to you? And after you had saved her life, fourteen stoneof it?" demanded Sylvia, with a stormy note in her tone.
"It is not the woman at all," here Rumple waved the old jacket with atragic air. "The fault lies with me, and you had all better know aboutit at once, and if you decide to disown me for the future, I can'tcomplain, for I deserve to be sent to Coventry for evermore."
"Oh, drop your figures of speech, and tell us in plain English what thetrouble is all about!" exclaimed Sylvia impatiently. "Nealie looks asif she had seen a ghost, and Rupert is glum, so out with it, Rumple, oldboy, and own up like a man."
"I have owned up," he answered gloomily, and again he waved the oldjacket to and fro, then hugged it closely in his arms again. "When Ichanged my clothes I thought that I would put this jacket on, though itis rather tight across the back, and I always hate wearing it for thatreason. I have not put it on since the day we all went down to thePaddock to ask Mr. Runciman to send us to Australia. We stopped eatingcakes in the housekeeper's room, you remember, and then when he hadwritten the letter he sent it to us to put in the post as we came home.It was given to me. I put it in my pocket, and here it is!"
Sylvia gasped as if a whole bucket of water had suddenly been shot overher from some unexpected quarter, and then she burst into a ringinglaugh, and clapped her hands. "Oh, what a joke! Then I suppose thatFather has not a notion that his family are on the way to make himhappy?"
"That is about it, and whatever we can do to get out of the muddle ismore than I can imagine," said Rupert in a strained tone, while his facelooked pinched and worn from the burden of worry that had suddenlydescended upon him.
"Do?" cried Sylvia. "Why, of course we shall just do as we are doing,and go straight forward, until we reach Hammerville, when we will walkin upon dear Father some fine evening, and announce our own arrival.Nothing could be simpler, and we shall give him the surprise of hislife, bless his heart! There is no need to look so tragic that I cansee."
"But we must tell the captain, and there will be a great fuss. He willvery likely keep us on board ship until Father can reach Sydney to claimus," said Nealie in a voice of distress.
"We won't tell the captain; he is as meddlesome as an old woman!" criedSylvia, who very much resented the commander's kindly meant endeavoursto take care of them.
"He would not let us go ashore at Cape Town, and I did so want to go tothe top of Table Mountain, and see for myself what the tablecloth wasmade of," said Don in an aggrieved tone. His ideas of distance wererather vague, and he had an impression that half an hour's brisk walkingfrom the docks at Cape Town would have landed him on the top of themountain.
"No, we won't tell the captain, we certainly won't," put in Billykins,with a mutinous look on his chubby face. He had had his own views on theway in which he had meant to spend the time ashore, and having oneshilling and threepence in his pocket, to spend as he chose, had laidout a pretty full programme for the occasion.
"We won't tell the captain; I don't like him, because he calls me Gooseyinstead of Ducky," pouted the youngest of the family, who had had herfeelings very much hurt on more than one occasion, and was simplythirsting for revenge upon the disturber of her peace.
"Do you hear? The majority have decided on silence," said Sylviatriumphantly, as she sat down by the side of Nealie, and slipped her armround her sister's waist.
"Oh, I don't know what to do, and it was dreadful of Rumple to forget!"cried Nealie, and at the reproach in her words Rumple fairly doubled up,muttering, in a resigned fashion:
"Lay it on, and spare not. There is one comfort about the beastlybusiness, you cannot blame me more than I blame myself."
"It might have been worse," said Sylvia, who always championed Rumplethrough thick and thin. "And of course no one expects quite so much froma poet as from a more ordinary person. People with teeming ideas arealways rather absent-minded I find; it is one of the penalties of theartistic temperament. I suffer from it myself, and Rumple is farcleverer than I am."
"I don't know about that; you have got the colour sense, even thoughyou don't seem to get the hang of perspective," said Rumple, lookingvisibly cheered. "When I begin to sell my poems you shall have the moneyto have lessons in art, old girl, for I fancy you are worth developing."
"I hope I am," rejoined Sylvia, tossing her head with a saucy air. "ButI am afraid that the process will be rather delayed if it has to waituntil your poetry brings the money for doing it, for everyone says thatthere is no money in poetry. Now, Nealie, darling, do cheer up and behappy; poor Rumple will have no peace at all while you look like that."
"I will try; but you must give me time. But I am so disappointed, for Ihad hoped that Father would be at Sydney to meet us," answered Nealie,with a sigh.