CHAPTER IX.
SILVERSANDS TOWER.
"Say, what deeds of ancient valour Do thy ruined walls recall?"
Four o'clock on the next afternoon found Belle tapping at the door ofthe little back sitting-room in No. 4 with a very important face.
"Why, what's the matter?" she exclaimed, as she entered in response toMrs. Stewart's "Come in," for Isobel was sitting in the big armchairpropped up with cushions, looking as limp as a rag and as white as asmall ghost.
"It's only one of her bad headaches," replied Mrs. Stewart; "I think itmust be the heat. She ought not to have played cricket this morning inthe blazing sun.--No, Isobel, you mustn't try to get up. Belle may sithere and talk to you for a few minutes, but I'm afraid I can't ask herto stay long."
"I'm _so_ sorry!" said Belle, sitting down on the arm of the big chairand squeezing her friend's hand. "I've brought an invitation. It'smother's birthday on Saturday, and she's going to give a picnic atSilversands Tower, and ask all the Sea Urchins. Won't it be splendidfun? You simply _must_ be better by then. It will be quite a largeparty: Mr. Chester and a good many other grown-up people arecoming.--Mother wonders if your foot will be well enough, Mrs. Stewart?She would be so pleased to see you, if you don't mind so many children."
"Thank you, dear; but I can scarcely manage to hobble on to the beach atpresent," replied Mrs. Stewart, "so I fear it is out of the question forme, much as I should have enjoyed it. Isobel, of course, will be onlytoo delighted to accept. I believe the very thought of it is chasingaway her headache."
"We're to drive there on two coaches," said Belle, "and have tea in theruins, and afterwards we can play games or ramble about in the woods.There'll be twelve grown-up people and twenty children. We didn't invitethe Wrights' baby, because mother said it was too young, and she reallycouldn't stand it. She's asked all the Rokebys, even Cecil, though he_is_ rather a handful sometimes; but Mr. Rokeby's coming, I expect, andhe'll keep him in order. The Wrights are bringing an aunt who's justarrived back from a visit to Paris. I'm afraid we shall scarcely getthem to talk English. And Mrs. Barrington hasn't decided yet whethershe'll let Ruth and Edna go--she says it depends upon how they do theirhealth exercises; but they're going to try and get their father topersuade her. Well, I mustn't stay now if your head aches, but I'm veryglad you can come; I think we shall have a glorious time, and I _do_hope Saturday will be fine."
Not one of the numerous members of the Sea Urchins' Club could have beenmore anxious for a brilliant day than Isobel. She tapped the glass inthe hall with much solicitude, and even paid a visit to her friend thecoastguard to inquire his opinion as to the state of the weather; andhaving carefully examined a threatening bank of clouds through histelescope, and ascertained that the objectionable little sailor waspeeping from his barometer, she came home in rather low spirits, inspite of his assurances that "if it did splash a bit, it wouldn't benowt." Luckily her fears proved groundless. Saturday turned outeverything that could be desired in the way of sun and breeze, and twoo'clock found a very excited group of children gathered outside MarineTerrace, where two yellow coaches, hired specially from Ferndale for theoccasion, were in waiting to drive the party to the Tower.
Barton, Mrs. Stuart's maid, was busy packing the insides with baskets oftea-cups and hampers of provisions, and some of the smaller boys hadalready climbed to the top with a view of securing the box-seats, whencethey were speedily evicted by the younger guard, who had his own notionsabout reserving the best places, and who, having already had a scufflewith Arnold Rokeby on the subject of the unauthorized blowing of hishorn, was disposed to resent undue interference with his privileges.There were quite enough older people to keep the children in order,which seemed a fortunate thing, to judge from the effervescing nature oftheir spirits. Mrs. Stuart had invited several of her friends, among thenumber an athletic young curate named Mr. Browne, who tucked both Arnoldand Bertie Rokeby easily under one arm, and held them there as in avice, while he dangled Charlie Chester in mid-air with the other hand--afeat of prowess which so excited their admiration that they clung to himlike burrs for the rest of the afternoon. The Wrights had turned up infull force, with the aunt and mademoiselle, and were commenting upon thehorses and the general arrangements in their best English-French; whileeven the little Barringtons had been allowed, after all, to join thefun, though at the last moment, much to Ruth's disgust, their motherhad decided to accompany them, to see that they did not race about inthe sun or eat indigestible delicacies.
It took a long time to settle all the guests in their seats, and to stowaway the lively members of the party where they could not get intomischief, yet would not interfere with the comfort of their moresober-minded elders, was as difficult a problem as the well-known puzzleof the fox, the goose, and the bag of corn; but eventually things werearranged to everybody's satisfaction. Bertie Rokeby, who had announcedhis intention of taking the journey hanging on to the leather strap atthe back beside the guard, was safely wedged between his long-sufferingmother and the jovial curate; while Charlie Chester had been allowed toscrew into a spare six inches of box-seat next to the driver, who heldout a half-promise that he might hold the reins going uphill. The wholecompany seemed in the gayest of spirits and the most sociable of moods.Mr. Chester, who was something of a wag, kept both coaches in a roarwith his jokes, and a fashionably-dressed young lady in pince-nez, whohad looked rather unapproachable at first, proved to have her pocketsoverflowing with chocolates, which she distributed with a liberal hand,and was voted by the boys in consequence a "regular out-and-outer."
The last comers being at length seated, and the last forgotten basketput inside, the guards blew their horns, the drivers whipped up, and thetwo coaches set off with a dash, to the admiration of all the visitorsin Marine Terrace, and the rejoicing of a small crowd of barefooted boysfrom the town, who had assembled to watch the start, and who randiligently for nearly half a mile behind them shouting, "A 'alfpenny!Give us a 'alfpenny!" with irritating monotony, and eluding the skilfullashes of the coachmen's long whips with considerable agility. It wasnot a very great distance to the Tower, and the children thought thedrive far too short, and were quite loath, indeed, to come down when thehorses stopped before the gray old gateway, and the guards, who had beenrivalling one another in solos on the horn, joined in a farewell duet tothe appropriate air of "Meet me again in the evening."
The ruined castle made a charming spot for an out-door party. Situatedat the foot of a tall wooded hill called the Scar, its battered wallsfaced the long valley to the north, up which in the olden days a strictwatch must have been kept for Border raiders. The ancient turreted keep,with its tiny loophole windows, was still standing, half covered withivy, the hairy stems of which were as thick as small trees, and a narrowwinding staircase led on to the battlements, from whence you might see,on the one hand, the green slopes of the woods, and on the other theyellow cliffs which bounded the blue waters of the bay. Inside the keepwas a large square courtyard, where in times gone by the neighbouringfarmers would often drive their cattle for safety when the gleam of theScottish pikes and the smoke of burning roofs were seen to northward.The heavy portcullis hung yet in the gateway, and though the drawbridgewas long ago gone, and the moat was dry, the fragments of an outer walland a portion of a barbican remained to show how powerful a protectionwas needed in the days when might was right, and each man must guard hisgoods by the strength of his own hand. The courtyard now was coveredwith short green grass spangled with daisies, where a pair of tameravens were solemnly hopping about, while the ivy was the home ofinnumerable jackdaws that flapped away at the approach of strangers,uttering their funny spoilt "caw," as if indignant at having theirhaunts disturbed.
Visitors were admitted to the castle by an old woman, who looked almostas ancient as the ruin itself, and who insisted upon giving a fullaccount of the dimensions, situation, and history of the place, whichshe had learnt from the guide-book, and which she repeated in a high,sing-song voice, without any paus
es or stops, as if she were saying alesson. She followed the various members of the party for some time,trying to make them keep together and listen to her explanations; but asthey much preferred to explore on their own account, she was obliged tosubside at last to her little kitchen under the archway, and employherself in the more practical business of boiling the water for tea. Allthe guests were very soon distributed about the ruins, some admiring theview from the battlements, some peering into the darkness of thedungeons, and others trying to re-people the guardroom and thebanqueting-hall with knights and dames of old, and to imagine the clinkof armour and the clash of swords in the courtyard below. The Rokebyboys were imperilling their limbs by a climb after jackdaws' nests,oblivious of the fact that it was long past the season for eggs, andthe young birds, already in glossy black plumage, were flying round asif in mockery at their efforts. Austin Wright, after a vain attempt toestablish an acquaintance with the ravens, had been seen racing as iffor his life with the pair in hot pursuit of his small bare legs; whileCharlie Chester, in an essay to investigate the interior of the well,very nearly fell to the bottom, being only saved by the tail of hisjacket, which luckily caught on a prickly bramble bush, and held himsuspended over the dark gulf till he was rescued by his indignantfather.
In the meantime tea had been spread in the courtyard. Two great hissingurns were carried from the kitchen and placed upon the grass, and bothgrown-ups and children, abandoning the study of mediaeval history or thepursuit of jackdaws, collected together to discuss sandwiches, cakes,and jam puffs, in spite of Mr. Chester's laughing protestations thatsuch modern luxuries were out of place, and an ox roasted whole or a reddeer pasty would have been a more appropriate feast for the occasion.Even the ravens came hopping round at the sight of the cups and plates,and waxed quite friendly on the strength of sundry pieces of bun andbread and butter, which they snapped up with voracious bills, growingtoo forward, indeed, as the meal progressed, for they stole the curate'startlet, which he had laid down in an unguarded moment on the grass, andshamelessly snatched Bertie Rokeby's sponge-cake out of his very hand.
"I'm sure the Wrights enjoyed themselves," Isobel told her motherafterwards. "Harold had seven rice buns and ten victoria biscuits, andCharlotte and Aggie ate a whole plateful of cheese-cakes between them.Belle says they always have the most enormous appetites, and at her lastparty Eric took four helpings of turkey; he just gulped it down, andkept handing up his plate while the others were eating their firstserving, and after that he tasted every different dish on the table.It's a great trial for the Wrights to go to parties at the Barringtons;they never get half enough supper, though they have the most delightfulmagic lanterns and conjurers. Ruth and Edna were scarcely allowed to eatanything at tea. Mrs. Barrington picked all the raisins out of Edna'sbun, and made Ruth put back the jam tart she'd just taken. She said ifthey were really hungry they might eat some plasmon biscuits she hadbrought with her, but they mustn't touch pastry; and Ruth was so savage,she filled her pocket with queen-cakes when her mother wasn'tlooking--she said she didn't mean to come away without having tastedanything nice after all."
If the Barringtons were obliged to rise with unsatisfied appetites, thesame certainly could not be said of the other guests; the piles of goodthings disappeared with much rapidity, and at last even the insatiableEric Wright declined another bun. It was at this point that Mrs. Stuartproduced a special basket, which she had reserved for a final surprise,and raising the lid, disclosed a row of marvellous little cakes, eachmade in the exact form of a sea urchin, with spines of white sugar, andthe inside filled with vanilla cream.
"It's a delicate compliment to the Sea Urchins' Club," she said. "It wasmy own idea. I sent to my confectioner at home, and asked him what hecould manage in the matter. I think he has carried it out very well. Thecakes look so natural, you could almost imagine they had been fished outof the water."
Quite a howl of delight went up from the young guests, who had neverseen such appropriate confectionery before, and the basket was handedround by Belle amid a chorus of thanks, the United Sea Urchins consumingtheir own effigies with much appreciation, even Ruth and Edna, at thespecial request of Mrs. Stuart, being allowed for once to share thetreat, though only on the distinct understanding that they submittedpeaceably to a dose of Gregory's powder if the unwonted daintiesdisagreed with them.
Tea being over, the party broke up to amuse itself in various ways, mostof the children playing at hide-and-seek among the crumbling walls, orchasing each other up the winding staircase, while a few moreadventurous spirits took the opportunity of exploring the dungeons witha candle. It was deliciously creepy down there; you could still see theiron stanchions by which the wretched prisoners had been chained to thewall, and the little hole through which their daily portions of food hadbeen handed in to them, and could imagine, if you were fond of recallingthe past, how from their beds of straw they would watch the light fadingfrom the tiny barred window, and shiver as they heard the rats gnawingat the stout oak door, or felt a toad crawl over their feet in the murkydarkness. Some of the grown-ups had been busy marking out bounds in thecourtyard, and soon enlisted every one in an exciting game of prisoner'sbase. Mr. Chester and the curate made the most successful captains,directing the proceedings with great spirit, and sometimes by a bolddash rescuing the more important of their prisoners, and Bertie Rokebycovered himself with glory by quietly walking to the "prison" while theopposite side was occupied in a hardly-contested struggle, andunsuspectedly freeing all the captives one by one. It was warm work,however, on a hot August day, and after a time the Wrights, never goodrunners, subsided, panting, on to a piece of ruined wall, and even theenthusiastic curate, who had pulled off his coat, and was prosecutingthe game in his shirt sleeves, began to show signs of flagging zeal.
"I'm done up!" cried Mr. Chester at last, flinging himself under theshade of a small elder tree near the banqueting-hall. "I haven't a legleft to stand on, and I'm hoarse with shouting orders. You'd better givein, and do something quiet. I don't want to see another boy or girl forthe space of the next half-hour, so scoot, all of you, anywhere, andleave Mr. Browne and myself to enjoy a smoke in peace."