CHAPTER XXIII
LIGHT DAWNS FOR UNCLE DARCY
FOR some time the faint jangle of a bell had been sounding at intervalsfar down the street. Ordinarily it would have caught Georgina'sattention long before this, but absorbed in the letter to which she hadreturned after putting the eggs down cellar, she did not hear theringing until it was near enough for the Towncrier's message to beaudible also. He was announcing the extra day of the Bazaar, and callingattention to the many new attractions it would have to offer on themorrow.
Instantly, Georgina dropped her pencil and flew out to meet him. Herewas an opportunity to find out all about the Brewster trip. As he cametowards her she saw the same look in his weather-beaten old face whichshe had wondered at the day before, when he was bending over AuntElspeth, patting her on the cheek. It was like the shining of anewly-lighted candle.
She was not the only one who had noticed it. All the way up the streetglances had followed him. People turned for a second look, wonderingwhat good fortune had befallen the old fellow. They had come to expecta cheery greeting from him. He always left a kindly glow behind himwhenever he passed. But to-day the cheeriness was so intensified that heseemed to be brimming over with good will to everybody.
"Why, Uncle Darcy!" cried Georgina. "You look so happy!"
"Well, is it any wonder, lass, with such news from Danny? Him alive andwell and sure to come back to me some of these days! I could hardly keepfrom shouting it out to everybody as I came along the street. I'm afraidit'll just naturally tell itself some day, in spite of my promise toBelle. I'm glad I can let off steam up here, you knowing the secret,too, for this old heart of mine is just about to burst with all thegladness that's inside of me."
Here was someone as anxious to tell as she was to hear; someone whocould recall every word of the interview with the wild-cat woman.Georgina swung on to his arm which held the bell, and began to askquestions, and nothing loath, he let her lead him into the yard and tothe rustic seat running around the trunk of the big willow tree. He wasready to rest, now that his route was traveled and his dollar earned.
Belle, back in the kitchen, preparing a light dinner for herself andGeorgina, Tippy being away for the day, did not see him come in. She hadnot seen him since the day the old rifle gave up its secret, and shetried to put him out of her mind as much as possible, for she wasmiserable every time she thought of him. She would have been still moremiserable could she have heard all that he was saying to Georgina.
"Jimmy Milford thought that the liniment folks calling the boy 'Dave,'proved that he wasn't the same as my Danny. But just one thing wouldhave settled all doubts for me if I'd a had any. That was what he kept acalling in his fever when he was out of his head: 'Belle mustn't suffer.Belle must be spared, no matter what happens!'
"And that's the one thing that reconciles me to keeping still a whilelonger. It was his wish to spare her, and if he could sacrifice so muchto do it, I can't make his sacrifice seem in vain. I lay awake lastnight till nearly daylight, thinking how I'd like to take this old bellof mine, and go from one end of the town to the other, ringing it tillit cracked, crying out, '_Danny is innocent_,' to the whole world. Butthe time hasn't come yet. I'll have to be patient a while longer andbear up the best I can."
Georgina, gazing fixedly ahead of her at nothing in particular, ponderedseriously for a long, silent moment.
"If you did that," she said finally, "cried the good news through thetown till everybody knew--then when people found out that it was EmmettPotter who was the thief and that he was too much of a coward to own upand take the blame--would they let the monument go on standing there,that they'd put up to show he was brave? It would serve him right ifthey took it down, wouldn't it!" she exclaimed with a savage littlescowl drawing her brows together.
"No, no, child!" he said gently. "Give the lad his due. He _was_ bravethat one time. He saved all of those lives as it is chiseled on hisheadstone. It is better he should be remembered for the best act in hislife than for the worst one. A man's measure should be taken when he'sstretched up to his full height, just as far as he can lift up his head;not when he's stooped to the lowest. It's only fair to judge either theliving or the dead that way."
For some time after that nothing more was said. The harbor was full ofboats this morning. It was a sight worth watching. One naturally driftedinto day-dreams, following the sweep of the sails moving silently towardthe far horizon. Georgina was busy picturing a home-coming scene thatmade the prodigal son's welcome seem mild in comparison, when UncleDarcy startled her by exclaiming:
"Oh, it _pays_ to bear up and steer right onward! S'pose I hadn't donethat. S'pose I _hadn't_ kept Hope at the prow. I believe I'd have beenin my grave by this time with all the grief and worry. But now----"
He stopped and shook his head, unable to find words to express theemotion which was making his voice tremble and his face glow with thatwonderful inner shining. Georgina finished the sentence for him, lookingout on the sail-filled harbor and thinking of the day he had taken herout in his boat to tell her of his son.
"But now you'll be all ready and waiting when your ship comes home fromsea with its precious cargo." They were his own words she was repeating.
"Danny'll weather the storms at last and come into port with all flagsflying."
The picture her words suggested was too much for the old father. He puthis hat up in front of his face, and his shoulders shook with silentsobs. Georgina laid a sympathetic little hand on the rough sleeve nexther. Suddenly the sails in the harbor seemed to run together all blurryand queer. She drew her hand across her eyes and looked again at theheaving shoulders. A happiness so deep that it found its expression thatway, filled her with awe. It must be the kind of happiness that peoplefelt when they reached "the shining shore, the other side of Jordan,"and their loved ones came down to welcome them "into their desiredhaven."
That last phrase came to her lips like a bit of remembered music andunconsciously she repeated it aloud. Uncle Darcy heard it, and lookedup. His cheeks were wet when he put down his hat, but it was thehappiest face she had ever seen, and there was no shake in his voice nowwhen he said solemnly:
"And nobody but the good Lord who's helped his poor sailors throughshipwreck and storm, knows how mightily they've desired that haven, orwhat it means to them to be brought into it."
A delivery wagon from one of the fruit stores stopped in front of thegate, and the driver came in, carrying a basket. Uncle Darcy spoke tohim as he passed the willow tree.
"Well, Joe, this looks like a chance for me to get a lift most of theway home."
"Sure," was the cordial reply. "Climb in. I'll be right back."
Georgina thought of something as he rose to go.
"Oh, wait just a minute, Uncle Darcy, I want to get something of yoursthat's down cellar."
When she came back there was no time or opportunity for an explanation.He and the driver were both in the wagon. She reached up and put the bagon the seat beside him.
"I--I did something to some of your eggs, yesterday," she stammered,"and these are to take the place of the ones I broke."
Uncle Darcy peered into the bag with a puzzled expression. He had notmissed any eggs from the crock of bran. He didn't know what she wastalking about. But before he could ask any questions the driver slappedthe horse with the reins, and they were rattling off down street.Georgina stood looking after them a moment, then turned her head tolisten. Somebody was calling her. It was Belle, who had come to thefront door to say that dinner was ready.
Whenever Mrs. Triplett was at home, Belle made extra efforts to talk andappear interested in what was going on around her. She was afraid herkeen-eyed Aunt Maria would see that she was unhappy. But alone withGeorgina who shared her secret, she relapsed into a silence so deep itcould be felt, responding only with a wan smile when the child's livelychatter seemed to force an answer of some kind. But to-day when Georginacame to the table she was strangely silent herself, so mute that Bellenoticed it, and found
that she was being furtively watched by the bigbrown eyes opposite her. Every time Belle looked up she caughtGeorgina's gaze fastened on her, and each time it was immediatelytransferred to her plate.
"What's the matter, Georgina?" she asked finally. "Why do you keepstaring at me?"
Georgina flushed guiltily. "Nothing," was the embarrassed answer. "I wasjust wondering whether to tell you or not. I thought maybe you'd like toknow, and maybe you ought to know, but I wasn't sure whether you'd wantme to talk to you about it or not."
Belle put down her tea-cup. It was her turn to stare.
"For goodness' sake! What _are_ you beating around the bush about?"
"About the news from Danny," answered Georgina. "About the letter hewrote to the wild-cat woman and that got buried in the dunes too deepever to be dug up again."
As this was the first Belle had heard of either the letter or the woman,her expression of astonishment was all that Georgina could desire. Hernews had made a sensation. Belle showed plainly that she was startled,and as eager to hear as Georgina was to tell. So she began at thebeginning, from the time of the opening of the pouch on the GreenStairs, to the last word of the wild-cat woman's conversation whichUncle Darcy had repeated to her only a few moments before under thewillow.
Instinctively, she gave the recital a dramatic touch which made Bellefeel almost like an eye witness as she listened. And it was with UncleDarcy's own gestures and manner that she repeated his final statement.
"Jimmy Milford thought the liniment folks calling the boy Dave proved hewasn't the same as my Danny. But just one thing would have settled alldoubts for me if I'd had any. That was what he kept a calling in hisfever when he was out of his head: '_Belle_ mustn't suffer. _Belle_must be spared no matter what happens.'"
At the bringing of her own name into the story Belle gave a perceptiblestart and a tinge of red crept into her pale cheeks.
"Did he say that, Georgina?" she demanded, leaning forward and lookingat her intently. "Are you sure those are his exact words?"
"His very-own-exactly-the-same words," declared Georgina solemnly. "Icross my heart and body they're just as Uncle Darcy told them to me."
Rising from the table, Belle walked over to the window and stood withher back to Georgina, looking out into the garden.
"Well, and what next?" she demanded in a queer, breathless sort of way.
"And then Uncle Darcy said that his saying that was the one thing thatmade him feel willing to keep still a while longer about--you know--whatwas in the rifle. 'Cause if Danny cared enough about sparing you to giveup home and his good name and everything else in life he couldn't spoilit all by telling now. But Uncle Darcy said he lay awake nearly all lastnight thinking how he'd love to take that old bell of his and go ringingit through the town till it cracked, calling out to the world, 'My boyis innocent.'
"And when I said something about it's all coming out all right some day,and that Danny would weather the storms and come into port with allflags flying----" Here Georgina lowered her voice and went on slowly asif she hesitated to speak of what happened next--"he just put his oldhat over his face and cried. And I felt so sorry----"
Georgina's voice choked. There were tears in her eyes as she spoke ofthe scene.
"_Don't!_" groaned Belle, her back still turned.
The note of distress in Belle's voice stilled Georgina's lively tongue afew seconds, but there was one more thing in her mind to be said, andwith the persistence of a mosquito she returned to the subject to givethat final stab, quite unconscious of how deeply it would sting. She wasonly wondering aloud, something which she had often wondered to herself.
"I should think that when anybody had suffered as long as Danny has tospare you, it would make you want to spare him. Doesn't it? I shouldthink that you'd want to do something to sort of make up to him for itall. Don't you?"
"Oh, _don't_!" exclaimed Belle again, sharply this time. Then toGeorgina's utter amazement she buried her face in her apron, stoodsobbing by the window a moment, and ran out of the room. She did notcome downstairs again until nearly supper time.
Georgina sat at the table, not knowing what to do next. She felt thatshe had muddled things dreadfully. Instead of making Belle feel betteras she hoped to do, she realized she had hurt her in some unintentionalway. Presently, she slowly drew herself up from her chair and began toclear the table, piling the few dishes they had used, under the dishpanin the sink. The house stood open to the summer breeze. It seemed sodesolate and deserted with Belle upstairs, drawn in alone with hertroubles and Tippy away, that she couldn't bear to stay in the silentrooms. She wandered out into the yard and climbed up into the willow tolook across the water.
Somewhere out there on those shining waves, Richard was sailing along,in the party given for Mr. Locke, and to-morrow he would be going awayon the yacht. If he were at home she wouldn't be up in the willowwondering what to do next. Well, as long as she couldn't have a goodtime herself she'd think of someone else she could make happy. Forseveral minutes she sent her thoughts wandering over the list of all thepeople she knew, but it seemed as if her friends were capable of makingtheir own good times, all except poor Belle. Probably _she_ never wouldbe happy again, no matter what anybody did to try to brighten her life.It was so discouraging when one was trying to play the game of "RainbowTag," for there to be no one to tag. She wished she knew some needyperson, some unfortunate soul who would be glad of her efforts to makethem happy.
Once she thought of slipping off down street to the library. Miss Tupmanalways let her go in where the shelves were and choose her own book.Miss Tupman was always so interesting, too, more than any of the bookswhen she had time to talk. But that grim old word Duty rose up in frontof her, telling her that she ought not to run away and leave the houseall open with Belle locked in her room upstairs. Somebody ought to bewithin hearing if the telephone rang or anyone came. She went into thehouse for a book which she had read many times but which never failed tointerest her, and curled up in a big rocking chair on the front porch.
Late in the afternoon she smelled burning pine chips and smoke from thekitchen chimney which told that a fire was being started in the stove.After a while she went around the house to the kitchen door and peepedin, apprehensively. Belle was piling the dinner dishes into the pan,preparatory to washing them while supper was cooking. Her eyes were redand she did not look up when Georgina came in, but there was an air ofsilent determination about her as forcible as her Aunt Maria's. Pickingup the tea-kettle, she filled the dishpan and carried the kettle back tothe stove, setting it down hard before she spoke. Then she said:
"Nobody'll ever know what I've been through with, fighting this thingout with myself. I can't go all the way yet. I _can't_ say the wordthat'll let the blow fall on poor old Father Potter. But I don't seem tocare about my part of it any more. I see things differently from what Idid that first day--_you_ know. Even Emmett don't seem the same anymore."
For several minutes there was a rattling of dishes, but no furtherspeech from Belle. Georgina, not knowing what to say or do, stood poiseduncertainly on the door-sill. Then Belle spoke again.
"I'm willing it should be told if only it could be kept from gettingback to Father Potter, for the way Dan's done _does_ make me want to sethim square with the world. I would like to make up to him in some wayfor all he's suffered on my account. I can't get over it that it was_him_ that had all the bravery and the nobleness that I was fairlyworshiping in Emmett all these years. Seems like the whole world hasturned upside down."
Georgina waited a long time, but Belle seemed to have said all that sheintended to say, so presently she walked over and stood beside the sink.
"Belle," she said slowly, "does what you said mean that you're reallywilling I should tell Barby? Right away?"
Belle waited an instant before replying, then taking a deep breath as ifabout to make a desperate plunge into a chasm on whose brink she hadlong been poised, said:
"Yes. Uncle Dan'l would rather have her know
than anybody else. He setssuch store by her good opinion. But oh, _do_ make it plain it mustn'tbe talked about outside, so's it'll get back to Father Potter."
The next instant Georgina's arms were around her in a silent but joyfulsqueeze, and she ran upstairs to write to Barby before the sun should godown or Tippy get back from the Bazaar.