CHAPTER XV
_Jack's Misfortune_
The children were obliged to walk quickly in order to keep pace withtheir guide, who trotted along rapidly, never troubling to glance roundto see if they were coming. Once they had left the clearing and thequeer little house behind them, and plunged into the wood, they foundit quite dark; and darker still as they got farther in. Strange cracklynoises could be heard from time to time behind the bushes and trees,which suggested all sorts of things to you if you happened to be alittle girl or boy with a fairly active imagination.
Of course, there was always Old Nancy's gift--the matches--if thedarkness grew unbearable. Both Jack and Molly remembered the matches,but they did not feel quite sure whether this was the proper timeto use them, as they were afraid of offending their guide if theysuggested that his lantern did not give enough light.
They trotted along in silence for a time, until a particularly loudcrack behind a bush close by startled Molly and made her feel that shecould not bear the silence any longer.
"Don't you find it very lonely here--living by yourself in the wood?"she asked the hurrying figure in front of her.
"Eh?" asked Mr Papingay.
It was such a relief to talk that Molly gladly repeated her question.
"Not a bit of it," replied the old man, without slackening his pace orturning round. "Why should I? I have plenty of visitors--and Percy totake care of me."
"Yes, but aren't you afraid of--robbers--or anything?" asked Molly.
"Robbers!" the old man chuckled. "I should like to see the robber thatcould get past Percy. Besides, what is there to steal? That's the bestof a house like mine, you see. No one can take things from me. I getall the use and pleasure I want out of the things I paint--then when Iwant new things I paint the old ones out and paint fresh ones in theirplace. And they can't be stolen--they're of no use to any one else, yousee. As for the Pumpkin's spies," he continued in a loud voice, thatmade Jack and Molly shudder in case he were overheard. "I'm not afraidof them--they never touch me...."
Molly gave a little scream, as something swept past her head, brushingher forehead as it did so.
"It's only a bat, Molly. Don't be a silly," said Jack in a shaky voice.
"There's heaps of them about--and owls," said Mr Papingay, continuinghis rapid walk without a moment's pause. As if to confirm his wordsthere came a mournful "Hoo, hoo, hoo," from the depths of the wood. Thechildren gripped each other's arms tightly, and hastened on.
Another minute, and a patch of light appeared in the distance, and thechildren saw that it was the end of the wood.
"There," said the old man as they came out from the trees at last, "youcan find your way now, can't you? I must get back--Percy doesn't likeme to stay out very late. That is the farmhouse, over there; straightacross this field, over the stile and the wooden bridge across theriver, and a few minutes' walk up the hill, on the other side. Youcan see where I mean, can't you?" And he pointed the farm out to thechildren. "You can mention my name to them--Farmer Rose knows me well.Now if you will take this," he said, passing the plant-pot containinghis precious leaf into Molly's keeping. "And take care of it. I shallsee you both again shortly, I hope. Good-bye. Good-bye."
"Thank you so much for bringing us this short cut out of the wood,"said Molly. "It was awfully kind of you."
"Rather," said Jack. Then, relieved at being safely out of the wood, headded generously, "I say--your lantern's a marvel!"
The old man nodded and beamed delightedly. Then, waving his hand, hestepped back into the wood, his painted lantern swinging at his side,and disappeared.
As soon as Mr Papingay had gone, Jack and Molly stopped and lookedaround them. They were in the open country once more, but a more hillycountry than that on the other side of the wood, for they had passedright through the wood and come out at the opposite end.
The wood led straight out into a field, across which a narrow footpathstraggled to a stile set in the middle of green hedges. On the otherside of the stile was a path, and a little white wooden bridge acrossthe river, and on the farther side of the river were hills and thefarm-house. The red roofs and whitewashed walls of several cottages andother farm-houses could be seen here and there.
Evening was closing in rapidly, and while they had been in the wooddark clouds had drifted up and were now gathering threateninglyoverhead.
"It's too dark to do any more searching to-night," said Jack. "Isuppose we'd better make straight for the farm; and come back andsearch all round here in the morning."
"I suppose that would be best," said Molly. "I don't feel at allsatisfied about the Orange Wood, do you, Jack? I think we must comeback and search that too--to-morrow. It doesn't look a very big wood."
As the children turned to look back at the wood, the first spots ofrain began to come down, so they hastened along the path toward thestile.
"I wonder if Mr Papingay really has searched it thoroughly," saidMolly. "He seems such a funny old man--I don't know what to think."
"I do," laughed Jack. "Mr Papingay's much too slap-dash to search itcarefully. No, Moll, I'm afraid we've got to do it to-morrow. It won'tbe so bad in daylight. My word! How the rain is coming down. We're infor a storm, I should think."
They hurried on, climbed the stile, but when they got on to the bridgeMolly stopped for a moment.
"I say, Jack," she called, and Jack stopped too. "I'm going to throwthis plant-pot in the river--it's too heavy to take all the way withus, and I don't like to put it down in the field in case Mr Papingaycomes along and finds it." She pulled the leaf out of the pot, foldedit up, and pushed it into her satchel, then threw the pot into theswiftly flowing river.
"What are you keeping the leaf for?" cried Jack. He had to raise hisvoice to be heard through the rising gale.
"Oh, I couldn't throw that away," said Molly. "And besides, it may comein useful," she added as she ran along beside Jack up the hill. "Younever know."
"Won't old Timothy feel sold when he hears what his Black Leaf reallywas!" chuckled Jack.
The rain was coming down heavily as they reached the front door of thefarm-house. They knocked, and rang at the bell--but no one answered,and there was no sound within the house. They knocked again, then wentround and knocked at the back door. But still no one came, and theybegan to fear that there was nobody at home. This proved to be thecase. The stables and outhouses were all locked up, although they couldhear a horse inside one of the buildings, and there were some fowlsin a hen-run in the yard. Evidently the people were only out for ashort time, so Jack and Molly decided to take shelter in the porch bythe front door for a while, until the storm was over, or Farmer Rosereturned.
"Oh, dear, what a dreadful night it's going to be!" said Molly. "Areyou very wet, Jack?"
"Hardly a bit. It's quite comfortable in this porch," Jack replied, andthen she heard him chuckling. "I was just thinking of old Mr Papingay,"he explained, and then he broke off with a sudden exclamation: "Oh,bother!"
"What is it?" Molly asked.
"I clean forgot to look for Mr Waffer's face! Why didn't you remindme?" said Jack.
"I forgot too," answered Molly. "Never mind, we'll look to-morrow if wesearch the Orange Wood."
"We mustn't let Mr Papingay see us, though. What fun! It'll be likeplaying hide-and-seek," said Jack. "Goodness, how the wind _is_howling!"
They remained quiet for a time, huddled up in the porch. The storm wasgrowing still worse, and it was very dark now. Presently the silence inthe porch was broken by Jack exclaiming again: "Bother!"
"What is it now?" inquired Molly.
"Oh, I say, Moll--I've lost them--yes, I've lost my box of matches--OldNancy's matches."
A thorough search of Jack's satchel and all his pockets proved thatthis was unfortunately true.
"They must have fallen out--let me see now--I had them just beforewe climbed the stile, I'm sure of that, because I put my hand in mysatchel to get one of those sweet squares and I remember feeling thebox." Jack trie
d hard to think back. "I believe I must have droppedthem somewhere just by the bridge. Here, Molly, hold my satchel andthings a sec, will you, and I'll just run down to the bridge and fetchthe box--yes, I'm sure now I heard something fall on the bridge. Iwon't be a couple of minutes. You wait here, Molly; I'll be ever soquick. No, it isn't raining much."
"Don't go, Jack!" cried Molly. "Its so dark and wet, oh, Jack, don'tgo! I've still got my matches left--never mind yours now."
But Jack was hardly listening. "It's only just down the hill--won't bea minute--you wait here--I must get them, Molly--we may need them. Itisn't so dark--I can see all right."
"Wait, wait, Jack. Oh, I know--let me strike one of my matches and seeif it can find the other box for us." Molly was fumbling in her satchelquickly. But Jack hadn't heard her, and had started off impetuously,calling back, "Shall be back in a minute. Wait there, Moll."
"I'm coming too," called Molly, but the wind howled past and Jack didnot hear as he raced down the hill.
Fastening up Jack's satchel and slipping it over her shoulders togetherwith her own satchel, and clasping her own box of matches firmly in herhand, Molly set out after her brother, calling his name as she ran. Itwas very silly of Jack to tear off like this, she thought, but shewas only anxious to get him back safely in the porch again out of thedarkness and the rain. She did not stop to light one of her matchesuntil she was about half-way down the hill. Then she stopped and struckone. No ordinary match would have kept alight a second in such a storm,but Old Nancy's matches, as she already knew, were not ordinary. Thelight gathered all on one side as usual, pointing straight down thehill.
Molly had just time to see the figure of Jack running in front ofher--he had reached the bridge--when the match flame veered right roundand pointed up the hill.
Molly turned and looked, but there was nothing to be seen there. Whatdid it mean? She hastened on down the hill, and as her match went out,she lit another one.
This time the light from the match showed her that Jack was on thebridge and had crossed over to the footpath, and was bending down topick something up. So he had found his matches! But even as she sawJack, her eye caught sight of something coming from the direction ofthe Orange Wood along the river bank, toward the bridge. Then theflame from the match veered round and pointed up the hill. But notbefore Molly had seen what it was that was creeping toward Jack on theother side of the river.
It was the Grey Pumpkin. And Jack had not seen him.
And the match flame was pointing the way of escape, up the hill tosafety! Just as the flame had pointed out the way of escape in theunderground cellar.
But there was no thought of her own safety while Jack was in suchdanger. Molly dashed forward, crying out: "Jack! Run! Quick! Come back!Look behind you!" But the wind roared around her as if mocking her, andJack never heard.
As she ran she lit another match, and by its light saw that Jack wasstanding upright and had turned--and seen the Pumpkin close behindhim. He went to run, but slipped and fell to his knees, and as he wasscrambling up again the Pumpkin reached him. Jack seemed to collapseall in a heap on the ground, and then, there was no Jack--but in hisplace another great Grey Pumpkin. Molly pulled up and stood motionless,gazing with horrified eyes. Then her match went out. She lit anothermechanically, and as she did so she heard a terrific crash a fewyards ahead, and saw that the storm had broken down the wooden bridge;it collapsed into the river and was caught up by the rapidly rushingcurrent and swirled away. If this hadn't happened, Molly would havebeen over the bridge in another second (forgetting in her despair thatshe could do no good and would only get caught herself). But as it was,she was brought to an abrupt standstill at the water's edge, while onthe other side of the river two Grey Pumpkins rolled slowly away alongthe path toward a group of tall dark trees....
And so it was that the farmer and his kindly wife, returning home abouthalf an hour later, found a little girl sitting in the porch by theirfront door, crying as if her heart would break.