CHAPTER XVIII.

A DISASTER.

Not for several moments was Aunt Nancy able to decide what should be done, and then, as the song died away leaving only the deacon's words to mingle with the reverberation of the surf, she said in a voice which sounded strained and harsh,--

"It must be done. You shall bring him here, and I will tell the story myself. When he comes, take Louis and walk down by the beach for a while."

The little woman could say no more, for at that moment Deacon Downs asked in his blandest tones,--

"Do you think it would be possible to make a leetle more coffee, Sister Curtis?"

Aunt Nancy had never been known to refuse a request which involved only her own discomfort or labor, and on this occasion there was no exception to the rule.

"It will be ready in a few minutes, Deacon," she replied in a trembling voice, at the same time keeping her face turned from the party lest they should see the tears in her eyes.

Jack understood there was no necessity of any further conversation, therefore walked slowly away, feeling very much like a fellow who voluntarily goes to receive unmerited punishment.

He now had no fear of Bill Dean and his friends. The present trouble was so much greater than any they could cause him that it was as if this particular trio of boys never existed.

Not until he had walked to and fro for half an hour did he begin to realize it might not be possible to find the farmer amid the throng.

Each succeeding train brought additional worshippers or visitors to the grove, and the walks were so densely lined with people that he might have passed within ten feet of Mr. Pratt without seeing him.

Having made up his mind to that which he considered a sacrifice, he was impatient to have it finished, and walked rapidly until the afternoon was more than half spent; but all in vain.

It seemed more than probable he had gone home, or at least Jack so argued to himself, and returned to the tent looking as if suffering from some grievous disappointment.

Aunt Nancy was at the flap of the canvas house with an expression of anxiety on her face, but the baby was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Louis?" Jack asked in alarm.

"Mrs. Hayes is taking care of him. I thought it best he shouldn't be seen when Mr. Pratt came. Will he be here soon?"

"I couldn't find him; he must have gone home."

The little woman's face lighted up wonderfully as she cried,--

"O Jack dear, I know it is wicked to say, but I am _so_ glad! It is only right I should bear the burden I myself have caused; but the thought of losing you and the baby almost broke my heart."

Then she kissed him on both cheeks, and again did he feel the moisture of her tears.

"Well, Aunt Nancy, you haven't lost us yet awhile, an' if Mr. Pratt has gone home that settles the matter for a while."

"Yes, Jack dear, but the sin is yet to be atoned for; it is only a postponement of the evil day."

"Any way there's no need of worryin' about it now. If, when we get home, you feel that he should know the truth, it won't be much of a job for me to walk over to his house, an' then," Jack added with a feeble attempt at a smile, "they won't have so far to carry me when I'm taken to the poor farm."

"Don't talk in such a manner, my dear, for I am hoping it won't ever come to pass."

Jack made no reply.

He felt quite confident the farmer would insist on his going to the home for paupers, but no good could be done by further distressing the little woman.

"I declare I'd entirely forgotten you and I have had no dinner," she suddenly said with a nervous laugh. "I'll get some cold meat and bread, if there is any left; but it is astonishing how strong people's appetites are at the seashore, especially during camp-meeting time. We must get along without coffee, for the deacon fairly swam in that second pot I made."

"I don't feel so terribly hungry," Jack replied; "but I'll sit down for the sake of seeing you eat. As to the coffee, that don't trouble me; water is good enough for boys."

"It is more wholesome I admit; but there's nothing good enough for a dear heart like yours."

Then the little woman bustled around as Jack had seen her do at home, and in a few moments a most appetizing lunch was spread, the amount of food contradicting her fears that all the provisions had been consumed.

The two made a hearty meal, considering all their troubles, and when it was concluded Jack helped Aunt Nancy set the tent to rights generally, so when the remainder of the party returned from afternoon services everything was in proper order.

Mrs. Hayes brought Louis with her, and after delivering him to Jack she said with a sigh of relief,--

"I declare, Sister Curtis, it is a real pleasure to come to camp meeting with you. It takes the care off of one entirely. I only wish I had your knack at going ahead. Now look at me; I'm almost worn out looking after the baby, and don't feel as if I could do a stitch toward getting supper."

The other ladies in the party appeared to be in the same condition of prostration, and the little woman, tired though she was from the labor of preparing and serving dinner for so many, meekly replied that she was perfectly willing to give them a rest by performing all the work.

Jack heard the compliment paid by Mrs. Hayes, and understood that it had been given only for the purpose of getting the little woman to continue on while the others enjoyed their leisure.

"I'm goin' to help you, Aunt Nancy," he said in a low tone as he went toward the stove where she was making ready to bake some biscuit. "It's too bad for you to do all this work while the others are havin' a good time."

"Oh, I don't mind it, dear, so long as I can be of service to some one. We are put in this world to help others, and it should be a pleasure."

"But you're doin' all instead of helpin'. Now tell me what I can do, if you're bound to wait on the whole crowd."

"Take care of the baby, that will be enough."

"He'll stay around here all right," Jack replied as he placed the little fellow on the grass, giving him some smooth stones to play with.

Then he set about assisting Aunt Nancy, working so industriously that Deacon Downs said in a tone of faint approbation,--

"That there little hunchback seems right handy if he wants to, an' if he wasn't so given to fightin' it might be a good thing for Aunt Nancy to have him around; but when once a boy gets as quarrelsome as this one, it ain't much use trying to make anything out of him."

The majority of the party were of the same opinion, and from that time forth it was believed, at least by those who were present when the deacon spoke, that Jack was a boy who would fight under the slightest provocation.

Not until the bell had rung as a signal that the evening services were about to begin did Jack and Aunt Nancy cease their labors.

The other occupants of the tent had already departed, and the little woman and her assistant were so tired it seemed almost too great an exertion to walk to the auditorium.

"Why not go to bed?" Jack asked. "I'll take care of Louis until he gets sleepy, an' then bring him to you."

"No, it would be wrong to remain here when so many truths will be presented, simply because I chance to be tired."

"Then we'll all go"; and Jack lifted Louis in his arms.

Aunt Nancy enjoyed the services so much that Jack was very glad she had come; but as for himself he believed the time would have been quite as profitably spent in sleeping.

On the following morning at daybreak Deacon Downs aroused the hunchback with a harshly spoken command to build the fire and awaken Aunt Nancy when it was burning.

"Are you goin' to make her do all the work?" Jack asked as he started to his feet.

"Don't be impudent!" the deacon said sternly, raising his cane threateningly. "Learn to do as you are bidden, and in silence."

Jack made no reply, but felt that the little woman whom he loved so dearly was being imposed upon.

As for Aunt Nancy, she appeared to have no such idea.

Jack awakened her as he had been told, and she arose from the bed of straw on which she had lain without undressing, uttering no word of protest.

"I would have let you sleep till noon, but the deacon told me to, an' was kinder mad when I asked if you'd got to do all the work," Jack said, his tones proving there was yet anger in his heart.

"You shouldn't have said anything about it, my dear, for it is a pleasure to me."

"You try to think it is, but I know it's nothin' more than hard work, while the others are enjoying a long nap."

"We won't say any more about it, Jack dear. Don't you think you could get me some water?"

"Of course I can"; and Jack labored with a will, relieving the tired-looking little woman whenever it was possible.

The second day at camp meeting was spent by these two in much the same manner as the first, as regards work, and Louis received very little attention.

Jack, in obedience to Aunt Nancy's request, looked again for Mr. Pratt, but with no better success than before; and after dinner he washed the dishes in order that the little woman might attend the afternoon services.

It was a decided relief to him when the day came on which they were to return home.

He knew Aunt Nancy had worked too hard, and the bustle and confusion tired him almost as much as the labor.

Gladly he helped gather up the empty baskets, and when the three were on the cars being whirled rapidly toward home, the little woman said with a sigh of relief,--

"What a comfort it will be to find ourselves on the farm once more, Jack dear! I believe I am getting too old to go to such places, and a week's rest wouldn't be too much to make me feel like myself again."

"If you had gone alone, without tryin' to run a boardin'-house for them who didn't care whether you had any fun or not, it would have been different."

"You don't look at the matter in the proper light, my child. They've always been accustomed to having Aunt Nancy go at such times, and I couldn't disappoint them as long as I was able to hold up my head."

Jack realized it was useless to continue this conversation, so far as convincing the little woman that she had been imposed upon was concerned, and he remained silent.

Never before had the farm looked so beautiful, either to Jack or the little woman, as when they arrived home that night, and during the evening devotions Aunt Nancy's thankfulness was made apparent by the fervently spoken words.

The hunchback's first care, after opening the house, was to visit the barn to assure himself old crumple-horn had been well taken care of; but he could not gain much information in the darkness.

The animal was lying in her stall, and appeared to be in good condition.

Notwithstanding the fact that the house had been closed four days, the search for burglars was made before retiring, and then Jack, after seeing Louis tucked snugly in Aunt Nancy's bed, went to his cosey little room feeling confident he would never again have any desire to attend another camp meeting.

When the morning came he went out with a light heart to milk the cow, but to his great surprise still found her lying down.

All in vain did he urge her to get up; she refused to move, nor would she pay any attention to the tempting lunch of sweet clover he placed in front of her.

Running back to the house he summoned Aunt Nancy, and both spent fully an hour alternately coaxing and petting the animal.

"She is very sick, Jack dear, there can be no question about that," the little woman said as her eyes filled with tears. "It would grieve me if she should die, for I have owned her a long while."

"How many years?"

"I hardly know; but it can't be less than eighteen."

"Then she must be dying of old age."

"I will go right over to Daniel Chick's and ask him to come here. He's a master hand at doctoring animals."

Then before Jack could offer to go in her steady Aunt Nancy started down the lane bareheaded, which showed how deeply she felt the possible loss of her pet.

In a short time Mr. Chick arrived with the little woman, and his verdict brought no relief to Aunt Nancy's heart.

"All you can do is to knock her in the head, for she'll never get up again. It's kinder tough on you, I'll admit, for that cow has been a powerful help, 'specially when the summer boarders are here; but it won't do any good to fret."

Aunt Nancy made no reply, but walked slowly to the house as if desirous of being alone.

"She feels mighty bad I allow," Mr. Chick continued, speaking to Jack. "I've said many times I didn't know how Aunt Nancy would get along if it wasn't for the cow, an' now I reckon she'll be eatin' her bread without butter."

"What will she do when the boarders come?"

"That's what I don't know"; and Mr. Chick walked away as if he had no further concern in the matter.

Jack sat down where he could watch crumple-horn and at the same time think over this disaster which had come to the little woman.

While he was trying to form some plan, the poor old cow laid her head on the sweet-scented clover, gave a few short gasps, and ceased breathing as if from sheer weariness.

Jack stood over her a moment, and then returned to the house, arriving there just as Aunt Nancy was emerging with Louis in her arms.

"I wouldn't go out there"; and he motioned toward the barn.

Aunt Nancy looked at him an instant, appearing to understand what he meant, for she re-entered the house, leaving Jack on the doorstep in a profound study.

He could hear Louis's voice from the "fore-room" now and then, therefore it was not necessary to tell him the little woman had gone there to hide her grief.

"I must do something" he said to himself, "an' what I first thought of seems to be the only show."

Then going to the door of the "fore-room" and knocking gently, he said in a low tone,--

"Aunt Nancy, could you spare me a little while?"

"Where are you bound, Jack?"

"I'd like to run down to Treat's store if you don't care."

Aunt Nancy opened the door, and Jack noticed her eyes were red from weeping.

"What is your idea of going there?" she asked in surprise.

"I've got some business that I'd rather not explain till I get back."

"There's nothing to prevent, my child, and I can trust you not to do anything wrong."

"I should hope you could," Jack replied emphatically. "You shall know all about it when I come home."

"Don't try to walk too fast, but return as soon as your business is finished."

Jack promised to do so, and was hurrying up the lane when the little woman stopped him with these words:--

"I wish you would call at Daniel Chick's and tell him what has happened. It will be necessary to bury poor old crumple-horn, and he must attend to it."

"I'll ask him to come over right away"; and Jack resumed his journey, wondering whether he was on the point of doing that for which Aunt Nancy would censure him.

"It doesn't make any difference whether she does or not," he said to himself. "If I told her she wouldn't let me go, so this is the only way to fix it."