Part 5

"Hush, Nelly," said Sandy, "you would have done no such thing. You are only angry because your supper has not been eaten to-night; but I dare say Archie has nothing to do with that; it is more likely to be Miss Helen's illness."

"I did not think of that, indeed," said Nelly. "May be Archie is not to blame about the supper, and he has enough to answer for without laying that to his charge; but, good night," continued she, "it is time we were all gone to bed. Remember, Sandy, that Archie must not leave the house till our master has seen and talked with him. I was desired to tell you to be very particular about this. I am thinking the Minister will read him a lecture. I am sure I would not be in his place for the best new gown in Langholm." So saying, they all separated for the evening.

Through the night poor Helen suffered considerably; and her anxious mother never left her till towards morning, when Mr. Martin took his wife's place, and insisted that she should lie down for a few hours. "We shall have you ill too, my dear, if you do not take care; and then what will become of us?" "Pray, mamma," said Helen, (who had heard what her father said,) "do go to bed. I promise you I will lie quite still, and give papa no trouble that I can help." Mrs. Martin was at last persuaded to leave them; and after a sleep of three hours, found, on her return to the room, that the measles had made their appearance, and that Helen felt rather better than when she had left her.

On going down stairs, Mr. Martin enquired for Archie Kerr, of Nelly, who was laying the cloth for breakfast. "He is pretty well, Sir, this morning, but wants sadly to get away to his work. At least, that is what he says; but I think he is afraid to see you, after what happened last night. When he discovered where he was, Sandy tells me, he grew quite pale, and said, 'This is the worst scrape I have ever got into. I think I would almost as soon have fallen into the river as have been brought to the Manse, for how shall I ever face the Minister?'" "Send him in to me, Nelly; and don't disturb us, till I ring the bell." Nelly did as she was ordered; and Archie made his appearance with his head bound up, and one of Sandy's woollen night-caps half drawn over his eyes, as if he wanted to hide them from the good man, who was now going to address him. As, however, the door was shut immediately, and there were none present but himself and the Minister, what Mr. Martin said to him never transpired; only when he left the study and passed through the kitchen, in his way to go home, Nelly observed that his eyes were red with weeping; and as he shook hands with John, he said, "I shall have reason, my little fellow, to bless the night you found me, and got me brought to the Manse, all my life long, if I can but remember what the minister has been saying to me; and, after his kindness, I shall be an ungrateful villain indeed, if ever I forget it; and that I would not be for all the whiskey in Eskdale. Farewell! And, my man, if ever you should be tempted to drink more than is good for you, think on Archie Kerr, last night, and I am sure that will restrain you."

CHAP. VI.

When Mr. Armstrong made his appearance, after breakfast, he said, Helen was doing as well as he could wish. She was likely to have the disease very easily; and he hoped, in a few days, would be quite well. "I wish," added he, "that poor little Marion Scott may do as well. She is a delicate creature, and her fever ran very high when I left her yesterday." He added, he was going higher up the dale, and would not return till the evening, and that he would see Helen on his way back. He spoke this on the step of the door, as he was going out. John heard it, and, running up to Mr. Martin, asked him if he might go up with Mr. Armstrong as far as Mr. Scott's, "just to hear how poor Marion is, this morning, Sir." "Certainly, my dear, I am glad that you thought of it; for I am very anxious to hear of her myself. But, stop a moment, I will get you something for her that may be useful; as it is not likely that Mrs. Scott should have any herself." So saying, he went up to his wife, and asked her for a pot of black currant jelly, of which a country clergyman's wife always takes care to have a good supply, for the benefit of her poorer neighbours. John having got his affairs carefully packed by Nelly, in a wicker basket, set out at a good pace after Mr. Armstrong. As he walked along he could not help remembering in what very different circumstance he had walked that very road, only three days before. "Dear me," said he to himself, "who could have thought that so very happy a day should have produced such melancholy events? Here are we, all in sickness and anxiety, instead of singing and conversing so pleasantly as we then did. I may just as well be at the hill now, as with the Minister; for, even though Miss Helen should get well, (which I hope and trust she will,) there can be no long walks for a great while again. I remember, when I had this troublesome disease, I was not able to run about, strongly, for nearly three months." As he passed by Mr. Elliott's cottage, he gave it a look, and said, "Well, I wish Miss Helen could live at that pretty place, when she grows to be a woman; but I don't see how it can well happen, unless, indeed, Master William should become a great man, (as why should he not? He is my master's own son; and he is surely the best man in Eskdale;) then, to be sure, he may very likely buy the farm, to please his sister, and live at it with her; oh, dear! how I should like to see that day."

With such like airy castle building John amused himself till he reached Mr. Scott's where he heard that Marion still continued very ill.

"I am so glad you have brought us the jelly," said Mrs. Scott, "for her throat is very sore, and our own minister's family are all gone to Edinburgh. The General Assembly is coming on, and he is a member this year." The _General Assembly_ is a meeting of clergymen, chosen from the different districts of Scotland. They assemble at Edinburgh once a year, to judge and determine on the church affairs, that are brought before them, from all parts of the country.

John only waited to hear how Marion was, and then with a sorrowful heart, prepared to depart, when he saw Mr. Scott coming towards him. Mr. Scott had a bunch of cuttings, from the hot-house plants in his hands, and, holding them out to John, he said, "Here, yonker; You may have these, if you like to take the trouble of carrying them; and, if you take pains and put them into pots, they will grow and be very pretty; but you must water them regularly, and in cold weather keep them within doors. I dare say Mrs. Martin will thank you for them. If you will step with me into the tool-house, I will give you some pots; for, perhaps, there may not be any at the Minister's house."

John very thankfully accepted this offer, and Mr. Scott putting half a dozen within each other, contrived to stow them into the wicker basket. At first the delight which John felt at bringing home such a treasure, prevented him from feeling the great weight of the basket; but he had not walked far before he was obliged to put it down and stop to rest. He took it up again, but the further he walked the oftener was he obliged to stop; for Mr. Scott had considered more the size of the pots that his plants required, than the strength of the carrier. "Oh, dear!" said John, at last, "I do believe I shall be kept as long upon the road, with this heavy basket, as Archie Kerr was in going to Langholm. What shall I do with it? I cannot be so very ungrateful as to leave it on the road, after Mr. Scott has been so kind as to give the pots to me; and how I shall get it home, I am sure, I do not know. It will be dark night before I can reach the Manse."

Just as he took it up, to proceed a little farther, he heard the voice of some one singing near the spot where he was: he listened, and thought it came from the river side; but the trees that grew in that direction prevented him from seeing. He therefore put down his basket and ran across the road, to try if he could discover whether it was any one he knew; and, to his great delight, found it was Tom, David Little's son. Tom, as soon as he saw John, skipped up to him and shook hands most cordially. "I am so glad to see you," said he, "for you will tell Miss Helen that my chickens are all alive yet; and mammy says if they live another week, I shall then be pretty sure of rearing them, if I take care always to shut them up at night, to prevent the fox from getting at them. They are nasty, greedy, cruel creatures, these foxes and mammy says, I cannot be too watchful to preserve my chickens from them; for they are very cunning, and are always ready to seize the first opportunity of snapping up any thing that is left in their way." John agreed, that all Tom said was quite true; for he remembered, he had suffered himself from the depredations; having had a whole brood of young ducks devoured in one night, when he lived near Langholm. He then told Tom the distress he was in about his basket. Tom immediately cried, "O, I will tell you how we will manage. Do you take out three of the pots, and give them to me; and I will carry them as far as the Manse for you; for my mammy will not expect me home for two hours. She bade me go out and give Colly a walk; for he is quite stupid, and even ill, for want of his usual exercise on the hills; so I thought I would come down the glen and see the place where my daddy fell; and, do you know the sensible beast ran directly up to the place, and lifted up in his mouth my daddy's whip, which had been left there, I suppose, ever since that terrible night. Look at it. It is a good whip, and my daddy will be glad to have it back again; for he gave a shilling for it the last time he went to Langhold with his master's cart; and surely he grudged the price, but he was obliged to have it, for he could not drive the cart home without it." "Well," said John, "if you really think, Tom, that your mammy won't be frightened at your being so long, I shall be much obliged to you to help me with my load; and I shall perhaps be able, some day, to do you a favour, when you stand in as much need of assistance as I do now."

Having divided the load, they found they could now very easily get along; and they went on chatting, till all at once John recollected the measles. "My dear Tom," asked he, "pray, tell me, have you ever had the measles?"

"No," replied Tom, "I have never had them, and mammy is very particular in telling me, never go into any of the houses in the glen when they are there. All the children, round us, had them last summer, but mammy never let us go down the steps till they were quite gone, and so we escaped; but why do you ask?"

John was silent for a minute, thinking how nearly he had led the poor little fellow into a danger his mother had taken so much pains to guard him against: he then said, "Tom, we must stop, and you must go home directly. I dare say I shall manage to get the basket home some way or other; but you must, on no account, go near the Manse. Miss Helen has got the measles and is very ill. Besides," continued John, "poor Marion Scott has got them very bad indeed, and I think you had best go home directly and tell your mammy, for the disease will soon spread all around, and I think you will be safest up the steps at this time, as you were last summer." "I shall not like that at all," said Tom, "I was so tired living up there. I was just as Colly is, and I dare say it will be the believe, John, you are right; for it would never do for any of us to be ill when my daddy is in the bed, and we are all obliged, till he is better, to sleep on some straw, in the inner room, that we may not disturb him. But tell Miss Helen all about the chickens, and that I am very sorry to hear she is ill. Good bye to you, I hope you may meet somebody else who has had the measles, and then they need not be afraid of helping you home with the basket."

John was really glad when he saw Tom fairly gone. The consequences of the poor child catching the disease, at this time, appeared to him dreadful; and he began to think how fortunate he had been in recollecting the measles before he had brought him into the Manse. With this comfortable reflection, John trudged on with the basket, and, occupied with this own thoughts, he did not feel the weight so overpowering as he had done before he met Tom; he was however, obliged at last again to stop. As he was resting himself, he saw a girl, about twelve years old, running down the holm towards him. When she came up, she said "You don't know me, John Telfer; but I am Peggy Oliphant, Mr. Elliott's herd-girl, that lives up in that cottage, (pointing to the very cottage John had been planning for Master William,) and Tom Little, whom I met as I was coming down, asked me to run forward and help you with your basket, as I am going as far as Langholm, on an errand of my mistress; you need not be afraid to let me go to the Manse, for I have had the measles, and so has all my master's children; we all had them last year."

"Thank you, Peggy," said John, "it is very kind of you, and very attentive, in such a little boy as Tom is, to think of me and my basket; I am sure I shall be glad of your assistance, for I am quite tired with it." "Oh!" answered Peggy, "I shall do it with the greatest pleasure, that, or any thing else, for any one that belongs to our good Minister; I was sorely vexed to hear that Miss Helen was so bad. But have you heard the news?" "No," answered John, "what is it?" "As I was taking away the breakfast things this morning, Nanny being busy about something in the kitchen, I heard my master read in the paper, that Capt. Elliott, your mistress's brother, had been fighting with a French frigate, and had taken her; and that he had brought her into some port in England, but I forget the name. My master said he was glad of it, for the Captain was a brave fellow, and an honour to the name of Elliott: and my mistress added, now Mrs. Martin will get a sight of her only brother; in the last letter he wrote to her, he promised that the first time he came into port, he would endeavour to get leave of absence, to come down and see his old mother, from whom he had been absent now for ten years."

"This is news, indeed, Peggy," replied John. "I am sure I wish it may be true. I only hope he may not come before Miss Helen is better, for that would spoil all my mistress's pleasure." Peggy and John went chatting along till they reached the Manse, when they parted, John thanking her very heartily for the assistance she had given him in carrying the flowerpots.

As soon as he got in, he went and tapped at the study door. "Come in, John," said Mr. Martin, "I heard your voice in the kitchen. Pray, how is Marion?" "Very bad, indeed, Sir. Mrs. Scott said she had not slept all night, and was quite delirious this morning. Mr. Armstrong said, that he hoped the measles would be fully out by the evening, and he thought she would then be better." After John had finished delivering his message, he stood still and seemed hesitating whether to go or remain. Mr. Martin at last observed this, and asked him if he had any thing more to say. "Why, yes, Sir, if I thought that it would be right to tell you what I have heard; but as it was only Peggy Oliphant that told me, I am afraid it may not be true; as, I think, you or my mistress would have had a letter yourselves, if the news had been really what she says." "What is it, my dear, that you have heard? Peggy Oliphant's news I think cannot be of any great consequence." "Yes, but it is, Sir, should it be true; for she says her master read in the paper this morning that Capt. Elliott has taken a French ship and has brought her safe to England." "That is indeed important, John, and I must lose no time in ascertaining the truth of it. Have you mentioned this story to any one but me?" "No, Sir, not a word; I thought it best to come and tell it to you directly." "That is right, my man; now you must promise not to tell any other person a word of the matter till I return; I shall go up to Mr. Elliott's and see the paper myself, before I say any thing to my wife, least it should prove some mistake of Peggy Oliphant's."

Mr. Martin set out immediately for Mr. Elliott's, saying to his wife, he was going to take a little walk. And John, having asked how Miss Helen was, and heard she was continuing better, set about planting his greenhouse slips. He found he had two or three different kinds of geraniums, a rose-bush, and one or two myrtles. "O," said he to Nelly, who stood by while he planted them, "I wish they may thrive, I shall have such pleasure in giving them to Miss Helen, when she is better. Do you think the Minister would let them stand in the study window, if I was to ask him? for the sun shines best there, and I will take great care not to make any dirt when I water them in the evening; you know, Nelly, I am to come here every night to read to the Minister, and I can water them then." "You come here every night to read to the Minister! You are surely dreaming, child; what can you mean?" "Indeed and in very truth, I am saying nothing but what he told me himself; and besides that he has settled it all with Mr. Laurie; I am sure it is very kind of him: but, Nelly, do you know, I am half afraid to come to him as a scholar, for when my poor father used to teach me, I was sometimes very stupid and could not understand what he told me? Now, if I should be so with the Minister, what will become of me? I cannot expect him to have the patience with me that my father had; and if he should be very angry with me, I shall be so frightened I shall wish I had refused his kind offer; it must be a fearful thing to make the Minister angry." "It is both a fearful thing and a wicked thing," answered Nelly; "but there is one comfort for you, it is not very easily done. If it really is as you say, that master his own self will condescend to teach you, James Telfer, the shoemaker's son, to read! you must try, with all your might, to learn as fast as you can, that you may give him as little trouble as possible. Refuse, indeed, such an offer! you would have made him angry in good earnest then, I believe, and with some reason. But," continued she, "above all things, be obedient, and do all he desires you." Then, after being silent a little, she said, as if to herself, "I should think he might have had enough of teaching, after all the trouble and sorrow his own son cost him. I am sure, if that little violent monkey had not been sent to school, he would have been the death of my master. I never wish to hear of his teaching boys again, so little like sweet Miss Helen; but it is all out of charity, I see that very well; just like his kind heart."

Nelly proceeded now to prepare for dinner, and John, after planting his slips, carried them to the green, and set them all in a row, that Mr. Martin might see them, and give him an opportunity of asking his leave to place them on the outside of his window. He had but just got them all ready, when seeing Mr. Martin walking very quick up the lane, he ran to open the gate. "It is all true, John." said his master. "Capt. Elliott has really gained a great victory. It will be quite a cordial to your mistress in the midst of her present uneasiness." So saying, without observing John's plants, he hastened into the house, and went up to rejoice his wife's heart with the good news. Helen was too unwell to be told any thing of the matter at that time, as her mother was afraid of agitating her.

After dinner Mr. Martin observed from his window the flowerpots standing on the green. "Where can these great flowerpots have come from?" asked he. "Look at them, my dear, I cannot think who can have put them there." "I am sure I don't know," said she, "how they came there, but we can soon ring and ask." John was upon the watch, and as soon as he understood what was wanted, came forward and made his request. "Certainly, my dear, you may place them where you please; they are very pretty, and I think from their appearance, they are likely to do you credit. Helen will be very proud of her present; but how did you get the pots? I really did not know I had such a thing in the garden." "I brought them with me from Mr. Scott's," said John. "He gave me them with the plants." "Why, you surely did not carry these heavy pots all that long way." "No, Sir, I cannot say that I carried them _all_ the way, for Tom Little carried some of them, until I thought of the measles, and then I sent him back. Peggy Oliphant helped me down the holm, and it was then she told me the story of Capt. Elliott." "Upon my word, John, you are a very active little fellow, and deserve to succeed in what you undertake, you are so persevering; I only hope I shall find you equally industrious when you begin your reading lessons with me; you remember we are to keep school for the first time tomorrow evening." "Yes, Sir, I shall be sure to remember," said John as he left the room.

CHAP. VII.

In the evening he took leave of Mr. Martin's family, with a very sorrowful heart, and set off for Mr. Laurie's. When he reached the house, the maid bade him come in and sit down near the fire. The other servants began to assemble, and in about ten minutes the supper was ready. It consisted of boiled potatoes and whey, the common supper for farm servants. Jeannie, the cook, then pressed John to eat: "he is shy yet, poor thing; but you need not be afraid, if you are a good boy. Our master will be very kind to you; and Will, the shepherd, is one of the drollest and best natured fellows in the dale, and will keep you laughing all day long, when he goes to the hill with you. You had best take care of his tricks, however, for he is very fond of playing them off upon people, but they are always harmless." Just as she finished this consoling address the door opened, and in came Will, the shepherd. He was a stout, sun-burnt, good-looking man of about thirty years of age, fun and good nature being strongly expressed in his face. "Ah! have you all begun, and not waited for me? I think that is not very good manners, considering that I am the life of the company," he said, laughing, as he drew his chair near the table: "and whom have we among us in this corner, looking so grave? I dare say it is my new herd-boy, that our master was talking about this morning. Come, man, cheer up, we shall be as merry as grigs to-morrow on the hill. You'll never have a grave face in my company, I promise you, long together." "I have been telling him, Will," said Jeannie, "I was sure you would be kind to him, so that he had no need to be frightened. And indeed," continued she, in a sort of whisper, "who would not be kind to a poor orphan boy like him?" "Now my lad," said Will, "I must try what you are good for, and send you on your first errand. Go into the stable for me; it stands on the left hand as you go out, and at the back of the door you will see a coat hanging up; put your hand in to the pocket, and bring me a whistle you will find there. I have been making it, Jeannie, for your nephew, Tom Little; poor fellow, he was so good natured the other day, in running down to help me to drive the sheep over the hill; he is too young yet to be a herd; but if he live he will be a fine, active, spirited fellow, some day. I promised him a whistle, and I never break my word."