CHAPTER XXX.

“THE BESTEST BEST.”

“Well, now my dear Faith, do tell me as clearly as you can what has happened. I find poor Di dangerously ill, and Andrew shut up in deep disgrace, and I hear that all through Andrew’s fault, the little French boy has broken his leg very badly. And whenever I ask for an explanation, it all seems to begin and end with a bee-room and a bee-hive. What does it all mean?”

It was poor Mrs. Durand who spoke.

She was tired out by her hurried journey from the North, and shocked by the disturbed condition in which she found Gaybrook Farm and all its inmates, and was really at her wit’s ends to comprehend what chain of events could have resulted in these dire consequences.

“It all happened in this way,” began Faith, with a heavy sigh. “Di found out that there was a mysterious door in the house, which no one had opened for about a hundred years. And as nobody would satisfy her curiosity as to what was in the room, and why it had been left closed so long, she determined to discover it for herself. So she and Andrew agreed to force open the door, and they chose the day when we had all gone to the fair to do it.”

“And that door belonged to the bee-room, I suppose,” said Mrs. Durand.

“Yes,” answered Faith, who then went on to give Nanny’s explanation concerning that wonderful hive of monster dimensions and of extraordinary long standing, and told how it had been the boast of the Bussons, from father to son, that no one should disturb those winged intruders.

“And you mean to tell me that those naughty children broke into that room,” cried Mrs. Durand. “No wonder such terrible results followed.”

“Indeed, they were terrible,” said Faith. “Poor Libbie will talk of that afternoon for the rest of her life, I am sure. And oh, mother, you can’t think how angry the farmer was, and what a bad time poor Mrs. Busson has had in consequence. That was why we thought that, after all, Andrew was very lucky to get off with no worse punishment than being dressed up in a monster bee-hive, and tied up to the flag-staff on the top of the mound in the orchard. Of course, it was dreadful to be made such a laughing stock to everyone, and it must have been very tiring and disagreeable altogether,” went on Fay, entering more fully into various details of Andrew’s form of punishment; “but,” she wound up, “though it was hard on Andrew to be forgotten, and left to himself, it was too mean of him to make poor little Gaston stand up there in--”

“Oh, but Gaston did offer,” broke in Phoena; “at least, this is what I make out happened from Gaston. He felt so sorry for Andrew, left behind in such dreadful disgrace, that he ran back from us, and went and hid in his favourite ditch, so that he might be within speaking distance of Andrew, and yet not be seen. Then it seems that when Andrew went on crying out so, and imploring that somebody would come and take his place, only just to keep the straw erection upright and visible, whilst he rested,--because, you see,” explained Phoena, “Mr. Busson said, if he saw Andrew move, he would beat him--Gaston came out of his ditch, and offered to help him.”

“Then did Gaston take his place in the bee-hive?” asked Mrs. Durand, “and so set Andrew free?”

“Yes,” said Phoena, “the idea was that he should only stay there for just long enough to give Andrew time to stretch his legs, and rest for a few minutes; for Gaston said the weight of that straw was very tiring, and Andrew promised that if Gaston would undertake not to move from the chair, he would only just go round the orchard, and come back again, and set him free.”

“And didn’t Andrew keep his word?”

“No,” said Phoena, “instead of minutes, he left Gaston standing there hour after hour, for he would not break his promise--Gaston wouldn’t, I mean,--till at last, worn out with weariness, and want of food, he fell off the chair, and broke his leg.”

“You see,” explained Faith, “Gaston wasn’t tied to the back of the chair, as the farmer had been careful to tie Andrew, so that he might have a support at his back; for when Gaston had set him free, Andrew was only in such a hurry to get off himself, that he did nothing for Gaston. So poor Gaston had nothing to lean against. Oh, mother, I am ashamed of Andrew, I am ashamed of him,” wound up poor Fay, tearfully.

“The boys say that they will never speak to him again,” said Phoena.

“None of you will have the chance of doing so for some time to come,” said Mrs. Durand; “for I had already arranged for him to go to a tutor, in Edinburgh, where I hope he will be taught better ways, and now I shall telegraph to Sarah to come and fetch him away this very afternoon, and keep him with her at home, till I can settle for his journey north. It will depend on his behaviour there, if I allow him to come home at Christmas.”

“It was a terrible pity,” said Fay, “that he and Di ever thought of breaking into that room. Is it really true, mother, that yesterday the doctor thought that Di might never get better?”

“It is indeed,” said Mrs. Durand, “and though he hopes now, that by God’s mercy she may recover, Dr. Forbes says that it will be long before Di is quite well again. She has had a sharp lesson for her disobedience, which she will never forget all her life. And now, children, as regards poor, dear little Gaston, we must all think what we can do for him,” added Mrs. Durand.

“He’ll have to have the golden prize,” cried Hubert, coming into the room, so as to catch the last words, “for we all agreed, didn’t we? that the one who did the unselfishest thing, and the thing that hurt themselves the most, should be called the bestest of them all.”

* * * * *

The pride of the summer was gone, as Mrs. Busson termed it. The harvest fields had been cleared, and the apple-gathering was about to begin, when the grand feast, which was to celebrate the achievements of the Knights of the Order of Good Intentions, was at last held.

Matters had turned out very differently from what they had expected, when the children had first planned it all.

Andrew was away in disgrace, and Gaston, though he made a brave show of being well again, was still on crutches, whilst as to Diana, with her white face, and closely-shaven head, she looked like nothing but a thin, pale ghost of the merry “scarlet-runner” of the earlier summer days. If the truth must be told, Di, who had not distinguished herself, especially either by her patience or gentleness during her illness, was never heard again to jeer about “pillow-case saints.”

“Yes, it has all ended very differently from what we thought,” said Faith; “and it seems so odd to think that by this time to-morrow every one of us will be far away from here, even Gaston.”

For to Gaston’s great joy, his favourite uncle was coming the next day to take him back to France, and the others were all leaving for home by the morning train.

To all, the end of their eventful visit to Gaybrook had come.

Of course, Gaston was the hero of the day.

Ever since his accident, the children had vied with each other in making much of him, whilst Jack and Phil had delighted Gaston beyond words, by declaring that there was not a fellow in their school who would have stuck more pluckily to his guns than Gaston had stuck to his bee-hive.

“And you are glad that you have won the golden prize, aren’t you, Gaston; werry glad?” said Marygold,--she had claimed to sit next to him at the feast--“and you will be ever so proud to show it to your uncle.”

“Ah, but,” broke in Hubert, “you don’t know everything yet,” and he and Marygold laughed mysteriously.

For before that day was done, there was another surprise in store for Gaston. Another gift was to crown that proud day.

This was revealed, when, at the end of the banquet, all the boys suddenly disappeared, and all the girls became too excited to be able to answer clearly Gaston’s questions as to the boys’ movements.

Presently they re-appeared, scampering across the paddock, Jack and Phil leading a little Welsh pony between them, with Hubert perched on its back.

“For it’s saddled, and bridled, and shod, you see,” cried Marygold, dancing round Gaston in wild delight, “and though it’s not much bigger than Dragon, the watch-dog, it’s dreffully strong, and goes very fast.”

“And it’s to go back with you to France,” put in Hubert, “because, Phoena says, a real knight _must_ have a steed.”

Gaston was beside himself with joy and astonishment.

Ever since he had seen the boys ride, the possession of a pony had been the theme of his wildest dreams, and now he could hardly trust his eyes and ears. It seemed as if the fairies, he still loved to believe in, had brought him the fulfilment of his dearest wish, straight from fairyland.

The weeks at Gaybrook had been mostly sad and sorrow-stained, but now this one golden day would gild all his memories of the English farm for ever.

“But, but,” he cried, “who gives it me, who did think of it?”

“We have all joined together to get it for you,” said Phil, “infants and all.”

“And Andrew sent all his year’s savings out of the bank,” said Faith.

“Poor Andrew,” said Gaston, deeply touched, “but--but how came the idea to your heads, how came it then?”

“How did you get the idea to help Andrew?” laughed Di.

“Oh, but that was quite different,” said Gaston, “that came, because I did know so exactly, oh, so very exactly, what he was feeling.”

“But then,” asked Marygold, in genuine astonishment, “but then, Gaston, had you ever been tied up in a bee-hive?”

“No,” said Gaston, simply, “but I had been lonely, too.”

* * * * *

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

she was nurse to years ago=> she was nurse two years ago {pg 2}

their natual protectors=> their natural protectors {pg 10}

Andrew annouced after dinner=> Andrew announced after dinner {pg 29}

to be ignominously routed=> to be ignominiously routed {pg 46}

It you were one of our fellows at school=> If you were one of our fellows at school {pg 99}

hopping and and dancing a little=> hopping and dancing a little {pg 118}

Gaston dashed passed me=> Gaston dashed past me {pg 119}

Dalzant’s Martha’s contemptuous pity=> Delzant’s Martha’s contemptuous pity {pg 120}

pommes de terre sautèes=> pommes de terre sautées {pg 120}

teasing was quite as merciless as the boys=> teasing was quite as merciless as the boys’ {pg 130}

By this time, Di’s curiousity=> By this time, Di’s curiosity {pg 134}

you do know all about it quite well, you only pretending not to=> you do know all about it quite well, you are only pretending not to {pg 135}

There wouldn’t be be much real=> There wouldn’t be much real {pg 152}

said Lobbie=> said Libbie {pg 154}

It sound rather eerie, doesn’t it?=> It sounds rather eerie, doesn’t it? {pg 155}

cried Hubert and Marygold in one breadth=> cried Hubert and Marygold in one breath {pg 162}

These dorlorous plaints=> These dolorous plaints {pg 187}