OUR DEN

BY

E. M. WATERWORTH,

Author of "Master Lionel, That Tiresome Child," etc.

LONDON: S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO. 9, Paternoster Row.

CHAPTER I. The Savages are Expected

CHAPTER II. They Arrive—Unexpectedly

CHAPTER III. Our Den is Fortified

CHAPTER IV. Fish or Fowl for Supper

CHAPTER V. Tied to the Bell Buoy

CHAPTER VI. Punishment and Escape

CHAPTER VII. The Mysterious Visitor

CHAPTER VIII. The Oak Chest

CHAPTER IX. The Mystery Deepens

CHAPTER X. How the Stranger Helped

CHAPTER XI. A Day of Surprises

CHAPTER XII. The Lost Will

OUR DEN.

CHAPTER I. The Savages are Expected.

"I think it is our duty, John."

"Stuff and nonsense. How can it be our duty to turn our house into a bear-garden for the sake of a lot of young savages? Let them spend their holidays at school."

I was reading, as I generally was in those days, but the word "savages" made me look up. It was fun reading about such people, but I was not at all sure that I should care to see even one alive, and here was father talking about a lot of them.

Mother laughed merrily. Somehow, she generally did laugh when other people would have cried; and I know now that it was mother's merry laugh that made the sunshine of our home.

"Why, John, how can you make savages into bears? They would not even hug you if you looked as fierce as you do now."

Then glancing towards my little sofa, mother's face became sweetly grave as she added in a low voice, "Besides, dear, we should like people to be good to Edric if we were not here; and, after all, they may do him good. You know the London doctor said he would have more chance of getting strong if he had plenty of play with brothers and sisters, instead of always having a book in his hand."

The colour came to my face, and I turned hot and cold all over, while I listened for father's answer. It was about six months since they had taken me to London to see a famous physician, and I had never heard them mention what he had said about me. I was the only child, and, owing to a fall downstairs when I was quite a tiny trot, there was a slight curvature in my spine. I did not know what was the matter then, but I knew that I was not like other children.

I dreaded the noise which my few friends made in the room when they came to see me. I had lived in an iron frame for about two years; and when I was taken out of it, and was supposed to be allowed to walk a little, the desire to move had gone. My parents did not like to urge me, and so six months passed away and I was still carried from room to room, still lay reading most of the day, and was quietly content. It was only now and then that mother's anxious look at me told that she was not satisfied; father and I seemed to have made up our minds that I was to be an invalid for the rest of my life, so I listened anxiously for his answer to mother's remark about the doctor.

"Do you really think it would do the boy good to be tormented by a lot of rough, strong children? Then let them come, but keep them out of my sight. I hate noise almost as much as Edric does."

"I had settled all that, dear, before I ever spoke to you about it. There's the tower room—it is big and airy, and right at the top of the house—I thought they should have that for their playroom."

"You'd better call it their den at once," said father, leaning over my shoulder to read the title of my book. "There are about twenty panes of glass in it now. I wonder how many whole ones there will be when the holidays are over. How do you like the idea of the invasion of the savages, my boy?" he added, in the tender tone in which he always addressed me.

"Who are they, father?" I asked, laying my thin white hand in his brown, strong one.

"Your Uncle George's children, dear. He sent them to school at Bath, and intended to be in England for their summer holidays, but he was prevented from leaving Sydney just at the last minute; and your Aunt Mary has written to ask if we will let them all spend the time here. There are four of them, three boys and a girl who is as big a boy as any of them, I believe. What do you think of it, Edric?"

"I think I shall like seeing Cousin Kathleen," I said, rather shyly; even with my parents it was rather difficult for me to speak my thoughts. "She has often sent nice messages to me, and this is the book-marker she made for me. Perhaps she will read to me, and show me how to play chess."

"We will burn all those books, lad," said father, sweeping a little heap off my sofa to the floor. "Let me carry you out to see the high tide."

"Not just now, father, please," I said, cuddling the last remaining book in my arms. "I want to see what becomes of Rupert in the Redskins' camp."

"That's good," said father, laughing heartily. "Your eldest cousin's name is Rupert, and we shall soon be wanting to know what becomes of Edric in Rupert's den."

"When are they coming?" I asked, with a faint trembling at my heart. Mother had taught me to be kind in my thoughts of every one, but I began to be a little afraid of these stranger cousins.

"They may be here next week; but I am not sure what day the school breaks up."

"Well, I will go and see about getting the tower room ready," said mother, when father had gone out to look at a new horse which he had bought for the farm. "Do you want anything before I go, darling?"

"No, thank you, mother."

As she bent down to kiss me before she left me, mother looked longingly into my face.

"I believe you look better already, dear. Don't you think that—— Why, darling, what's the matter; there are tears in your eyes."

Of course it was silly for a boy of twelve to begin to cry because his cousins were coming to stay with him, but I feel bound to let you know the whole truth about myself. I couldn't possibly say what I was crying for, but I suppose that I was in a weak and morbid state.

"You'll love me still, mother, won't you," I whispered, clinging to her neck; "and you won't let them make me do anything I don't want to?"

Poor mother! If I had only known, that was just the very reason she wanted my cousins to come; but she comforted me, and promised faithfully I should be left to myself as much as I liked.

"They will have their den, as your father calls it, and you needn't go in it unless you like. Now I will go and see about getting it ready. It will want brightening up a bit. Nobody has ever used it since I have lived here, and that is nearly fourteen years. Good-bye, dear; don't read too much."

She had her hand on the door before I could summon courage to speak what was in my mind.

"I've never been in the tower room, mother. Do you think I might go with you, just to see it before they come?"

CHAPTER II. They Arrive—Unexpectedly.

There was a joyous ring in my dear mother's voice as she called out of the window for father to carry me upstairs; and I noticed that they both looked at each other with a satisfied nod as I was deposited on a long Rattan chair, which, with the exception of a great oak chest, was the only piece of furniture in the den.

It was a glorious day in July. The tower room was almost walled with glass on three sides, and looking out I saw such a view as I had never imagined could be seen from our own house. In front of me I could gaze across the field to the back-water of the river which made our farm into an island at high tide; beyond that, again, lay a narrow neck of land, then the main stream, which, running to the left, widened and widened till it entered into the sea. Across the river were some few houses of a small seaside town, and beyond those houses I knew was the sea; the open sea on which I had never been but once. I knew that summer after summer yachts sailed from the pier at Craigstown round the Eagle Point, and up the river to the old watermill, or from the mill to the pier. Sometimes I would watch the tops of the sails from my bedroom window; but I could see little more, and never wished to be in the vessels. Here in the tower room I could see the whole course of the river when mother dragged my chair to the different windows, and I exclaimed, "Oh! I am glad I came, mother: doesn't the water

look lovely?"

"Yes, darling, it is a very high tide to-day. If you look down there to the right of that large tree you will see that our road to Craigstown is quite covered up. They may well call this Island Farm; you would have to swim across the little stream whichever way you wanted to go now. Now, Edric, you can help me; tell me what I shall put in this room to make it nice for your cousins. Remember, their parents are thousands of miles away, and we must try to make them happy. Fancy how you would feel if you were in Australia without me."

I didn't fancy it at all; but I know what mother meant, and suggested that first one thing and then another should be brought upstairs. There was my tool chest—of course I should never use it; it was such a funny thing for father to give me. I did not realize that he had bought it hoping to rouse me to try to use some of the tools. There was a box of lovely stone bricks. I could play with them, and used to enjoy making designs out of my own head, which pleased my parents and made them prophesy that I should be an architect some day. There were paint boxes and puzzles. There was even a fishing rod and a landing net; I almost laughed when mother brought them up from a cupboard in my room.

"It seems a pity that father should buy me such things, doesn't it, mother?" I said, and then I felt sorry. Mother came across the room to me, and said softly, "You see, dear, the London doctor said he quite hoped that you would be able to get about like other children some day, though you would always have a little twist in your back, which would prevent you being as straight and strong as they are. Your father loves you so, that he cannot bear to think you ore different from others; and so he keeps giving you things just as if you were well and strong, hoping that some day you will be able to use them. Now where shall I put this flag?"

You would not believe what a change mother made in the room. By dinner time it looked quite pretty; and I was actually so hungry that I was glad when the dinner bell sounded, and father came up the creaky stairs two at a time to carry me down.

"I think the change of rooms has done you good, laddie," he said, as he took me in his arms. "You had better have that Rattan chair moved, Mary," he added to my mother; "there won't be much of it left by September if you don't."

"Oh, don't move it, please, father," I said. "It will do so nicely for me to lie in when I go there."

"So it's going to be your den as well as theirs, is it, young man? And, pray, what do you think we shall feel like when we come into this room and see your empty sofa?"

Glancing at father, to see how much he meant, I fancied that there was a merry twinkle in his eye. At all events, I am certain that we had a brighter dinner than we generally had, and I remember particularly that I asked for a second helping of meat.

"What shall I bring you from Colchester?" said father, after dinner. "I am going to try the new mare, and I'll bring you back anything you like to name up to five shillings."

"There's a new book of Kingston's, father—I forget the title—if you wouldn't mind getting that. I have nearly finished Rupert and the Redskins."

"Oh, no more books," said father, impatiently. "I'd like to burn the lot of them. I'd rather buy you a cricket bat. There, don't look miserable, laddie. You shall have the book, but I'd give a five-pound note to hear you say, 'Take me with you in the dog-cart.' Now, good-bye. I shan't be starting for another hour, till the tide is down, but I don't suppose you will see me again before I go. Shall I send a telegram to Bath to say the youngsters can come? Perhaps they will like to look forward to it. And is there anything else you want, to rig up their den?"

We both laughed, and mother said something about believing father would be delighted to see the savages after all.

"Oh! I don't care, as long as you keep them out of my way. I'll bring them a couple of boxes of soldiers; that's sure to keep them quiet for a time."

"Girls don't like soldiers," I remarked.

"Don't they, though, if they have half a dozen brothers and no sister. I suppose you'd like me to buy Miss Kathleen a workbox, and she wouldn't know which finger to put the thimble on, I'll be bound. What on earth is that?"

Well might he ask. A succession of shouts and yells, interspersed with loud "C-o-o-e-e, c-o-o-e-e," disturbed the usual placid silence which reigned on a summer afternoon in our island farm, especially when the tide was up, and we were cut off from the mainland.

Angry expostulations from some of the labourers followed; and then, to our utter amazement, there appeared on the lawn at our open window three figures, dripping from head to foot.

CHAPTER III. Our Den is Fortified

"Stand back! Stand back!" shouted father, as the boys made straight for our new carpet. "Who in the world are you?"

"Don't you know us, uncle?" said the eldest, shaking the water from him like a Newfoundland dog. "The old fellow drove us from Colchester station, and actually wanted us to wait the other side of that stream till the tide went down. It wasn't likely we should do that, was it? So we just walked through. Kathleen got her shoe stuck in the mud, but she's coming along presently. Now, aren't you glad to see us, uncle?"

There was something irresistible in the impudent, freckled face turned up to father's; and although my first thought was that Rupert was decidedly ugly, I soon came to see that there was the beauty of goodness in eyes and mouth and general expression.

Mother was the first to regain her self-possession.

"You naughty children," she said, stepping out on the lawn, "you will catch your death of cold, and I suppose you haven't even got any other clothes to put on. Edric's won't fit any of you but Harold."

"Don't you fret, auntie," said Jack, who had been capering about, and leaving little rivulets of water wherever he went. "We don't think anything of wet clothes, we just run about till they are dry."

"But where's your box?" said father.

"It's the other side of the water," said Rupert, laughing; "I know now what King John felt like when he lost all his luggage in the Wash. We lost half our things in the wash at school, and now we've lost the other half in your Wash. My word, hasn't the tide gone down quick! The old fellow was right after all. Why, it's only up to Kathleen's ankles now. Here she comes, shoes and all. Ugh! go away, you horrid, wet girl."

A well-aimed shoeful of water went over Jack's head, and then with a queer, uneven step, due to having one shoe off and one on, my Cousin Kathleen advanced to greet my father and mother.

"What do you think of that, Uncle John?" she said, putting her dry arm round his neck. "Those naughty boys left me to get on as well as I could with one foot stuck in the mud; but I'll pay them out. Ah, there's Cousin Edric," and there was such a change in the merry face, that a glow of pleasure spread over mine.

"We know each other already, don't we, dear? Isn't it lovely to think that we are going to be here six whole weeks? Can't you really walk, Edric?"

There was something so very funny in the whole scene, the dripping boys outside, the girl with hat thrown back and tumbled, curly hair, with skirts wet to the waist, and one shoe in her hand, that I burst out laughing. Of course, everyone joined, and it was thus that we received the savages into our home circle. But mother now interposed, and marched them all off to their bedrooms, while father sent a man in one of the carts to fetch the boxes, which the Colchester fly-driver had so unceremoniously deposited on the other side of the stream.

We found out in the course of time, that the boys' school had been suddenly closed, owing to the death of the master's wife. My cousins had heard from their father that they would probably spend the summer holidays with us, and the master had thought it best to send them straight to us, taking their sister with them. The telegram which should have prepared us for their arrival, came about half an hour after we were all sitting down to tea.

What a tea that was! Father was, of course, away, having merely looked in to say good-bye to me and whisper, "Don't let the young rogues tire you, laddie; they can go upstairs to their own room. I shall be back in time to carry you to bed if you stop up a little later than usual."

Kathleen took me under her wing at once. Her chair must be next to my sofa, and she must hand me everything I wanted. We were all ready; I had taken one or two bites of bread and butter, and saw to my surprise that none of my cousins had begun eating.

"Why are you waiting?" asked mother.

"For grace," said Jack, the second boy.

We had always been accustomed to say grace before and after dinner, but it never seemed to have entered our heads to say it at any other meals. I glanced at mother.

"Say it then, dear," she said, kindly, and Rupert said it; then they fell to and made a hearty tea. From that day forward we never forgot to give thanks for every meal which was put before us.

I don't think I ate much, for I was laughing so heartily. It was quite a new phase of life to me, and my cousins seemed so possessed with the spirit of fun that it was quite infectious.

"Now, auntie, where's our den?" said Rupert, when tea was over. "Father had a den in Sydney. He called it his den, but it was the jolliest place in the house, except——"

"Except when Rupert went into a rage and hit Harold, then father told him to meet him in his study, and you should have seen Rupert's face," interposed Jack.

"Rupert ran away and hid under the tank," continued Kathleen, with a broad smile on her face. "The clergyman was staying with us, and he went to fish him out. Rupert saw him coming, and cried out, 'I say, Mr. Wilson, is father after you, too?' You should have heard them laugh. Of course Rupert didn't get his caning, so father's den is still the jolliest place in the house."

"And so will ours be," was the general shout as they filed upstairs behind mother.

The sunshine seemed gone out of the room when they left it. I tried to go on with my reading, but I found myself listening for any sound from the tower room. It was too far away, however, for me to hear anything but the loud bang of the door at the bottom of the little staircase, so I was obliged to go back to my book with a sigh. It was not likely strong, healthy, rackety children would want poor sickly little me.

"Bo! Twopence for your thoughts, Edric. Oh, did I hurt you? I didn't know you would be really frightened. What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," I said, hastily, trying to breathe quietly again, and smiling at Rupert. "You see I am so used to being alone that a sudden noise makes me jump."

"I'm sorry," said Rupert, sitting on the edge of my sofa, and swinging his legs so violently that he almost made my teeth chatter.

"What pretty hair you've got, Edric. It is all wavy like mother's, and just the same colour. You'd have made a splendid girl. There, now, I've hurt you again, and I didn't mean to either. You'll be a big man and a clever one some day, I expect; anyway, no one can call you carrots as they do me. Halloa, Kathleen, what do you want?"

"Let's carry Edric upstairs," said Kathleen; "he can tell us where to find things;" and, before I could say yes or no, they had taken me in their arms, so carefully, so tenderly, that after the first moment I was quite happy.

"There, captain," said Jack, as they pulled the long chair into the middle of the room. "Now we want your orders. This is our castle, but what is a castle without fortifications? You might as well have a plum pudding without any plums! We've got to barricade this place, so that the enemy can't get in unless we wish it."

"But if they can't get in, we can't get out," I said, hastily.