Part 4 (1/2)
Bes' room in de whole house!”
The music had ceased, and Noll left his seat and went groping his way along the dark, echoing hall, through the dimly-lighted dining-room to the library-door. Entering, he found his uncle still seated before the organ, but with his head bent forward upon the music-rack, and apparently lost in deep thought, for he did not look up till Noll stood beside him. Trafford made a faint attempt to smile, and asked,--
”Could Hagar find you anything fit to eat? We can't live here as at Hastings. The sea brings us our food.”
Noll said something about not being hungry, and presently Trafford asked, with the stem and gloomy look upon his face,--
”Did you know that Brother Noll, your father, did a very unwise thing when he put you into my hands?”
Noll started at the strangeness of the question, and the bright color came into his face.
”Do you mean that papa did wrong?” he asked, quickly.
”Yes, so far as your good is concerned. I can be no companion for you.
You would have got more good anywhere else than here.”
”Don't say that, Uncle Richard!” Noll pleaded.
”Why not?” Trafford queried, not unkindly; ”it is the truth.”
”Papa said that you--you--” There was such a choking in Noll's throat that he could get no further, and stopped, looking very much distressed. Trafford took the boy's hand in his own.
”My boy,” he said, huskily, calling him by that t.i.tle for the first time, ”I'm but a poor wreck at best. I can teach you no good, and G.o.d knows I wouldn't be the means of putting a shadow of evil in your heart. Your father says, 'Make him such a man, before G.o.d, as you know I would have him.' He asked too much, Noll. Why, boy, I can't rule myself.” Noll said not a word. Uncle Richard was getting to be more of a mystery to him than Culm Rock had been. ”And,” continued Trafford, ”we will leave the matter thus: you shall be at liberty, after the first month, to go or stay, as you like. If you go, it shall be to stay away forever; if you stay, it shall be at your own risk. Do you understand?”
”Yes, Uncle Richard.”
Trafford saw the boy's lips quiver again, and turned quickly away; the face was so much like his dead brother's. Noll came to him pretty soon, said ”Good-night,” and went away. Hagar guided the boy up to his room, bidding him good-night with many a.s.surances that ”'tw'u'd be pleasanter to-morrow, 'nough sight!” and left him to himself. The stars shone brightly over the sea. Noll could not read his Bible verses that night, for the familiar, precious gift of mamma was locked in the trunk away round the sh.o.r.e at Culm; but he prayed with all the stronger longing for the Saviour's pity and help; and then from his bed by one of the great windows, lay listening to the moaning of the tide below, which seemed the saddest, lonesomest sound he had ever heard. And his heart ached too.
CHAPTER VI.
CULM SIGHTS.
When Noll awoke the next morning, the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly in. It was not until after some long minutes of yawning and rubbing his eyes, that he comprehended where he was; then, with some chills of disappointment, he remembered, and bounded up to look out the window.
The sea lay rippling, cool and fresh below. Here and there faint trails of mist floated and hovered over the waves, but the breeze was fast tearing and blowing them away. With a feeling of delight, he saw on the far horizon-line the white film of shadowy sails. It showed that there was life and stir somewhere, he thought, and it was pleasant to think of them as bound for far-off Hastings. Then he remembered Skipper Ben and the ”White Gull,” and wondered when he would return; and then Mr. Gray's note had not been written, he recollected.
”Well,” thought Noll, ”I'll find time for it to-day, I guess. I wonder if my trunks will come this morning? and--When am I to begin my studies, and who am I to recite to?” This last thought had not entered his head before. There was evidently not a school of any kind upon Culm Rock, and of course Uncle Richard was the only person capable of teaching him anything. ”I wonder if he will offer to teach me?” Noll thought in perplexity, ”or shall I have to ask him? I can't do that!
he's so cold and stern; and besides, I don't believe he would like the trouble. I wonder if I am to grow up like those dull Culm people?” He dressed himself, thinking busily enough of a dozen troublesome matters which had already sprung up to puzzle him, and with these in his head, went down-stairs. He found the dining-room at last, after getting into three or four empty, unoccupied rooms, and there found Hagar putting the last dishes upon the breakfast-table.
”You's lookin' brighter, honey,” said she, gleefully. ”Didn't dis yer ole woman tell ye so? Ki! I knowed how 'tw'u'd be las' night.”
”It _does_ seem pleasanter,” Noll admitted; ”and where's Uncle Richard?”
”Mas'r d.i.c.k? He's in de libr'y; goin' to call him dis minnit.
Breakfas' dun waitin' for ye both, honey; an', bress de Lord! how much ye looks like yer father dis mornin'!” and Hagar caressed the boy's hair with her skinny old hands, muttering, as she gazed affectionately in his face, ”You's de bery picter ob him,--de bery picter!”
So Richard Trafford thought as he answered the old housekeeper's call and entered the dining-room where his nephew was waiting with a cheery ”Good-morning, Uncle Richard.” The boy's suns.h.i.+ny face, somehow, made the great room brighter, Trafford thought, and Hagar bustled about and poured the coffee with a lighter heart than she had had since leaving her people at Hastings.