Bosom Friends: A Seaside Story Read online

  CHAPTER X.

  WILD MAIDENHAIR.

  "On our other side is the straight-up rock, And a path is kept 'twixt the gorge and it By boulder stones, where lichens mock The marks on a moth, and small ferns fit Their teeth to the polished block."

  Somewhat hot and tired with their exertions, the children dispersed insmall groups to lounge about or amuse themselves in any way theyhappened to feel inclined. As there was still plenty of time beforethe coaches returned at seven o'clock, Belle and Isobel, together withfour of the Rokebys, decided to stroll up the Scar, from the top ofwhich they expected to obtain a very good view of the distantmoorland, together with a wide stretch of sea. A narrow path ledsteeply by a series of steps through the wood, a delightful, cool,shady place, with soft moss spreading like a green carpet underfoot,and closely-interlacing boughs shutting out the sunlight overhead.Trails of late honeysuckle still hung in sweet-scented festoons fromthe undergrowth, and an occasional squirrel might be seen whisking hisbushy tail round the bole of an oak tree in a quest for early acorns.There was an interesting little pool, too, where a number of youngfrogs were practising swimming; and the children thought they saw anotter, but they could not be quite sure, for it scurried off soquickly up the bank that they had not the chance to get more than aglimpse of it. The hazel bushes were covered with nuts, a few of whichalready contained kernels, and clumps of ferns grew luxuriantly underthe shadow of the trees.

  Pleasant as it was in the wood, it was even more enjoyable when theyreached the top of the hill, and seating themselves upon a thick patchof heather, looked down the other side of the Scar over the richundulating silvan slope, where among great round boulders they caughtthe glint of a stream, and heard in the distance the rushing noise of awaterfall. At the foot of the incline, in a narrow valley between theScar and the cliffs which bounded the sea, rose the gray-brown stoneroof of a quaint old Elizabethan house. The richly-carved timbers, thewide mullioned windows, and the ornamental gables were singularly fine,and told of the time when those who built put an artistic pride intotheir work, and thought no detail too unimportant to be well carriedout. The south side was covered with a glorious purple clematis, whichhung in rich masses round the pillars of a veranda below, and even fromthe distance the flaming scarlet of the Scotch nasturtium clothing theporch arrested the eyes by its brilliant contrast with the delicatetea-roses that framed the windows.

  "What a splendid place!" cried Belle, glancing beyond the twistedchimneys to where the smooth green lawns and gay beds of a garden peepedfrom between the trees of the shrubbery. "Just look at the beautifulconservatories and greenhouses, and such stables! There's a tennis lawnon the other side of the flagstaff, and a carriage drive leading downtowards the road. It's the nicest house I've seen anywhere aboutSilversands. I wonder to whom it belongs, and what it's called."

  "It's the Chase, and belongs to Colonel Smith, I believe," said Cecil."There's a huge 'S' on the gates, at any rate, and one day when we werepassing I saw an old buffer going in with a gun, and Arthur Wright saidhe was sure it was Colonel Smith, who has all the shooting on thecommon. Lucky chap! If it were mine, wouldn't I have a glorious time!I'd keep ever so many ferrets and dogs in those stables, and gorabbiting every day in the year."

  "I'd have a very fast pony that could fly like the wind," said Winnie,"and I'd gallop all over the moors and the shore with my hair streamingout behind in ringlets like the picture of Diana Vernon on the landingat home."

  "You'd very soon fall off," remarked Bertie unsympathetically, "seeingyou can't even stick on to a donkey on the sands. The little brown onethrew you twice this morning."

  "That was because the saddle kept slipping," said Winnie indignantly."And that particular donkey has a trick of lying down suddenly, too,when it's tired. It wants to get rid of you--I know it does--because itrolls if you don't tumble off. It did the same with Charlie Chester theother day, and shot him straight over its head; then it got up and flewback to the Parade before he could catch it. The pony would be quite adifferent thing, I can tell you, and I'd soon learn to ride it. Whatwould you do, Belle, if you owned the Chase?"

  "I'd give the most wonderful parties," said Belle, "and invite all kindsof distinguished people--dukes and duchesses, you know, and members ofParliament, and admirals, and generals, and perhaps even the Prince andPrincess of Wales; and I'd send to Paris for my hats, and have myclothes made by the Court dressmaker."

  "I'd give a cricket match on that lawn," said Isobel, "and ask all theSea Urchins to tea. We'd have loads of lovely fruit from those gardensand greenhouses, and when we were tired of cricket we could get upsports, and let off fireworks in the evening just when it was growingdark. That's what I'd like to do if I lived there."

  "Pity you don't," exclaimed Bertie; "we'd all come. But what's the useof talking when you know you'll never have the chance. I say, suppose wego down the wood on this side and try to find the waterfall? It must berather a decent-sized one to make such a thundering noise."

  The others jumped up very readily at the suggestion, and leaving thepath, they slid through the steep wood, and climbing a high wall, foundthemselves at the rocky bed of a stream, which rushed swiftly alongunder the overhanging trees, forming little foaming cascades as it went.At one point the water, dashing between two steep crags, descended in asheer fall of about thirty feet, emptying itself at the bottom into awide and deep pool overhung by several fine mountain ashes, the scarletberries of which made a bright spot of colour against the silvery greenof the foliage behind. The Rokebys instantly rushed at these, and begantearing off quite large branches, breaking the boughs in a ruthlessfashion that went to Isobel's heart, for she always had been taught topick things carefully and judiciously, so as not to spoil the beauty oftree or plant.

  "It's grand stuff," said Cecil, descending to the ground with a crash,and switching at the ferns by the water's edge with his stick as hespoke. "I've got a perfect armful. Hullo! what's that all down the sideof this overhanging rock? It's actually maidenhair fern growing wild inthe open air! I'm going to have some. We'll plant it in pots, and takeit home."

  It was indeed the true maidenhair, flourishing on the damp crag underthe spray of the waterfall as luxuriantly as though it had been in aconservatory, its delicate fronds showing in large clumps wherever itcould obtain a hold on the rocky surface. I grieve to say that theRokebys simply threw themselves upon it, pulling it up by the roots, anddestroying as much as they gathered by trampling it in their frantichaste.

  "O Cecil!" cried Isobel, in an agony, "you're spoiling the ferns. Theylooked so lovely growing there by the waterfall. Please don't take themall. Haven't you got enough now?"

  "But he hasn't given _me_ any yet," protested Belle. "And I must havesome."

  "One doesn't often get the chance to find maidenhair," declared Cecil,"so I shall make the most of it, you bet.--Here, Belle, you may havethis piece. Catch! If I climb a little higher I can reach that splendidclump under the tree. I'll take that to the mater."

  "I think, on the whole, you will not, my boy," said a dry voice from thebank behind; and looking round, the children, to their horror andastonishment, saw the tall figure of an elderly gentleman who had stolenupon the scene unawares. He spoke quite calmly, but there was a twitchabout his mouth and a gleam in his gray eye which suggested the quietbefore a thunderstorm, and he stood watching the group in much the sameway as a detective might have done who had made a sudden successfulcapture of youthful burglars red-handed in the act of committing afelony.

  "May I ask," he observed, with withering politeness, "by whoseinvitation you have entered my grounds, and by whose permission you havebeen destroying my trees and uprooting my ferns? I was under theimpression that this was my private property, but you evidently consideryou are entitled not only to annex my possessions, but to exercise acheap generosity by presenting them to others. I shall be obliged if youwill kindly offer me some explanation."

  Cecil was so absolutely transfixed with amazement
that for a moment heremained with his mouth wide open, staring at the newcomer as though thelatter had dropped from the skies. The Rokebys were not well-trainedchildren; they did not possess either the moral courage or the goodmanners which Charlie Chester, madcap though he might be, wouldundoubtedly have displayed in the same situation, and instead of meetingthe matter bravely and making the best apology he could, Cecil flungdown the ferns, and without a word of excuse took to his heels and ranback up the wood at the top of his speed, closely followed by Winnie,Bertie, and Arnold.

  Belle for an instant wavered, but recognizing the old gentleman as thesame whose acquaintance she had cultivated on the beach with suchunsatisfactory results, she decided that discretion was the better partof valour, and turning away, vanished through the trees like a littlewhite shadow.

  Isobel, the only one of the six who stood her ground, was left to bearthe whole brunt of the matter alone. She looked at the broken branchesof mountain ash and the damaged ferns which the Rokebys had dropped inthe panic of their flight, and which surrounded her like so much guiltyevidence of the deed, then screwing up her courage, she faced theoutraged owner in a kind of desperation.

  "I'm _very_ sorry," she began, twisting and untwisting her thin littlehands, and colouring up to the roots of her hair with the effort she wasmaking. "We oughtn't to have come. But, indeed, we didn't know it wasyour ground; we thought it was only just part of the Scar. And I don'tbelieve the others would have taken the ferns if they'd thought for amoment, because they would have known maidenhair doesn't grow wild outof doors like bracken or hart's-tongue."

  "But it _was_ wild," said the colonel--"that's the unfortunate part ofit. It wouldn't have distressed me if I could have replaced it from theconservatory. This happens to be one of the few spots in the BritishIsles where _Adiantum Capillus-Veneris_ is found in an undoubtedlynative situation."

  "Oh, then that's worse than ever!" cried Isobel, with consternation. "Iknow how very, very rare it is, because mother and I once found alittle piece in a cave in Cornwall."

  "Did you? Are you sure it was an absolutely genuine specimen and notnaturalized?" asked Colonel Stewart, with keen interest.

  "No; it was quite wild, for it was in a very out-of-the-way place by theseashore."

  "I hope you didn't take it?"

  "Oh no! we didn't even pick a frond; and mother made me promise never totell any one where it grew, she was so afraid some one might root itup."

  "A sensible woman!" exclaimed the colonel. "Pity there aren't more likeher! Why people should want to grub up every rare and beautiful thingthey find in the country to plant in their miserable town gardens, Ican't imagine. It's downright murder. The poor things die directly inthe smoke. Look at these splendid roots that have been growing heresince I was a boy! I would rather they had destroyed every flower in mygarden than have worked such wanton havoc in the spot I value most inall my grounds."

  "It's most unfortunate we came this particular walk," said Isobel,almost crying with regret. "You see, the Rokebys aren't used to thecountry, so they don't seem to think about spoiling things. I believe Icould manage to plant these roots again; they're not very bad, and if Itucked them well into the crevices of the rock I really fancy they'dgrow."

  She picked up some of the ferns as she spoke, and began carefully toreplace them in the little ledges on the side of the rock, moisteningthe roots first in the stream, and scraping up some soil with a thinpiece of shale which she made serve the purpose of a trowel.

  "They haven't taken quite all," she said. "That beautiful clump up therehasn't even been touched, and it may spread. I wish I could put back themountain ash. I simply can't tell you how sorry I am we ever came."

  The colonel smiled.

  "I don't blame _you_," he said. "It was those young heathens who ranaway. Their methods of studying botany were certainly of a ratherrough-and-ready description. I should have thought better of them ifthey had stayed to apologize. Your friend with the light curls, whom,by-the-bye, I have met before, seemed also unwilling to enter into anyexplanations. In fact, to put it plainly, she left you in the lurch."

  "I think she was frightened," said Isobel, wondering what possibleexcuse she could frame for Belle's conduct. "You came so--so verysuddenly. There! I've put all the ferns back. They're rather broken, I'mafraid; but there are plenty of new fronds ready to come up, so I hopeyou'll find that, after all, we haven't quite spoilt everything."

  "Think I'm not so much hurt as I imagined?" said the colonel, with atwinkle in his eye.

  "Oh, I didn't mean that!" replied Isobel quickly. "I know we've done agreat deal of harm. Please don't think I wanted to make out we hadn't."

  "All right; you've done your best to repair the damage, so that's an endof the matter."

  "I ought to be going now," continued Isobel. "The Rokebys and Belle willbe wondering what has become of me, and the coaches were to start atseven o'clock. It must be after six now."

  "Exactly half-past six," said Colonel Stewart, consulting his watch. "Ifyou follow that footpath it will take you through a side gate andstraight up the hillside; I expect you will find the others waiting foryou on the top of the Scar. Good-bye. Give my compliments to yourfriends, and tell them to learn to enjoy the country without spoiling itfor other people; and the next time they get into a tight place to showa little pluck, and not to run off like a set of cowardly young curs."