Part 5 (1/2)

Then there was a noise up the path, and Tom Ellis appeared with Cecily.

”h.e.l.lo, people,” he said. ”Are we the first? I was afraid we would be, but I couldn't hold Cecily any longer.”

Cecily smiled. ”Don't take any notice of him, Eve, and he'll run down pretty soon.”

”And,” Tom went on, ”Cecily could have painted for another half hour and earned fifty dollars more. You see what a sacrifice I have made for you.”

”And your country.”

”Country comes first, doesn't it, Adam? Ought to, but I'm afraid the clams had a good deal to do with it. What do you think of my uniform?”

Tom had on the worst looking clothes that I have ever seen on a respectable man who did no work. They were soaked with a mixture of oil and grease and dirt, and spattered with mud, which covered them in great patches here and there, and one sleeve of his coat was torn nearly off. It looked as if a machinist, in his oily jumper, had rolled in wet clay. His rubber boots were those of a mixer of mortar and concrete.

”I am lost in admiration, Tom,” I said. ”The others will hardly be able to equal that.”

”No,” Tom returned proudly; and he threw down his rake. He had brought an instrument very like a potato digger, a short-handled rake with huge tines. ”The only private, you know. I thought my uniform ought to have distinction. Cleaned up Mr. Goodwin's cars for the purpose.” Old Goodwin laughed suddenly at that. ”Then I whitewashed the henhouse, with this artistic result. It's quite fun whitewas.h.i.+ng henhouses. Ever try it, Adam? Did it with a pump and hose. Whitewash on the windows is an inch thick.”

I laughed. ”I have had that pleasure in the distant past, and I don't want any more of it. But you have not accounted for the mud.”

Tom surveyed the mud and shook his head.

”Can't account for it,” he said. ”Haven't been near any mud. I can't imagine how it got there, unless Cecily borrowed the clothes. But this party, Adam, is a sort of farewell party for me. I've enlisted. I go to-morrow.”

”Go to-morrow!” I cried. ”Where? And what have you enlisted for?”

”That is somewhat ambiguous as a question, but I will answer all its meanings. I've enlisted because my country needs me. All the posters say so. That one of the old gentleman in the star-spangled hat looking right at you and pointing right at you, and saying, 'Your country needs YOU,' or words to that effect, was what got me finally. I couldn't get away from it. He was pointing at me and looking at me, wherever I went. And I've enlisted for four years, and--”

”Four years!” gasped Cecily, wide-eyed. ”You never told me that, Tom.”

”Didn't I? It must have been an oversight, Cecily. You won't mind, will you? And I've enlisted to go to Newport and drive some admiral or other around in a large gray car. Oh, it's not half bad. When the submarines begin to school off Nantucket, perhaps they'll let me go out there once in a while and get a load.”

”Tom,” said Eve, patting his arm, her eyes s.h.i.+ning again, ”I think it's splendid. I could kiss you for it.”

”Wait, Eve, until Cecily's not around,” Tom whispered; ”and perhaps Adam could be spared. Then, if you like--”

”I'm going to Newport to-morrow,” Cecily broke in decidedly. ”I'm going to live there.”

”Oh, I say!” said Tom. And Old Goodwin offered to take them both over next day in his new car, and let Tom drive. And he offered further to ferry Cecily back and forth as often as she liked, and to lend them a car if they wished.

So everybody was happy,--excepting perhaps Tom and Cecily,--and the Arcadia was just rounding to her anchorage, and we watched while the s.h.i.+ning mahogany launch put off. But, before coming in, the launch went slowly along the whole length of Old Goodwin's ocean steamer. I could see Captain Fergus looking at the work as though he were inspecting it, and once he boomed forth a question, which was answered as if he had a right to ask it, and then the launch made for the landing.

I wondered at it, but I wondered more at Eve. For Eve has pacifist leanings, as I have reason to know and as I have said before; and here she was with all the signs of approval for Tom's action, and ready to kiss him for it. It might be that Eve was entirely willing that the war should be fought vicariously, and that she would sacrifice all her friends in the cause--but not her family. That was not like Eve. I refused to believe it of her. And I turned away and was musing upon this matter when there came down the path Captain Fergus and Mrs. Fergus, and Jimmy Wales and Bobby and Ogilvie; and, some distance behind them, Elizabeth and Olivia. And that was strange, too, that those two girls should be coming by themselves when Bobby and Jack Ogilvie were just ahead; but I could not be bothering myself about all the queer things that people did--or did not do. They did not concern me. There were enough things that did concern me to bother about.

All the company were there. I drew near to Eve.

”If Alice Carbonnel were here now,” I said, ”and Harrison, we should be complete.”

”Alice!” Eve returned. ”I wish that I knew!”

Alice Carbonnel was in Belgium, the last we knew, and Harrison Rindge, her husband, was hunting for her. I hope he has found her--safe. We are very fond of Alice Carbonnel, Eve and I.

”There is somebody else to come, Adam,” said Eve. ”You would never guess. It is my mother.”

I smiled, remembering another day when I had met Eve just at that spot to take her to another clambake; a smoking dome upon a point, beneath a pine.

The point and the pine belonged to a queer fellow that I knew--knew well, I thought sometimes, and sometimes not.

And so I smiled, remembering. ”Eve,” I said, ”do governesses have mothers?”

And she smiled too, and she slipped her hand within my arm, and looked up at me with that light in her eyes that makes them pa.s.s all wonders.

”Oh, Adam,” she said, ”that was a happy day--for me. Oh, but it was hard, and I was afraid.”

”A happier day for me,” I said, pressing her arm close to my side. ”But here comes your mother.”

And Mrs. Goodwin came sailing down the path, with our little daughter skipping beside her, and she smiled as she came, which was not what she had been used to do in that time that I remembered. And our company being all a.s.sembled, and the beds being uncovered, although the tide was not yet at its lowest, I gave the order to dig. So we dug, even Mrs. Goodwin digging three clams, and she was not clad as a clammer should be clad, but she had some rubber boots, new ones and thin as gossamer, which a clamsh.e.l.l cut through. And thereafter she sat upon the bank and cheered us on, and gibed at our raiment; as if the body were not more than raiment.

We dug for an hour, and got clams enough for a regiment. All the baskets were filled to overflowing. And we stopped digging, one by one, and straightened our backs slowly, with many creaks and groans, and we drifted to the bank and in and out; and when the drifting process was over, I found myself next to Eve, with Elizabeth on the other side of her, and Ogilvie completing the circle. Bobby stood afar off, looking out over the water as if he were seeing his best friend swallowed by a submarine; and Olivia watched him from a distance.

”I notice, Jack,” Elizabeth observed, ”that Olivia has a lonesome look.”

Ogilvie turned and looked, and turned back again and smiled.

”She has, hasn't she? Bobby too.”

Elizabeth never quivered. ”Don't you want to relieve her loneliness?”

He shook his head. ”I couldn't relieve it. I told you. I'll try later--her last chance.”

Elizabeth laughed. I was picking up a bushel basket filled with clams. Clams are a heavy fruit. Ogilvie seized one handle.

”Here!” cried Elizabeth. ”I'm going to take that side. I want to help Adam. You go with Eve, Jack. She has something for you to carry.”

Ogilvie protested, and so did I, but she was firm.

”I want to go with you, Adam. You needn't think I can't carry my side, for I can.”

So we set off, Eve and Jack Ogilvie with a market basket of clams and various hoes, and Elizabeth and I carrying that bushel of clams between us. Elizabeth was strong, I found, and sure-footed; surer than I. The others came straggling after, carrying their loads.

”Elizabeth,” I began, ”what is the matter with Bobby?”

She smiled and turned to observe Bobby. ”I'm sure I don't know. He seems to be well occupied with Olivia.” Then she changed suddenly. ”That was not honest, Adam,” she said. ”I do know, but it is nothing that I can help. He will get over it in time--perhaps. I wish he would, for it is not amusing as it is.”

And she sighed softly, and then she smiled up at me. It was a brave attempt, and almost a success.

”And Ogilvie?” I asked softly.