CHAPTER XXVI
HARD TO MEND
THE day seemed curiously empty.
"Even when Fogger's busy writing, or something," said Garth, disconsolately, "you know he's there."
"We felt very much the same," Elspeth said, "when Garth went to town with you, Joan. This is a selfish family. It can never bear to have one of its members away for very long."
"What will you do when he is in the Navy and is away all the time?" Joan asked.
"I'm trying not to think about that very much," Elspeth said.
They had not even enough ambition to go swimming.
"I can't, anyway," Garth said, "unless Fogger's there. I'll watch you."
But Joan and Elspeth decided that it was not worth while, and the hours slipped on uneventfully. While Joan read aloud to Elspeth in the afternoon, Garth fished off the pier, but he caught nothing, except a very small chogset. It was nearly time for his supper, and they had all gone indoors, when they heard a blithe voice carolling up from the landing.
The Ruler of the Queen's Na-vee!
Jim appeared at the kitchen door.
"Are you?" they all cried at once. "Tell us! Quickly!"
Elspeth put her hands on his sleeve.
"You got it?" she said.
"It's quite extraordinary," Jim said. "Yes, I got it. They said that I was absolutely fit physically; then we had a sort of impromptu technical examination. Of course nothing is signed and sealed, but as far as I can gather, if I duly pass the real exams for my stripe, it means a little while at school, then on a ship, and then, some fine day, Lieutenant J. H. Pemberley, learning to command a little destroyer and in line for promotion."
Garth gave a wild shout of joy and climbed into his father's arms, while Joan shook Jim's hand and Elspeth patted his shoulder.
"I knew you would," she said. "Oh, Jim!"
"Then you'll be a sea-captain, Fogger!" said Garth.
"A sort of sea-captain, yes," Jim said; "but not exactly the kind you mean."
"Won't it be fun," Garth said. "When you're on the destroyer and you come in, Mudder and I will signal to you,—and Joan will, too,—semaphore and wig-wag and everything. And you can answer us! Oh, think of our own destroyer talking to us!"
"It would be fun, wouldn't it!" said Jim. "But unfortunately you and Mudder won't be at the Light any more then; so we can't do it."
"Not—be at the Light?" faltered Garth. "What—do you mean?" His eyes were imploring; all the joyousness had gone from them.
"You didn't think, did you, Pem, that you and Mudder could stay here alone?" Jim said. "You couldn't, you know. But I sha'n't be called until the autumn. Then Cap'n 'Bijah will keep the Light, and you and Mudder will go to live in—in town, perhaps with Uncle Brob. Ah, Pem, don't! Why, you poor old chap!"
Garth clung to him desperately, struggling to keep back the tears that finally overwhelmed him. He wept, broken-hearted, his face buried on his father's shoulder. Elspeth kissed the back of his neck, which was the only place she could reach.
"Let's go up into my room," said Jim, "and talk a bit."
He reached out for his hat as he passed the table, then went on up the stairs.
"That will be hard to mend," said Elspeth. "Poor dear person! I believe he'd never thought of such a possibility."
Late sunshine filled the quiet room above with golden light. Mellow bands spread an amber patch across the smooth old floor, slightly uneven beneath the round braid rugs, and a warm reflection touched the low white ceiling. The windows under the eaves looked to a wide, tranquil vista of shimmering bay and misty shore; the white curtains scarcely stirred in the faint land breeze. Jim sat down in the big armchair beside his desk, on which lay many scattered papers, gilded by the streaming sunlight. He held Garth, who kept his face hidden upon the comforting shoulder. Jim rubbed his cheek now and then against Garth's hair, but did not speak. And so they sat there for a long time, while the water clucked below at the foot of the tower and the sunshine crept slowly up the wall.
"Far—away from—the sea?" Garth quavered at last.
"Not very near, I'm afraid," said Jim. "Nothing would be just like this, you know."
"I can't," sobbed Garth. "I can't go—away from—the sea."
"Sometimes people have to do things when they think they can't," said Jim.
"But I'd d-die. I couldn't ever like any other place, not if I lived to be a hundred and f-fifty."
"Listen, dear old man," Jim said; "you want to be a sea-captain, and you can't be. But you can help me to be one. If you and Mudder stayed here, I couldn't go and help to beat the Germans. We'll have to go away from our Light, and I love it as much as you do, Pem. You'll have to go to town, far away from the sea and ships; you'll have to bear a lot of things that will be pretty stiff, and you must cheer Mudder up, too. And you'll be doing your bit and helping me while I'm doing mine. I'll be on the bridge of a destroyer, and your quarterdeck will be a room in town, but you'll be just as much on duty there as though you were standing beside me, and I expect you to do your duty."
"You—won't be there," whispered Garth.
"Do you think it's very easy for me to leave you and Mudder?" said Jim. "I shall be doing what I've wanted for a long time to do, but there'll not be an hour when I'm not thinking about you and wanting you. You've never been away from me for more than a day, Pem. Do you suppose that just because I'm helping to command a ship, I sha'n't miss you? We'll both have to try, I think."
"I will try, Fogger," said Garth. "But oh, not having the sea—and our Light—and the ships—and—you! Oh, Fogger!"
"Steady!" said Jim, "steady! Town's not all horror, you know. It's full of splendid things that you must see and know, and you'll love them, too, after a bit. Music, real music that you've never heard, Pem, and pictures, and books, and school. People and things from the four ends of the earth, such as you've never dreamed of. And remember, too, that there are other things just as fine as being a sea-captain, and that take just as much grit. Are you going to show me that you have it? Are you going to prove that you have the stuff in you worthy of a great captain, even though you can't be one?"
"Yes!" said Garth, sitting up.
Jim shook hands with him.
"Thank you," he said.
Garth twisted a button of his father's coat and tucked his head down.
"Fogger," he said, "I want to ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Why does everybody in town look at me, everybody? Is it because I can't walk right?"
"Partly, perhaps," said Jim, "and partly because you always look as though you were enjoying things a good deal. They don't often see people who look like that. Let 'em look, say I! When I'm out on the high seas I shall envy all those people very much, having a chance to look at you."
Garth laughed shakily.
"I'm afraid I messed your collar up awfully," he said.
"It doesn't matter," said Jim. "It needed a little salt water, like the rest of my clothes. I shall take it off in a minute, anyhow, and get into my other things. And suppose you wash your face."
"I can't," said Garth. "The crutches are left downstairs."
"I never knew that was what you washed your face with!" said Jim. "Ha, then, you're my prisoner!"
He flung himself back in the chair, holding Garth in a great bear-hug.
"How can you possibly get away? And how can I ever, ever let you go!"
Elspeth, coming to the foot of the stairs to call Garth to his supper, heard them laughing together.