Finding the Lost Treasure Read online

  CHAPTER III TWO CALLERS

  When Jack opened the door, Nicolas Bouchard stood frowning before him.

  "Oh, come in, Nicolas," he urged hospitably.

  "Can't; it's too late; but saw you were still up, and wanted to tell youthat I just had a message from Yves and he wants to take possession ofthis place at once. Think you could be out by this day week?"

  "How do you know we aren't going to pay off the mortgage?" flashedDesire, annoyed at the man for taking things so for granted.

  Nicolas gave a grunt. "What with? Don't get mad. We all know you haven'tgot any money. Glad to have you pay if you could, for you've always beengood neighbors; but a man's got to take care of his pennies. They're notso plentiful now as they were when I took that mortgage."

  "Certainly, Nicolas," said Jack, quietly laying a restraining hand onDesire's arm. "You may have the house a week from today."

  The man lingered rather awkwardly.

  "Felice said she'd be willing to keep the two little ones, so as you andthis girl could go to Boston, and find work--"

  Desire started to speak, but Jack's hold on her arm tightened.

  "They pay good wages there, I'm told," the man went on. "Or, if you couldfind some place for the rest, Yves said he'd be glad to have you stay onhere and help him farm."

  "We are indeed grateful for the kindness of our friends," replied Jack;"but we have decided that we must all stick together, some way."

  Nicolas turned without another word, and strode down the shell-borderedpath to the road, and Jack closed the door. In silent dismay the brotherand sister faced each other; then the girl's courage reasserted itself.

  "Never mind, dear," she cried, putting both arms around him. "We'llsurely find something. As _notre mere_ used to say so often, 'let's sleepon it.' Things always look lots brighter in the morning."

  "You're such a good little pal, Dissy. We'll say an extra prayer tonightfor help, and tomorrow we'll try to decide upon something definite."

  Late the following afternoon Desire stood on the doorstep, watchingPriscilla hopping down the dusty road to see a little friend. Early thatmorning Jack had gone to Meteghan to settle up affairs with Nicolas andYves, and, to please Desire, to price an outfit for a traveling store.The sisters, greatly hindered by Rene, had spent the day going overkeepsakes and household belongings of all kinds, trying to decide whatthey would keep and what they must dispose of.

  "Are you going to sell _all_ our things, Dissy? Even Mother's chair?"

  "I'm afraid so, dear. You see we can't carry furniture around with uswhen we don't know where or how we are going to live. You have her littlesilver locket for a keepsake, and I have her prayerbook. We really don'tneed anything to remember her by."

  "No; and Jack has _notre pere's_ watch. But, oh, I--I wish we weren'tgoing. I'm sort of afraid!"

  "Afraid!" chided Desire, although her own heart was filled with thenameless dread which often accompanies a contemplated change. "With dearold Jack to take care of us? I'm ashamed of you! We're going to have justlots of good times together. Try not to let Jack know that you mind.Remember, Prissy, it's far harder on him to be obliged to give up all hisown plans and hopes to take care of us, than it is for you and me to makesome little sacrifices and pretend we like them."

  "Ye-es," agreed Priscilla slowly, trying to measure up to what wasexpected of her.

  "What's the matter with Prissy?" demanded Rene, deserting his play andcoming to stand in front of them. "Has she got a pain?"

  "A kind of one," replied Desire gently, "but it's getting better now; sogo on with what you were doing, darling."

  The child returned to the corner of the room where he had been making awagon from spools and a pasteboard box, while Priscilla murmured, "I'lltry not to fuss about things."

  "That's a brave girl," commended her sister. "Now, you've been in allday; so suppose you run down to see Felice for a little while. Maybeyou'll meet Jack on the way home, but don't wait for him later than halfpast five."

  The little girl was almost out of sight when Desire's attention wasdiverted to the opposite direction by the sound of an automobile,apparently coming from Digby. Motor cars were still sufficiently new inNova Scotia to excuse her waiting to see it pass. Only the well-to-dopeople owned them, and she had never even had a ride in one. There wererumors that possibly that very summer a bus line would be run to thevarious interesting parts of the country for the convenience of touristsfrom the States. Then she might be able to ride a little way, if itdidn't cost too much, just to see how it felt.

  A ramshackle Ford jerked to a sudden halt right in front of the house,and a tall, thin man backed carefully out from the driver's seat andambled up the path toward her.

  "Mademoiselle Wistmore?" he inquired, bashfully removing his blue woolencap and thrusting it under his arm.

  "_Oui_, Monsieur."

  "My name's Pierre Boisdeau," he drawled, taking the cap out from underhis arm and rolling it nervously between his two big hands.

  "Yes?" replied Desire encouragingly.

  "I have a message for you," pushing the long-suffering cap into hispocket as he spoke.

  The girl seated herself upon the broad stone step, and with a gestureinvited the stranger to do the same; but he merely placed one foot uponthe scraper beside the step, and began in halting embarrassed fashion todeliver his message.

  After he had gone, Desire fairly raced through preparations for supper;then went to look up the road again. If Jack would only come! Renetrudged around from the back of the house where he had been playing, andannounced that he was hungry; so she took him in, gave him his supper,and put him to bed. Before she had finished, Priscilla returned.

  "Jack must have been delayed somewhere. We might as well eat, and I'llget his supper when he comes," decided the older girl.

  While they ate, Priscilla chattered on and on about her playmates, whileDesire said "Yes" and "No" rather absent-mindedly. Where could Jack be?

  "I'm going to bed," yawned Priscilla, about seven o'clock. "We ran somuch, I'm tired."

  "All right, dear."

  "Where are _you_ going?" inquired the child, stopping on the stairs asshe caught sight of her sister throwing a shawl around her shoulders.

  "Only out to the road to watch for Jack."

  "You won't go any farther, and leave us?"

  "Of course not. Have I ever left you alone at night?"

  "No-o-o."

  "Run along to bed then," reaching up to pat the brown hand which graspedthe stair railing.

  What was keeping Jack?

  For half an hour Desire shifted her weight from one foot to the other,watching the darkening road. As soon as she spied his tall form, she ranto meet him and fell into step at his side.

  "You must be nearly starved, dear," she began.

  "Not a bit. I happened to be at Henry Simard's at about supper time, andnothing would do but I must stay and eat with them. I hope you weren'tworried," looking down at Desire anxiously.

  "I tried not to be; for I thought perhaps you had gone farther than youintended."

  "Nicolas was ready when I got to his house, and Yves met us in Meteghan;so we fixed everything up successfully. The money which came to us I putinto the bank for emergencies; for--I'm awfully sorry to have to tellyou--there isn't enough to buy and stock up a wagon, even if we decidedto adopt that way of living. So I looked around a bit for some kind of ajob."

  "Did you find anything?" asked Desire, a bit breathlessly.

  "Not yet; but I shall. We could--"

  "Now that I've heard your news," interrupted the girl eagerly, "justlisten to mine. A man named Pierre Boisdeau came in an auto from Digbythis afternoon with a message for us. Oh, Jack, the most wonderful thing!When he took some salmon down to Yarmouth the other day, they told him atthe docks that old Simon had sent word to be sure to have anyone from upthis way go to see him. So he went, and found the poor old man allcrippled up with rheumatism. He
will have to stay at his daughter's houseall summer. So he won't be able to peddle. And Jack! He wants _us_ totake his wagon! Isn't that just glorious? He said that if we won't takeit and keep the route for him until he is well again, he'll likely haveto sell out. He doesn't want to do that. Isn't it just providential? Thiswill give us a chance to try the experiment without much expense, andwill provide for us for several months."

  "We are indeed very fortunate," replied Jack gravely. "We could hardlytake such an offer from anyone else, but Simon is such an old friend thathe would feel hurt if we refused. As you say, it will give us a chance tofind a place to settle in permanently. In the meantime, we shall beholding the route for him."

  They entered the house and dropped down beside the table, still coveredwith dishes, to finish their talk.

  "Simon wants an answer as soon as possible; for he hates to think of allhis customers being deserted for so long. You'd better write to himtonight."

  "I wonder," said Jack slowly, after a few minutes' consideration duringwhich his sister scanned his serious, thoughtful face rather anxiously."I wonder if it would be better for me to go down alone to get the wagonand pick you up on the way back; or, for all of us to ride to Yarmouth onthe train, and start the route from there. Which should you like better?"

  "To go to Yarmouth, of course; but won't it cost a lot more?"

  "Some, but--"

  "I can prepare enough food for us to carry two meals, and there must besome place where we could camp just outside of the city."

  "Anxious to get started?"

  "Yes. I hate goodbyes. I'd like to steal out right away, without anybodyknowing it."

  "I'm afraid you can't leave our good neighbors like that. They have knownus all our lives; and think how hurt they would feel."

  "I suppose so; but they all want us to do something different, andcriticize _notre pere_ for trying to educate us."

  "They don't understand, but they mean well and have been very kind tous."

  "I know, and I do appreciate it; but--couldn't we start soon?"

  "Day after tomorrow, I should think. I'm afraid one trunk and the box inthe store room will be all we can take on our travels. Shall you be ableto manage that way?"

  "I'll try to; but what shall I do with the furniture?"

  "Give it away, or leave it for Yves. We'll just have to stifle allsentimental affection for our household gods."

  "We'll have a house of our own again some day, and get new householdgods."

  * * * * * * * *

  Intense excitement prevailed in the Clare District on Wednesdayafternoon. Little groups of women and children were hurrying along thedusty road. On every doorstep a man or woman too old, or a child tooyoung, to join the procession was sitting waiting to wave farewell to thetravelers when they passed. These good people were much disturbed at thedeparture of the little Wistmore family. It was almost unheard of for anyof the Acadian families voluntarily to leave that peaceful section andwander among strangers in unfamiliar parts of the country. Occasionally,within their knowledge, an individual or two had decided to seek hisfortune elsewhere; but never before a whole family, and the Wistmores atthat! The neighbors had done their best, one and all, to dissuade thechildren from following such a course; but since their words of adviceand warning had proved of no avail, they were now on their way, bearinglittle gifts of good will, to bid the adventurers Godspeed.

  When Jack drove up with Andre Comeau who was going to take them to thestation, three miles away, the yard was filled with little groups ofneighbors; and inside the house still others were saying their reluctantfarewells. Shaking the hands held out to him on every side, Jack gentlypushed through the crowd; and, with Andre's help, loaded their one trunkand box onto the wagon. Then he detached Desire and the children from theweeping women, and helped them up to the seats which had been made ofrough planks laid across the wagon box. The crowd drew back, and amid achorus of "_Bon jour!_" "_Au revoir!_" the travelers started on theirjourney.

  Desire and Priscilla, with tears rolling down their faces, waved as longas they could see their old friends, and answered salutations from many adoorstep; but Jack, with set face, did not look back at all. Even Renewas unusually quiet, hardly knowing what to make of it all. The trainpulled into the tiny station just as they reached the platform, and therewas no time to be lost. Before the children, to whom a railroad was anovelty, had time hardly to glance at the long train, its freight carsplaced ahead of the coaches, as is common in Nova Scotia, they werehustled on board, the bell rang, and they were off.