Chapter 6 Anne of Ingleside by Lucy Montgomery
"Why in the world is the house lighted up like that?" exclaimed Anne, when she and Gilbert turned in at the gate at eleven o'clock. "Company must have come."
But there was no company visible when Anne hurried into the house. Nor was anyone else visible. There was a light in the kitchen . . . in the living-room . . . in the library . . . in the dining-room . . . in Susan's room and the upstairs hall . . . but no sign of an occupant.
"What do you suppose," began Anne . . . but she was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Gilbert answered . . . listened for a moment, . . . uttered an ejaculation of horror . . . and tore out without even a glance at Anne. Evidently something dreadful had happened and there was no time to be wasted in explanations.
Anne was used to this . . . as the wife of a man who waits on life and death must be. With a philosophical shrug she removed her hat and coat. She felt a trifle annoyed with Susan, who really shouldn't have gone out and left all the lights blazing and all the doors wide open.
"Mrs. . . . Dr. . . . dear," said a voice that could not possibly be Susan's . . . but was.
Anne stared at Susan. Such as Susan . . . hatless . . . her grey hair full of bits of hay . . . her print dress shockingly stained and discoloured. And her face!
"Susan! What has happened? Susan!"
"Little Jem has disappeared."
"Disappeared!" Anne stared stupidly. "What do you mean? He can't have disappeared!"
"He has," gasped Susan, wringing her hands. "He was on the side steps when I went to the Glen. I was back before dark . . . and he was not there. At first . . . I was not scared . . . but I could not find him anywhere. I have searched every room in the house . . . he said he was going to run away . . ."
"Nonsense! He wouldn't do that, Susan. You have worked yourself up unnecessarily. He must be somewhere about . . . he has fallen asleep . . . he must be somewhere around."
"I have looked everywhere . . . everywhere. I have combed the grounds and the outhouses. Look at my dress . . . I remembered he always said it would be such fun to sleep in the hay-loft. So I went there . . . and fell through that hole in the corner into one of the mangers in the stable . . . and lit on a nest of eggs. It is a mercy I did not break a leg . . . if anything can be a mercy when Little Jem is lost."
Annie still refused to feel perturbed.
"Do you think he could have gone to the Harbour Mouth with the boys, after all, Susan? He has never disobeyed a command before, but . . ."
"No, he did not, Mrs. Dr. dear . . . the blessed lamb did not disobey. I rushed down to Drews' after I had searched everywhere and Bertie Shakespeare had just got home. He said Jem had not gone with them. The pit seemed to drop out of my stomach. You had trusted him to me and . . . I phoned Paxtons' and they said you had been there and gone they did not know where."
"We drove to Lowbridge to call on the Parkers. . . ."
"I phoned everywhere I thought you could be. Then I went back to the village . . . the men have started out to search . . ."
"Oh, Susan, was that necessary?"
"Mrs. Dr. dear, I had looked everywhere . . . everywhere that child could be. Oh, what I have gone through this night! And he said he was going to jump into the pond. . . ."
In spite of herself a queer little shiver ran over Anne. Of course Jem wouldn't jump into the pond . . . that was nonsense . . . but there was an old dory on it which Carter Flagg used for trouting and Jem might, in his defiant mood of the earlier evening, have tried to row about the pond in it . . . he had often wanted to . . . he might even have fallen into the pond trying to untie the dory. All at once her fear took terrible shape.
"And I haven't the slightest idea where Gilbert has gone," she thought wildly.
"What's all this fuss about?" demanded Aunt Mary Maria, suddenly appearing on the stairs, her head surrounded by a halo of crimpers and her body encased in a dragon-embroidered dressing-gown. "Can't a body ever get a quiet night's sleep in this house?"
"Little Jem has disappeared," said Susan again, too much in the grip of terror to resent Miss Blythe's tone. "His mother trusted me . . ."
Anne had gone to search the house for herself. Jem must be somewhere! He was not in his room . . . the bed was undisturbed. . . . He was not in the twins' room . . . in hers. . . . He was . . . he was nowhere in the house. Anne, after a pilgrimage from garret to cellar, returned to the living-room in a condition that was suddenly akin to panic.
"I don't want to make you nervous, Annie," said Aunt Mary Marie, lowering her voice creepily, "but have you looked in the rainwater hogshead? Little Jack MacGregor was drowned in a rainwater hogshead in town last year."
"I . . . I looked there," said Susan, with another wring of her hands. "I . . . I took a stick . . . and poked . . ."
Anne's heart, which had stood still at Aunt Mary Maria's question, resumed operations. Susan gathered herself together and stopped wringing her hands. She had remembered too late that Mrs. Dr. dear should not be upset.
"Let us calm down and pull together," she said in a trembling voice. "As you say, Mrs. Dr. dear, he must be somewhere about. He cannot have dissolved into thin air."
"Have you looked in the coal-bin? And the clock?" asked Aunt Mary Maria.
Susan had looked in the coal-bin but nobody had thought of the clock. It was quite big enough for a small boy to hide in. Anne, not considering the absurdity of supposing that Jem would crouch there for four hours, rushed to it. But Jem was not in the clock.
"I had a feeling something was going to happen when I went to bed tonight," said Aunt Mary Maria, pressing both hands to her temples. "When I read my nightly chapter in the Bible the words, 'Ye know not what a day may bring forth,' seemed to stand out from the page as it were. It was a sign. You'd better nerve yourself to bear the worst, Annie. He may have wandered into the marsh. It's a pity we haven't a few bloodhounds."
With a dreadful effort Anne managed a laugh.
"I'm afraid there aren't any on the Island, Aunty. If we had Gilbert's old setter Rex, who got poisoned, he would soon find Jem. I feel sure we are all alarming ourselves for nothing . . ."
"Tommy Spencer in Carmody disappeared mysteriously forty years ago and was never found . . . or was he? Well, if he was, it was only his skeleton. This is no laughing matter, Annie. I don't know how you can take it so calmly."
The telephone rang. Anne and Susan looked at each other.
"I can't . . . I can't go to the phone, Susan," said Anne in a whisper.
"I cannot either," said Susan flatly. She was to hate herself all her days for showing such weakness before Mary Maria Blythe, but she could not help it. Two hours of terrified searching and distorted imaginations had made Susan a wreck.
Aunt Mary Maria stalked to the telephone and took down the receiver, her crimpers making a horned silhouette on the wall which, Susan reflected, in spite of her anguish, looked like the old Nick himself.
"Carter Flagg says they have searched everywhere but found no sign of him yet," reported Aunt Mary Maria coolly. "But he says the dory is out in the middle of the pond with no one in it as far as they can ascertain. They are going to drag the pond."
Susan caught Anne just in time.
"No . . . no . . . I'm not going to faint, Susan," said Anne through white lips. "Help me to a chair . . . thanks. We must find Gilbert . . ."
"If James is drowned, Annie, you must remind yourself that he has been spared a lot of trouble in this wretched world," said Aunt Mary Marie by way of administering further consolation.
"I'm going to get the lantern and search the grounds again," said Anne, as soon as she could stand up. "Yes, I know you did, Susan . . . but let me . . . let me. I cannot sit still and wait."
"You must put on a sweater then, Mrs. Dr. dear. There is a heavy dew and the air is damp. I will get your red one . . . it is hanging on a chair in the boys' room. Wait you here till I bring it."
Susan hurried upstairs. A few moments later something that could only be described as a shriek echoed through Ingleside. Anne and Aunt Mary Maria rushed upstairs, where they found Susan laughing and crying in the hall, nearer to hysterics than Susan Baker had ever been in her life or ever would be again.
"Mrs. Dr. dear . . . he's there! Little Jem is there . . . asleep on the window-seat behind the door. I never looked there . . . the door hid it . . . and when he wasn't in his bed . . ."
Anne, weak with relief and joy, got herself into the room and dropped on her knees by the window-seat. In a little while she and Susan would be laughing over their own foolishness, but now there could be only tears of thankfulness. Little Jem was sound asleep on the window-seat, with an afghan pulled over him, his battered Teddy Bear in his little sunburned hands, and a forgiving Shrimp stretched across his legs. His red curls fell over the cushion. He seemed to be having a pleasant dream and Anne did not mean to waken him. But suddenly he opened his eyes that were like hazel stars and looked at her.
"Jem, darling, why aren't you in your bed? We've . . . we've been a little alarmed . . . we couldn't find you . . . and we never thought of looking here . . ."
"I wanted to lie here 'cause I could see you and Daddy drive in at the gate when you got home. It was so lonesome I just had to go to bed."
Mother was lifting him in her arms . . . carrying him to his own bed. It was so nice to be kissed . . . to feel her tucking the sheets about him with those caressing little pats that gave him such a sense of being loved. Who cared about seeing an old snake tattooed, anyhow? Mother was so nice . . . the nicest mother anybody ever had. Everybody in the Glen called Bertie Shakespeare's mother "Mrs. Second Skimmings" because she was so mean, and he knew . . . for he'd seen it . . . that she slapped Bertie's face for every little thing.
"Mummy," he said sleepily, "of course I'll bring you mayflowers next spring . . . every spring. You can depend on me."
"Of course I can, darling," said Mother.
"Well, since everyone is over their fit of the fidgets, I suppose we can draw a peaceful breath and go back to our beds," said Aunt Mary Maria. But there was some shrewish relief in her tone.
"It was very silly of me not to remember the window-seat," said Anne. "The joke is on us and the doctor will not let us forget it, you may be certain. Susan, please phone Mr. Flagg that we've found Jem."
"And a nice laugh he will have on me," said Susan happily. "Not that I care . . . he can laugh all he likes since Little Jem is safe."
"I could do with a cup of tea," sighed Aunt Mary Maria plaintively, gathering her dragons about her spare form.
"I will get it in a jiffy," said Susan briskly. "We will all feel the sprightlier for one. Mrs. Dr. dear, when Carter Flagg heard Little Jem was safe he said, 'Thank God.' I shall never say a word against that man again, no matter what his prices are. And don't you think we might have a chicken dinner tomorrow, Mrs. Dr. dear? Just by way of a little celebration, so to speak. And Little Jem shall have his favourite muffins for breakfast."
There was another telephone call . . . this time from Gilbert to say that he was taking a badly burned baby from the Harbour Head to the hospital in town and not to look for him till morning.
Anne bent from her window for a thankful goodnight look at the world before going to bed. A cool wind was blowing in from the sea. A sort of moonlit rapture was running through the trees in the Hollow. Anne could even laugh . . . with a quiver behind the laughter . . . over their panic of an hour ago and Aunt Mary Maria's absurd suggestions and ghoulish memories. Her child was safe . . . Gilbert was somewhere battling to save another child's life. . . . Dear God, help him and help the mother . . . help all mothers everywhere. We need so much help, with the little sensitive, loving hearts and minds that look to us for guidance and love and understanding.
The friendly enfolding night took possession of Ingleside, and everybody, even Susan . . . who rather felt that she would like to crawl into some nice quiet hole and pull it in after her . . . fell on sleep under its sheltering roof.