CHAPTER IV. THE ABSENCE OF THE TRUANT DRAGON.
The cottage of the Bristols had been framed in Burlington, and brought down to Sandy Point on a schooner. As it stood, it was estimated to be worth about three hundred and fifty dollars, which was the cost of it to the poor woman when she invested her all in what was to be a home for the family.
It was a small sum the cottage cost, but to the poor woman it was as big as a million to a millionnaire. She had been well brought up in her father's house, and she could not exist like a Chinaman or a Hottentot, and it had cost the family a struggle to live during the absence of the father.
Now all that she had was to be taken from her. As they had paid no ground rent for the site, the law could do nothing for her. She was a tenant on suffrance rather than a tenant at will, and had no rights whatever. The magnate could tumble the cottage into the lake, and the wind would carry it where it listed. It would probably be broken up on the rocks or shoals, and the major might as well set it on fire as turn it adrift on the lake.
The rich man intended to execute his mandate in the cruelest manner possible. The students were to have a frolic in tumbling it into the lake. The humble structure contained all their household goods, all the little articles they valued far beyond the money they cost. It was hardly possible to remove them in the time allowed for the purpose, for everything would have to be carried by hand or transported in the flatboat.
No team could be driven down to the point, for the major would not allow a tree to be felled to make a road, and the owner had been compelled to leave his saddle-horse at a considerable distance from the lake when he visited it. Of course, the cruel magnate understood all this, and realized that his final mandate doomed the cottage and all it contained to certain destruction, for neither he nor his persecuted tenants could see any means of relief.
Even if they could carry away their goods, they had no place to put them. The brief period of probation given them was not more than enough to enable the poor woman to find another tenement. It was two miles to Westport, and five to Genverres, by water. The situation looked entirely hopeless to Mrs. Bristol; and the more she thought of it, the more bitterly she wept.
"I don't know what will become of us," said she when she had vented her grief for a time.
"Don't cry, mother: we shall get out of the scrape in some way," replied Paul in as soothing tones as he could command, for the situation was hardly more hopeful to him than to his mother.
"I don't see that we can do anything but submit to the loss of everything we have," moaned Mrs. Bristol. "We can't stay here any longer, and we have no place to go to in the wide world. The students will take a wicked delight in breaking up everything we have. I cannot stay here to see them revel in the destruction of our home, which has been as dear to me as though it had been a palace. But where can I go?"
"We had better go to Westport, mother," said Lily, wiping the tears from her eyes. "We can take a few things with us in the boat."
"The boat went adrift in the row, and I saw it halfway over to Scotch Bonnet," interposed Paul as he strained his eyes to discover the truant craft.
"Then we can walk over to Westport; but we can't carry much of anything in our hands in a walk of two miles," added Lily gloomily.
"Where shall we go in Westport when we get there?" asked Mrs. Bristol. "We can't go to a hotel or boarding-house, for we haven't money enough to pay our way for three days."
"I don't see that we can do a thing, mother," said Paul when he had carefully looked over the situation. "I would borrow a boat, if there was one to be had; but I am sure the institute boatman would not lend me one now. Major Billcord's story will be all over the neighborhood in a few hours. I could get one in Westport; but it might take me a whole day to find our flatboat, for it must have been driven ashore on the other side of the lake. Some vessel may have picked it up, for I saw two or three going up the lake."
"I saw a sailboat go by while you were talking to the major," said Lily.
"I noticed her; it was one of the Beech Hill boats," added Paul. "One of these vessels may have picked up the 'Dragon,'" as he had named the flatboat, "and it may be five miles from here by this time."
"We are in the hands of Providence, and as helpless as babies," continued Mrs. Bristol. "I don't see that we can do a single thing for ourselves, and we must trust in a higher power than man."
"We can stay in the cottage over night, at least, and it will be our last in our happy home," said Paul. "The students will all be at their studies in the forenoon, and then you and Lily can walk over to Westport."
"What are you going to do, Paul?" inquired his mother, bestowing a look of the deepest interest upon him.
"I shall stay here and save what I can."
"You must not stay here!" protested his mother warmly. "The students will kill you, under the lead of Walker Billcord."
"I am not afraid of them."
"You must not stay here: if you do, I shall stay with you," replied the devoted mother.
"There is that sailboat, Paul," said Lily, who had been gazing blankly out upon the lake. "She looks as though she was headed for the point."
"That's the 'Goldwing,'" added Paul. "I hope Dory Dornwood is on board of her. He is a good fellow, and he may do something to help us. If she comes near enough, I will hail her."
"But Dory Dornwood will not do anything for any one on this side of the lake," replied Mrs. Bristol. "The two schools have waged the fiercest war upon each other."
"I know Dory Dornwood very well, mother. I had a long talk with him about the war between the schools, and I know that the Beech-Hillers have done all they could to keep out of trouble with the Chesterfields. I am sure he will do anything he can for us. He don't like Major Billcord any better than I do at this moment, for he had a row with him when he was a waiter on a steamer."
"I don't see that he can do anything for us, even if he does come near enough for you to hail him," added Mrs. Bristol, hardly less despondent than before.
"He can take some of our things on board his boat, and carry them to a place where they will be safe until we want them again."
Paul was quite hopeful that something would come of the visit of the "Goldwing" to the point, if she came there. Without stopping to argue the possibilities with his mother, he hastened to the shore. The "Goldwing" was headed down the lake, and, with all sail set, she was dashing over the waves at a tremendous high speed. She was towing a small boat astern of her, but Paul could not tell whether it was the "Dragon" or her usual tender.
The wind was exactly west, and the schooner was going free. When Paul saw her before, she was on the easterly side of the lake, where she got a better breeze than on the opposite side. He was satisfied that she headed for the vicinity of the point; for she would have started her sheets when she came up with Scotch Bonnet, if she had been bound directly down the lake.
Though she was approaching the point, it was by no means certain that she intended to make a landing there. The boat she was towing was astern of her, and Paul could not see it plainly, as the hull of the yacht obstructed his view. As on all occasions, he determined to do the best he could. Running back to the house, he borrowed a tablecloth of reddish hue, and fastened it to the oar. Elevating it as a signal to the "Goldwing," he held it in position at the very apex of the point.
Lily and her mother were not inclined to join him, for they did not feel in the mood to meet any young men, however civil they might be. They remained seated on the steps of the cottage; but they watched the sails of the yacht with as deep an interest as Paul did, for it was at least possible that the party on board of her might help them in their present dire emergency.
"She is headed for the point!" shouted Paul, when he had satisfied himself of the fact.
"I pray that a kind Providence has sent her to our relief," replied Mrs. Bristol.
Paul watched her with the most intense interest. When the "Goldwing" was within a quarter of a mile of the point, the party on board of her waved their handkerchiefs as a reply to Paul's signal. The hopes of the watcher on the shore ran high, but he could not yet see whether or not she had the "Dragon" in tow.
Sandy Point was a kind of double cape. It was shaped like a letter T. The cottage was on the northeast point, inside of which was Sandy Bay, where the Beech Hill students sometimes came to bathe. The other arm of the point extended to the southwest, and inside of it was the station of the boats belonging to the institute.
"Is that you, Paul Bristol?" shouted some one on board of the "Goldwing."
"Yes! Is Dory Dornwood on board?" replied Paul.
"He is! Have you lost a flatboat?" called the speaker from the yacht.
"I have!"
The schooner kept well off the point, and appeared now to be headed for the shore on the opposite side of Sandy Point. As she came abreast of the shore, Paul saw that she had the "Dragon" and her tender in tow. The return of the "Dragon" was a godsend, even if nothing else resulted from the visit of the yacht. The "Goldwing" ran over towards the opposite shore, and then tacked. The wind was light inside of the bay, and the schooner circled gracefully about, coming up into the wind off the point where Paul stood. Down went her jib in the twinkling of an eye, and over went her anchor. In a moment she had come up to her cable, with her mainsail fluttering in the breeze.
One of the party hauled up the "Dragon," and, casting off the painter, sculled her ashore with the single oar that remained on board of her.
"This is your boat, I suppose," said Tucker Prince, one of the new students of the Beech Hill Industrial School, as he stepped on shore with the painter in his hand.
"It is my boat, and I owe you a thousand thanks for bringing her back to me," replied Paul.
"The skipper wants to know if any accident has happened by which she was turned adrift," continued Tuck Prince, whom the New-Yorkers called a "Bosting boy."
"No accident; but who is the skipper?"
"Dory Dornwood."
"I would give more to see him than I would to meet my grandmother," added Paul.
In a few moments more Paul Bristol had Dory by the hand.