for Uncle John in that long sad night, there was a new manliness
about him, as if he had already begun to feel the cares and troubles
of life, and tried to take them bravely.
“I will, for one,” and Emil went to his seat, remembering that
obedience to his superior officer is a seaman’s first duty.
The others followed; Franz took his uncle’s seat, and for an hour
order reigned. Lessons were learned and said, and Franz made a
patient, pleasant teacher, wisely omitting such lessons as he was
not equal to, and keeping order more by the unconscious dignity
that sorrow gave him than by any words of his own. The little boys
were reading when a step was heard in the hall, and every one
looked up to read the news in Mr. Bhaer’s face as he came in. The
kind face told them instantly that Demi had no father now, for it
was worn and pale, and full of tender grief, which left him no
words with which to answer Rob, as he ran to him, saying,
reproachfully,
“What made you go and leave me in the night, papa?”
The memory of the other father who had left his children in the
night, never to return, made Mr. Bhaer hold his own boy close,
and, for a minute, hide his face in Robby’s curly hair. Emil laid his
head down on his arms, Franz, went to put his hand on his uncle’s
shoulder, his boyish face pale with sympathy and sorrow, and the
others sat so still that the soft rustle of the falling leaves outside
was distinctly heard.
Rob did not clearly understand what had happened, but he hated to
see papa unhappy, so he lifted up the bent head, and said, in his
chirpy little voice,
“Don’t cry, mein Vater! we were all so good, we did our lessons,
without you, and Franz was the master.”
Mr. Bhaer looked up then, tried to smile, and said in a grateful
tone that made the lads feel like saints, “I thank you very much, my
boys. It was a beautiful way to help and comfort me. I shall not
forget it, I assure you.”
“Franz proposed it, and was a first-rate master, too,” said Nat; and
the others gave a murmur of assent most gratifying to the young
dominie.
Mr. Bhaer put Rob down, and, standing up, put his arm round his
tall nephew’s shoulder, as he said, with a look of genuine pleasure,
“This makes my hard day easier, and gives me confidence in you
all. I am needed there in town, and must leave you for some hours.
I thought to give you a holiday, or send some of you home, but if
you like to stay and go on as you have begun, I shall be glad and
proud of my good boys.”
“We’ll stay;” “We’d rather;” “Franz can see to us;” cried several,
delighted with the confidence shown in them.
“Isn’t Marmar coming home?” asked Rob, wistfully; for home
without “Marmar” was the world without the sun to him.
“We shall both come to-night; but dear Aunt Meg needs Mother
more than you do now, and I know you like to lend her for a little
while.”
“Well, I will; but Teddy’s been crying for her, and he slapped
Nursey, and was dreadful naughty,” answered Rob, as if the news
might bring mother home.
“Where is my little man?” asked Mr. Bhaer.
“Dan took him out, to keep him quiet. He’s all right now,” said
Franz, pointing to the window, through which they could see Dan
drawing baby in his little wagon, with the dogs frolicking about
him.
“I won’t see him, it would only upset him again; but tell Dan I
leave Teddy in his care. You older boys I trust to manage
yourselves for a day. Franz will direct you, and Silas is here to over
see matters. So good-by till to-night.”
“Just tell me a word about Uncle John,” said Emil, detaining Mr.
Bhaer, as he was about hurrying away again.
“He was only ill a few hours, and died as he has lived, so
cheerfully, so peacefully, that it seems a sin to mar the beauty of it