Substitute Guest (7 page)

Then the talk dropped to the immediate needs of the hour.

“Son,” said Father Devereaux, “I’ve got some equipment for you. Here’s a rope and you are to put one end around your waist and the other around this friend’s waist, and you are not to lose each other. Mind! Your lives may depend upon that. I don’t want to frighten you, but it is good to take precautions. We don’t want either of you lost in the snow.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lance between swallows of coffee, “that’s a good idea! We’ll do it.”

“And here’s another coil of rope,” went on the father. “When you come down the mountain it will be dark. You can sling this around a tree, and each take an end, and go down to the length of your tether, and there pull one end loose and sling it around another tree. In that way you will be able to keep your bearings better, and get back if you get off the trail. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir. You know we used to do that when we were kids out camping, Dad. If it’s only clothesline it’s very light. I’ll sling it over my shoulder. And I’ve four flashlights and some extra batteries. We’ll be all right.”

“Yes, and now just one more thing. Here are these two little candle-lanterns that you and Daryl used to have when you were children. Mother’s fixed them up with candles, and a string on each handle. When you are on your way up and come to the narrowest place by the cliff there, we want you to tie these lanterns to the trees on the side farthest from the cliff, then light the candles and close the lantern shades so the wind can’t blow them out. They’ll probably burn till you get back to them. The candles are good and thick. Now, is that giving you too much to carry, son?”

“No, Dad, and we’re packing a couple of the light snow shovels, at least for a ways. We might need them at the turn of the road before we start up. We may have to abandon them, but we’ll fling them where we can find them when the snow melts off. We’ll carry them as far as we comfortably can.”

“Good idea, but you mustn’t climb with too heavy a load. You’ll find it heavy walking. Now go, and God be with you!”

The benediction seemed to Alan to be a tangible thing that hovered over them as they went out into the thick white gloom of the fast-approaching evening. Alan looked back as they turned into the road and caught a glimpse of branches, and the girl’s white face pressed against the window pane, stark and white and suffering.

Then he turned sharply into the road and followed the steps of his guide. The rope they had tied around their waists was a light thing in itself, but a comfort even as they started, plodding knee-deep in the heavy snow, each step an achievement. It was going to be no easy expedition, he saw, and a strange startling possibility suddenly presented itself to him there in the still whiteness. He might never come back alive!

At the turn of the road he looked back once more. He could barely see the glint of the lights from the tree now, for it was not dark enough for them to carry far, and the visibility was poor. But he gazed as long as he could, for it seemed he was leaving a house where God presided. And yet, God had come along with them, out into the storm. His storm, His snow, His cold, the old man had said.

He could not see the face of the girl now, but it was there; he knew it was there watching them out into the white peril, and there were tears, perhaps, upon her face. But she was strong and brave. He could see that. They were all strong and brave. It was their nearness to God that made them so. It was this that sent their son out to accept the challenge for this errand.

Now he could no longer see the house, the whiteness was too dense, and the snow stung his eyes so that he could scarcely keep them open, even bundled as he was, and so he turned almost blindly to plod on into the storm. He had staked his life, and the hour was moving on toward six. Would they make it in time? Would they ever come back alive, or would there be three lives lost instead of one?

R
uth Latimer had been too busy all day to look out at the snow. She had come from her boardinghouse to the church during the early stages of the storm, and being shut within stained-glass windows she had no realization of what a few apparently idle flakes of snow could do in a few brief hours.

Ruth was the daughter of a Christian missionary, who, with his wife, had died during their early ministry when Ruth was a tiny child, and she had been sent home to her grandmother. But now the grandmother was gone also, and Ruth was practically alone in the world, with only a very small income. She had come to Collamer in the fall to teach in the public kindergarten, had become acquainted with the Devereauxs through attending the same church, and the three young people had seen quite a little of one another. It had been a great joy to Ruth to be invited to spend this first lonely Christmas since her grandmother’s death in a real home instead of a boardinghouse, and she cherished every minute of the anticipated visit. So it had been a disappointment to discover that the ladies of the church had arranged to give the little children’s classes in the Sunday school their Christmas treat on the day before Christmas, and of course they expected the teacher to be present, and to help in the preparations. For Ruth was not only teaching the kindergarten in day school, but also had charge of the youngsters in the beginners’ department of the Sunday school. So instead of going to the Devereaux house early on the day before Christmas as she would have liked to do, and as they had asked her to do, she had to go over to the church to help prepare for the children who were scheduled to appear at half past two for a couple of hours of undiluted happiness.

Ruth had packed a small suitcase and taken it with her, taking the precaution to ask her landlady for a couple of sandwiches so that she would not have to stop and run back for her lunch, as the boardinghouse was at some distance from the church. Lance had said his car would be brought over for her to drive straight to his house from the church, so that she would have to waste no more time than was necessary.

But when she arrived at the church, fearing she was a little late, she found that none of the other ladies and no other teachers were there. The janitor had just come, and the church wasn’t very warm yet. She had to keep her coat on while she worked.

She had brought several games and a lot of material for a good time, and for the first half hour she busied herself arranging that. Then on the long blackboard that ran the length of the room, she drew a picture of Bethlehem to use with a story she was going to tell the children. She made it much more elaborate than she had intended, sketching in a hint of glory in the sky, and angels hovering above awed shepherds and sleeping sheep. She lingered over the picture to make it realistic because there seemed nothing else to do until the women came who had planned this party and had merely asked her to assist.

But the morning went on and no women came. Presently the telephone rang and Mrs. Bartlett, who was supposed to be at the head of the affair, told the janitor to tell whoever was there to go right ahead without her. She had been delayed and couldn’t tell how long it would be before she could get there. She didn’t wait to talk with Ruth. When the janitor told her Miss Latimer was there, she said with a relieved sigh, “Oh, well then, everything will be all right. Tell her to just go ahead and do whatever she thinks best. I’ll be there soon as I can!” and hung up.

Ruth listened to this message from the janitor with dismay. Just what had they intended to do? She couldn’t carry out plans that she had never heard discussed.

She rushed to the telephone and called Mrs. Bartlett, but found she had left for the train to the city. She had gone to shop for a few forgotten Christmas things.

Ruth’s heart sank. She called up another woman, but got no answer. Probably she, too, was shopping. She tried two of the teachers and one was away for over Christmas, and declared they were sending down their contributions of cake and candy according to promise, and that the ice cream would be sure to be there, for Mrs. Bartlett always ordered it.

So Ruth went back to the big empty room where the party was to be held and looked around her speculatively. It was going to be up to her, was it? Very well, she would do what she pleased.

She enlisted the janitor and rearranged the little tables and chairs, so the main part of the room would be empty for games, marshaling the tables in a circle with the little chairs behind them for the refreshments.

Then the cakes began to arrive, and there were dishes to get out, and spoons, and lovely Christmas paper napkins that one of the delinquents thoughtfully sent. It really was rather interesting to have all this provision and do just as she pleased with everything. She wished that she dared telephone for Daryl to come and help, but she knew Daryl was expecting another guest and would be needed at home getting ready for the next two days. Besides, how would Daryl get there? The car was in Collamer at the garage, and Lance had gone into the woods for the Christmas tree. So she worked away alone, folding napkins, placing little games, balls and simple puzzles, ring toss, balloons to be blown back and forth from opposite lines. It was going to be fun, only how could she do it alone? Perhaps when Mrs. Bartlett came she would think of some other girls who would come to help.

But time went on and Mrs. Bartlett didn’t come. Presently Mrs. Bartlett’s chauffeur arrived with two enormous cakes and a lot of cookies and a large clothes basket full of toys wrapped in bright paper. There was also a message that the lady herself had been delayed in the city and would not get out until late in the afternoon, and that Miss Lattimer
and her helpers
were just to carry on!

Ruth laughed aloud when she got that message and didn’t even stop to eat her sandwich, she had so much to do.

The ice cream arrived, though she hadn’t had time to miss it yet. The men who brought the things came in with snow on their shoulders and hats, and snow on the packages they brought, and they said it was a bad day, but Ruth scarcely heard what they said.

And then at last everything was ready and the kiddies began to arrive, muffled to their eyes, and so heavily garbed they had to be undone like bundles.

“I didn’t think I ought to bring Jimmy out in this weather,” explained one troubled mother, stamping the snow from her galoshes and unwrapping Jimmy from an enveloping blanket. “He’s got an awful cold, and I don’t suppose this weather’ll do him a bit of good, but he cried something awful to come to the Christmas party! So his pa said fix him up and he’d bring us down!” She undid the boy, and he stood in all the glory of a new red suit, his mother eyeing him proudly.

That was the first intimation that Ruth had of how bad the storm was, and she went to the outer door and looked out aghast. How could the children get there! No wonder Jimmy’s mother had been dubious about bringing him! Probably Jimmy would be the only child that would come; that would make it harder for her than if she had to entertain a lot of children.

But it was surprising how many came! Those kiddies were not to be cheated out of their Christmas party, not they. Most of them had bullied or coaxed or harried their unwilling parents into bringing them. A few of the older ones, mostly boys and tomboy girls, arrived by themselves, laughing and stamping snow, with knees and ankles sopping wet, and rubber boots wet inside. There was plenty to be done, drying them up and taking care that they didn’t catch cold. Fortunately a few mothers and a father or two remained and helped quite materially.

The party began in great shape. Ruth sent the children scurrying across the room in rows first, to pick up peanuts that had been laid down at intervals, and the exercise warmed them all up. Next they went to the other games for a time, until they were all out of breath and glad to sit down. Then she grouped them in front of the blackboard and told her picture story. After that, one by one, each was blindfolded and gravely walked ahead with a stocking solemnly grasped in his hand, to hang it on the cotton chimney place, and they had great laughs over the crooked walk of the little pilgrims.

Then they all sat down in the semicircle at the little tables to eat their ice cream and cake.

The helping mothers and fathers were serving now and Ruth, while she filled the paper stockings from the pile of bundles concealed behind the cotton fireplace, reflected that it was almost over and she would soon be free.

At last the weary happy children were being stuffed into leggings and rubber boots and the mothers were telling her what a wonderful time the children had had, and how they thanked her for the beautiful picture lesson. They said they never would forget it and they thought the children would always have a better idea of what Christmas meant, and they intended to follow up the lesson.

Ruth scarcely heard them. She was thinking that it was almost time for her to go. Then she followed them to the door and saw with horror the denseness of the storm. It seemed impassable and she came back in a panic. She telephoned to the garage almost in terror. Perhaps, after all, she would have to spend the night here in the lonely church!

Bill Gates was very nice. He told her the car was ready and he would send it around, but that she mustn’t think of driving it out to the farm until he got around with the snow plow, which would be in a few minutes now.

She turned away and stared at the gloomy window that was covered so thickly with snow.

Lance would think he had to come for her, of course, if he were back from the mountain with the tree. Oh, suppose he wasn’t! Suppose he should get lost on the mountain in the snow! But that was nonsense, of course. Lance was a man and could take care of himself. Still, she must prevent him from walking all the way to the village to drive her back.

So she called the Devereaux house and had that breathless moment with Lance, reassuring herself, so happy to know he was safely home and happily unconscious of the more perilous call that was on its way to him.

Ruth hurried back to help the janitor wash the spoons and ice cream saucers, and be ready to go when Bill Gates came, her eyes happy and her cheeks rosy at the thought of what was before her. As she worked swiftly wiping dishes and putting them away, she thought how she would arrive at the farm, and Lance would be out in the storm to meet her, and perhaps swing into the car and drive it into the garage for her. He would have a path all shoveled up to the house and they would go in to the light and warmth, and Christmas would begin! Lights and the tree and the open fire, good things to eat and loving friends all around! It was going to be wonderful! She was tired, but very happy. And she needn’t worry a bit about driving in the storm, with the snowplow close ahead of her, and Bill Gates to call to for help if anything went wrong. Christmas had begun in her heart already.