Just Sixteen. Page 4

  WHO ATE THE QUEEN'S LUNCHEON?

  You can imagine the state of excitement into which Otillie Le Breton wasthrown, when, one day in June, her father, the Seigneur of Sark, camehome and told her that the Queen, who was cruising about the Channel inthe royal yacht, had notified him of her intention of landing at Sarkthe next Thursday and of lunching at the Seigneurie.

  It sounds such a fine thing to be the daughter of the Seigneur of Sark,that perhaps you will imagine that Otillie was used to kings and queensand fine company of all sorts, and wonder that she should feel so muchexcited on this occasion. Not at all! The Seigneur of Sark is only aquiet, invalid clergyman who owns his little island just as otherEnglish gentlemen do their estates, letting out the land to farmers andcollecting his rents and paying his taxes like other people; and Otilliewas a simply brought-up girl of fourteen, who knew much less of theworld than most girls of her age in Boston or New York, had never beenoff the Channel Islands, and never set eyes on a "crowned head" in herlife, and she felt exactly as any of us would if we were suddenly toldthat a queen was coming to take a meal in our father's house.

  Queens are not common apparitions in any of the Channel Islands, andleast of all in little Sark. It is a difficult place to get to even forcommon people. The island, which is only three miles long, is walled bya line of splendid cliffs over three hundred feet high. Its only harboris a strip of beach, defended by a tiny breakwater, from which a steeproad is tunnelled up through the rocks to the interior of the island. Inrough weather, when the wind blows and the sea runs high, which is thecase five days out of seven in summer, and six-and-a-half days out ofseven in winter, boats dare not make for this difficult landing, whichis called by the natives "The Creux"--or hole. It is reported that someyears since when the Lords of the Admiralty were on a tour of inspectionthey sailed all round Sark and sailed away again, reporting that noplace could be discovered where it was possible to land, which seemedto the Sarkites a very good joke indeed.

  There are four principal islands in the Channel group: Alderney andJersey, from which come the cows all of us know about; Guernsey, whosecattle, though not so celebrated on this side of the sea, are held bythe islanders as superior to all others; and Sark, the smallest and byfar the most beautiful of the four. It is a real story-book island. Thesoft, sea-climate and the drifting mists of the Gulf Stream nourish inits green valleys all manner of growing things. Flowers flourish thereas nowhere else. Heliotropes grow into great clumps, and red and pinkgeraniums into bushes. Fuchsias and white-starred jessamines climb tothe very roofs of the mossy old farm-houses, which stand knee-deep, asit were, in vines and flowers. Long links of rose-colored bindweed liein tangles along the dusty roadside; you tread on them as you walkthrough the shady lanes, between hedge-rows of ivy and sweet-brier andbriony, from whose leaves shine out little glittering beetles, in mailcoats of flashing, iridescent green, like those which the Cuban ladieswear on their lace dresses as a decoration. There is only one wagonkept for hire on the island, and all is primitive and peaceful and fullof rest and repose.

  But there are wonderful things too, as well as beautiful ones,--strangespouting-holes in the middle of green fields, where the sea has worn itsway far inland, and, with a roar, sends sudden shocks of surf up throughits chimney-like vent. Caves too, full of dim green light, in whosepools marvellous marine creatures flourish--

  "The fruitage and bloom of the Ocean,"

  or strange spines of rock path linking one end of the island with theother by a road not over five feet wide, from whose undefended edges thesheer precipice goes down on either side for hundreds of feet into theocean. There are natural arches in the rocks also through which thewonderful blue-green sea glances and leaps. All about the island thewater is of this remarkable color, like the plumage of a peacock or adragonfly's glancing wings, and out of it rise strange rock-shapes,pyramids and obelisks and domes, over which white surf breaksconstantly.

  Some of the most remarkable of these rocks are beneath the Seigneurie,whose shaven lawns and walled gardens stretch to the cliff top andcommand a wide sea-view. It is a fine old house, with terraces and stonebalustrades over which vines cluster thickly, and peacocks sit,spreading their many-eyed tails to the sun, as if trying to outdo thestrange, flashing, iridescent sea.

  Otillie herself always fed these peacocks, which were old familyfriends. There were six of them, Bluet and Cramoisie,--the parents ofthe flock, who had been named by Mrs. Le Breton, who was aFrenchwoman,--Peri and Fee de Fees, and Lorenzo the Magnificent and theGreat Panjandrum, these last christened by Otillie herself on account oftheir size and stately demeanor. The beautiful creatures were quitetame. They would take food from her hand, and if she failed to presentherself at the accustomed time with her bowl of millet and bread, theywould put their heads in at the terrace windows and scream, till sherecollected her duty and came to them.

  I am afraid that the peacocks were rather neglected for the few dayspreceding the Queen's visit, for everybody at the Seigneurie was verybusy. Mr. Le Breton, as a general thing, lived simply enough. His wifehad died when Otillie was only six years old. Miss Niffin the governess,Marie the cook, two housemaids, and an old butler who had served thefamily for a quarter of a century made up the establishment indoors.Otillie had her basin of porridge and cream and her slice of bread ateight o'clock every morning, and bread and milk and "kettle-tea" forsupper, with now and then a taste of jam by way of a treat. The servantslived chiefly on "Jersey soup," a thick broth of oatmeal, vegetables,and fish, with a trifle of bacon or salt-beef to give it a relish. Mr.Le Breton had his morning coffee in his study, and the early dinner,which he shared with Otillie and Miss Niffin, was not an elaborate one.

  These being the customs of the Seigneurie, it can easily be imaginedthat it taxed every resource of the establishment to provide suitablyfor the Queen's entertainment. All the island knew of the importantevent and longed to advise and help. The farmers sent their thickestcream and freshest strawberries and lettuces, desirous to prove theirloyalty not to their sovereign only, but also to their landlord. Marie,the cook, spent the days in reading over her most difficult recipes,and could not sleep at night. A friend of hers, once second cook to theEarl of Dunraven, but now retired on her laurels into private life,offered to come for a few days to assist, and to fabricate a certainfamous game pasty, of which it was asserted the English aristocracy areinordinately fond. Peter the butler crossed over to Guernsey twiceduring the week with a long list of indispensables to be filled up atthe shops there, hampers of wine came from London, and hot-house grapesand nectarines from friends in Jersey; the whole house was in a bustle,and nothing was spoken of but the Queen and the Queen's visit, what shewould wear and say and do, whom she would bring with her, and what sortof weather she would have for her coming.

  This last point was the one on which Otillie was most solicitous. A truechild of Sark, she knew all about its tides and currents, the dangers ofthe island channels, and the differences which a little more or lesswind and sea made in the navigation of them. She could recollect onestormy winter, when a Guernsey doctor who had come over to set a brokenarm was detained for three weeks on the island, in plain sight all thetime of his own home in St. Peterport, but as unable to get to it as ifit had been a thousand miles away!

  "It would be dreadful if the Queen came and then could not get awayagain for three weeks!" she said to herself. "It would be awfullyinteresting to have her here, of course--but I don't quite know what weshould do--or what she would do!" She tried to make a picture of it inher mind, but soon gave up the attempt. Provisions are scarce sometimeson Sark when the wind blows and the boats cannot get in. There wouldalways be milk and vegetables and fruit if it were summer, and perhapschickens enough could be collected to hold out; but there was somethingterrible in the idea of a queen without butcher's meat! Otillie'simagination refused to compass it!

  Her very first thought when the important day dawned was the weather.

  She waked with the first sunbeam a
nd ran at once to the window. When shesaw a clear sky and the sun rising out of a still sea, she gave a screamof delight.

  "What is the matter?" asked Miss Niffin sleepily from the next room.

  "It's good weather," replied Otillie. "We've got the most beautiful dayfor the Queen to come in."

  Miss Niffin's only answer was a little groan. She was a small, shyperson, and the idea of confronting royalty made her dreadfully nervous."Oh, if the day were only over!" she said to herself; and she longed toplead a headache and stay in bed, but she dared not. Besides, she feltthat it would be cowardly to desert her post on such an importantoccasion and leave Otillie alone; so she braced her mind to face theawful necessity and began to dress.

  Mr. Le Breton, awakening about the same time, gave a groan a good deallike Miss Niffin's. He was a loyal subject, and felt the honor that wasdone him by the Queen's inviting herself to luncheon; but, all the same,invalids do not like to be put out of their way, and he, too, wished theday well done.

  "Ten to one I shall be laid up for the next month to pay for it," hereflected. Then he too braced himself to the necessity and rang for hotwater, determined to do his duty as a man and a Seigneur.

  Otillie was perhaps the only person in the house who was really glad tohave the day come. The servants were tired and fretted with a sense ofresponsibility. Marie had passed a dreadful night, full of dreams offailure and spoiled dishes.

  "Now just as sure as guns my rolls will have failed to rise this day ofall the days of the year," was her first waking thought. But no, therolls were light as a feather, and the sponge and almond cakes came outof the oven delicately browned and quite perfect in taste andappearance. Nothing went wrong; and when Mr. Le Breton, just beforestarting for the Creux harbor to meet the royal party, took a look intothe dining-room to make sure that all was right, he said to himself thathe had never seen a prettier or more complete little "spread."

  The table was ornamented with hot-house fruit and flowers, beautifullyarranged by Miss Niffin and Otillie. All the fine old Le Breton platehad been brought out and polished, the napery shone like iced snow,there were some quaint pieces of old Venetian glass, jugs, dishes, andflagons, and a profusion of pretty confections, jellies, blanc-manges,crystallized fruits, and bonbons, to give sparkle and color. The lightstreamed in at the windows which opened on the terrace, from under thevines the flash of the waves could be seen, the curtains waved in thewind, which was blowing inland. Nothing could be prettier; the onlydiscord was the noisy scream of the peacocks on the lawn, who seemed asmuch upset and disturbed by the great event as the rest of thehousehold.

  "Can't something be done to stop those creatures?" said Mr. Le Breton."Tie them up somewhere, can't you, Otillie, or send a boy to drive themdown to the farm."

  "It's only because they are hungry," replied Otillie rather absently. "Ihaven't given them their breakfast yet."

  She was sticking long stems of fronded Osmundas into a jar as adecoration for the fireplace, and scarcely noticed what her father said.It was some minutes after the carriage drove away before she finished;then, with a sigh of relief, she brushed up the leaves she had scatteredon the carpet, and ran upstairs to change her dress. It would never doto be caught by the Queen in a holland frock, with her hair blown abouther eyes, and green finger-tips!

  The clock struck one as she fastened her white dress and patted smooththe bows of her wide pink sash. One was the hour fixed for the Queen toland, so there was no time to lose. Otillie only waited for a glance inat the door of the spare room, where the Queen, if so minded, was totake off her things. She glanced at the bed with a sort of awe as thepossible repository of a royal bonnet, altered the position of a bowl ofroses on the mantelpiece, and then hurried down to join Miss Niffin,who, attired in her best black silk and a pair of lace mitts, was seateddecorously in the hall doing nothing. Otillie sat down beside her. Itwas rather a nervous waiting, and a long one; for half an hour passed,three quarters, and finally the clock struck two, before wheels wereheard on the gravel, and during all that time the two watchers spokescarcely a word. Only once Otillie cried as a gust of wind blew thecurtains straight out into the room, "O dear! I hope it isn't rough. Odear! wouldn't it be dreadful if the Queen were to be sick? She wouldnever like Sark again!"

  "I think her Majesty must be used to the sea, she sails so much,"replied Miss Niffin. The gust died away and did not blow the curtainsany more, and again they sat in silence, waiting and listening.

  "At last!" cried Otillie as the distinct roll of wheels was heard onthe drive. Her heart beat fast, but she got up bravely, straightened herslender little figure as became a Le Breton, and walked out on to theporch. Her eyes seemed strangely dazzled by the sun--for she could seeno one in the carriage but her father.

  It rolled up to the door, and Otillie felt a great throb ofdisappointment rise like a wave in her heart, and spread and swell! Mr.Le Breton had come back alone!

  "Papa," she cried, as soon as she could speak, "what _has_ happened?Where is the Queen?"

  "I hope nothing has gone amiss with her Gracious Majesty," put in MissNiffin from behind.

  Mr. Le Breton got out of the carriage before he replied. He looked tiredand annoyed.

  "You can drive to the stable, Thomas," he said; "the carriage will notbe wanted." Then he turned to Miss Niffin.

  "Her Gracious Majesty has decided not to land," he went on. "The windhas sprung up and made rather a sea outside the breakwater; nothing tosignify by the Sark standard, but enough to deter inexperienced persons.I waited at the Creux for nearly an hour, and every man, woman, andchild on the island waited with me, with the exception of you andOtillie and the servants, and then the captain of the royal yachtsignalled that he could not risk putting the Queen ashore in a smallboat in such rough water. So the thing is given up."

  There was a certain latent relief in Mr. Le Breton's tone.

  "Oh!" cried Otillie, stamping her foot. "How hateful of the wind tospring up! It could have waited as well as not! It has all the rest ofthe time to blow in, and now all the nice preparations are thrown away,and all our pleasant time spoiled, and just as likely as not the Queenwill never come to Sark at all." Her voice died away into a storm ofsobs.

  "I wish I could be assured of that," remarked her father in a tone ofweary resignation. "What I am afraid of is that she will come, or try tocome, another day, and then there will be all this to do over again."

  He indicated by a gesture the door of the dining-room, from which queermuffled sounds were heard just then.

  "Peter seems as much afflicted by this disappointment as you are,Otillie," he added. "Come, my child, don't cry over the matter. It can'tbe helped. Wind and waves oblige nobody, not even kings and queens."

  "There are compensations for all our troubles," said Miss Niffin in herprimmest tone. "We must bear up, and try to feel that all is for thebest." Miss Niffin seemed to find it quite easy to be morally consoledfor her share of loss in the giving up of the Queen's visit.

  "How can you talk in that way!" cried Otillie, who was not in the leastin awe of Miss Niffin. "If I had broken my comb, you would have saidexactly the same, I know you would! There isn't any compensation at allfor this trouble, and it's no use my trying to feel that it's for thebest,--it isn't."

  "We never know," replied Miss Niffin piously.

  "Come," said Mr. Le Breton, desiring to put an end to the altercation,"I don't know why we should go hungry because her Majesty won't come andeat our luncheon. Take my arm, Miss Niffin, and let us have something toeat. Marie will break her heart if all her trouble and pains are notappreciated by somebody."

  The peacocks, tired of waiting for their morning meal,and finding the windows open, had entered and helped themselves.--_Page107._]

  He gave his arm to Miss Niffin as he spoke, and moved forward to thedining-room. Otillie followed, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief,and feeling that the dainties would stick in her throat if she tried toswallow them, she was so very, very, dreadfully disappointe
d.

  But when Mr. Le Breton reached the dining-room door he stopped suddenlyas if shot, and gave a sort of shout! No one could speak for a moment.There was the feast, so prettily and tastefully arranged only an hourbefore, a mass of ruins! The flowers were upset, the fruit, tumbled andmashed, stained the cloth and the floor. Wine and lemonade dripped fromthe table's edge. The pink and yellow jellies, the forms of CharlotteRusse and blanc-mange and the frosted cakes and tarts were reduced tosmears and crumbs. Where the gigantic pasty had stood remained only anempty dish, and above the remains, rearing, pecking, clawing, gobbling,appeared six long blue-green necks, which dipped and rose and dippedagain!

  The peacocks, tired of waiting for their morning meal, and finding thewindows open, had entered and helped themselves! There was Lorenzo theMagnificent with a sponge-cake in his beak, and Peri gobbling down alump of blanc-mange, and the Grand Panjandrum with both claws embeddedin a pyramid of macaroons. Their splendid tails were draggled with creamand crumbs, and sticky with jelly; altogether they presented a mostgreedy and disreputable appearance! The strangest part of the whole wasthat while they stuffed themselves they preserved a dead silence, anddid not express their enjoyment by one of their usual noisy screams. Itwas evident that they felt that the one great opportunity of their liveswas going on, and that they must make the most of it.

  At the sound of Mr. Le Breton's shout the peacocks started guiltily.Then they gathered up their tails as best they might, and, half flying,half running, scuttled out of the windows and far across the lawn,screaming triumphantly as they went, while Otillie tumbled into a chairand laughed till she cried.

  "Oh! didn't they look funny?" she gasped, holding her sides.

  "Rather expensive fun," replied the Seigneur ruefully. "But it is onecomfort that we have it to ourselves." Then the humor of the situationseized on him also, and he sat down and laughed almost as hard asOtillie.

  "Dear me! what a mercy that her Majesty didn't come!" remarked MissNiffin in an awe-struck tone.

  "Good gracious," cried Otillie with sudden horror at the thought,"suppose she had! Suppose we had all walked in at that door and foundthe peacocks here! And of course we should! Of course they would havedone it just the same if there had been fifty queens to see them! Howdreadful it would have been! Oh, there are compensations, Miss Niffin; Isee it now."

  So Otillie was reconciled to her great disappointment, though the Queennever has tried to land at Sark again, and perhaps never will. For, asOtillie sensibly says, "It is a great deal better that we should bedisappointed than that the Queen should be; for if she had been veryhungry, and most likely she would have been after sailing and all, shewould not have thought the Grand Panjandrum with his feet in themacaroons half so funny as we did, and would have been truly and reallyvexed."

  So it was all for the best, as Miss Niffin said.