"You were cowards," said Jerry with judicial1 scorn, "and you gave way to your cowardice2. That is why you should be punished. Everybody will laugh at you about this, and that is a disgrace to the family."
"If you knew how awful the whole thing was," said Faith with a shiver, "you would think we had been punished enough already. I wouldn't go through it again for anything in the whole world."
"I believe you'd have run yourself if you'd been there," muttered
Carl.
"From an old woman in a cotton sheet," mocked Jerry. "Ho, ho, ho!"
"It didn't look a bit like an old woman," cried Faith. "It was just a great, big, white thing crawling about in the grass just as Mary Vance said Henry Warren did. It's all very fine for you to laugh, Jerry Meredith, but you'd have laughed on the other side of your mouth if you'd been there. And how are we to be punished? I don't think it's fair, but let's know what we have to do, Judge Meredith!"
"The way I look at it," said Jerry, frowning, "is that Carl was the most to blame. He bolted first, as I understand it. Besides, he was a boy, so he should have stood his ground to protect you girls, whatever the danger was. You know that, Carl, don't you?"
"Very well. This is to be your punishment. To-night you'll sit on Mr. Hezekiah Pollock's tombstone in the graveyard4 alone, until twelve o'clock."
Carl gave a little shudder5. The graveyard was not so very far from the old Bailey garden. It would be a trying ordeal6, but Carl was anxious to wipe out his disgrace and prove that he was not a coward after all.
"All right," he said sturdily. "But how'll I know when it is twelve?"
"The study windows are open and you'll hear the clock striking. And mind you that you are not to budge7 out of that graveyard until the last stroke. As for you girls, you've got to go without jam at supper for a week."
Faith and Una looked rather blank. They were inclined to think that even Carl's comparatively short though sharp agony was lighter8 punishment than this long drawn-out ordeal. A whole week of soggy bread without the saving grace of jam! But no shirking was permitted in the club. The girls accepted their lot with such philosophy as they could summon up.
That night they all went to bed at nine, except Carl, who was already keeping vigil on the tombstone. Una slipped in to bid him good night. Her tender heart was wrung9 with sympathy.
"Oh, Carl, are you much scared?" she whispered.
"Not a bit," said Carl airily.
"I won't sleep a wink10 till after twelve," said Una. "If you get lonesome just look up at our window and remember that I'm inside, awake, and thinking about you. That will be a little company, won't it?"
"I'll be all right. Don't you worry about me," said Carl.
But in spite of his dauntless words Carl was a pretty lonely boy when the lights went out in the manse. He had hoped his father would be in the study as he so often was. He would not feel alone then. But that night Mr. Meredith had been summoned to the fishing village at the harbour mouth to see a dying man. He would not likely be back until after midnight. Carl must dree his weird11 alone.
A Glen man went past carrying a lantern. The mysterious shadows caused by the lantern-light went hurtling madly over the graveyard like a dance of demons12 or witches. Then they passed and darkness fell again. One by one the lights in the Glen went out. It was a very dark night, with a cloudy sky, and a raw east wind that was cold in spite of the calendar. Far away on the horizon was the low dim lustre13 of the Charlottetown lights. The wind wailed14 and sighed in the old fir-trees. Mr. Alec Davis' tall monument gleamed whitely through the gloom. The willow15 beside it tossed long, writhing16 arms spectrally17. At times, the gyrations of its boughs18 made it seem as if the monument were moving, too.
Carl curled himself up on the tombstone with his legs tucked under him. It wasn't precisely19 pleasant to hang them over the edge of the stone. Just suppose—just suppose—bony hands should reach up out of Mr. Pollock's grave under it and clutch him by the ankles. That had been one of Mary Vance's cheerful speculations20 one time when they had all been sitting there. It returned to haunt Carl now. He didn't believe those things; he didn't even really believe in Henry Warren's ghost. As for Mr. Pollock, he had been dead sixty years, so it wasn't likely he cared who sat on his tombstone now. But there is something very strange and terrible in being awake when all the rest of the world is asleep. You are alone then with nothing but your own feeble personality to pit against the mighty21 principalities and powers of darkness. Carl was only ten and the dead were all around him—and he wished, oh, he wished that the clock would strike twelve. Would it NEVER strike twelve? Surely Aunt Martha must have forgotten to wind it.
And then it struck eleven—only eleven! He must stay yet another hour in that grim place. If only there were a few friendly stars to be seen! The darkness was so thick it seemed to press against his face. There was a sound as of stealthy passing footsteps all over the graveyard. Carl shivered, partly with prickling terror, partly with real cold.
Then it began to rain—a chill, penetrating22 drizzle23. Carl's thin little cotton blouse and shirt were soon wet through. He felt chilled to the bone. He forgot mental terrors in his physical discomfort24. But he must stay there till twelve—he was punishing himself and he was on his honour. Nothing had been said about rain—but it did not make any difference. When the study clock finally struck twelve a drenched25 little figure crept stiffly down off Mr. Pollock's tombstone, made its way into the manse and upstairs to bed. Carl's teeth were chattering26. He thought he would never get warm again.
He was warm enough when morning came. Jerry gave one startled look at his crimson27 face and then rushed to call his father. Mr. Meredith came hurriedly, his own face ivory white from the pallor of his long night vigil by a death bed. He had not got home until daylight. He bent28 over his little lad anxiously.
"Carl, are you sick?" he said.
"That—tombstone—over here," said Carl, "it's—moving—about— it's coming—at—me—keep it—away—please."
Mr. Meredith rushed to the telephone. In ten minutes Dr. Blythe was at the manse. Half an hour later a wire was sent to town for a trained nurse, and all the Glen knew that Carl Meredith was very ill with pneumonia29 and that Dr. Blythe had been seen to shake his head.
Gilbert shook his head more than once in the fortnight that followed. Carl developed double pneumonia. There was one night when Mr. Meredith paced his study floor, and Faith and Una huddled30 in their bedroom and cried, and Jerry, wild with remorse31, refused to budge from the floor of the hall outside Carl's door. Dr. Blythe and the nurse never left the bedside. They fought death gallantly32 until the red dawn and they won the victory. Carl rallied and passed the crisis in safety. The news was phoned about the waiting Glen and people found out how much they really loved their minister and his children.
"I haven't had one decent night's sleep since I heard the child was sick," Miss Cornelia told Anne, "and Mary Vance has cried until those queer eyes of hers looked like burnt holes in a blanket. Is it true that Carl got pneumonia from straying out in the graveyard that wet night for a dare?"
"No. He was staying there to punish himself for cowardice in that affair of the Warren ghost. It seems they have a club for bringing themselves up, and they punish themselves when they do wrong. Jerry told Mr. Meredith all about it."
"The poor little souls," said Miss Cornelia.
Carl got better rapidly, for the congregation took enough nourishing things to the manse to furnish forth33 a hospital. Norman Douglas drove up every evening with a dozen fresh eggs and a jar of Jersey34 cream. Sometimes he stayed an hour and bellowed35 arguments on predestination with Mr. Meredith in the study; oftener he drove on up to the hill that overlooked the Glen.
When Carl was able to go again to Rainbow Valley they had a special feast in his honour and the doctor came down and helped them with the fireworks. Mary Vance was there, too, but she did not tell any ghost stories. Miss Cornelia had given her a talking on that subject which Mary would not forget in a hurry.
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1
judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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2
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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3
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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6
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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7
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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8
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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9
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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10
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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11
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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12
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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13
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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14
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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17
spectrally
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| adv.幽灵似地，可怕地 | |
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18
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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19
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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20
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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21
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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23
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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24
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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25
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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26
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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27
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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28
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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29
pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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30
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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32
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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33
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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34
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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35
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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