At other times they gathered upon the veranda or in the parlors and entertained each other with conversation, music, or games of the quiet and innocent kind.

In the meantime many earnest prayers were sent up on behalf of the injured one--the beloved physician--in the closet, in the family worship, and in the sanctuary when they a.s.sembled there on the Sabbath day; and many a silent pet.i.tion as one and another thought of him on his bed of suffering. They prayed in faith, believing that if it were best in the sight of Him who is all-wise and all-powerful and with whom there is no variableness or shadow of turning, their pet.i.tion would be granted.

And at length so it proved; the fever left him, consciousness and reason were restored, and presently the rejoicing physicians were able to declare the danger past, the recovery certain should nothing occur to cause a relapse.

Then there was great rejoicing among those who were of his kith and kin, and those to whom he was the beloved physician. Then such as were needed at their places of residence presently bade farewell and departed for their homes; Drs. Conly and Herbert Travilla among them, leaving Dr. Harold in sole charge of the invalid.

Those who had come on the _Dolphin_ decided to return on it, though they would linger somewhat longer--no one feeling it a trial to have to delay for days or weeks where they were.

Frank Dinsmore was one of the earliest to leave, and Chester, finding that more Southern climate beneficial to him at that season of the year, was entirely willing to entrust the business of the firm to his brother for a time.

So, relieved of anxiety in regard to d.i.c.k and still numerous enough to make a very pleasant party, the time pa.s.sed swiftly and most agreeably to them--especially to the two affianced pairs and the children; Cousin Ronald and Max now and then entertaining them by the exertion of their ventriloquial powers. The young people from Magnolia Hall were often with them and their presence added zest to the enjoyment of little Elsie and Ned in the fun made by their indulgent ventriloquists. That particular sport was apt to begin unexpectedly to the children, making it a little more difficult to recognize it as the doings of the ventriloquists.

One afternoon, after playing romping games upon the lawn until weary enough to enjoy a quiet rest on the veranda where the older people were, they had hardly seated themselves when they heard a sound of approaching footsteps, then a voice that seemed like that of a little girl, asking, "Dear little ladies and gentlemen, may I sit here with you for a while? I'm lonesome and would be glad of good company, such as I am sure yours must be."

Some of the children, hearing the voice but not able to see the speaker, seemed struck dumb with surprise.

It was Violet who answered, "Oh, yes, little girl. Take this empty chair by me and tell me who you are."

"Oh, madam, I really can't tell you my name," answered the voice, now seeming to come from the empty chair by Violet's side. "It seems an odd thing to happen, but there are folks who do sometimes forget their own name."

"And that is the case with you now, is it?" laughed Violet. "Your voice sounds like that of a girl, but I very much doubt if you belong to our s.e.x."

"Isn't that rather insulting, madam?" asked the voice in an offended tone.

"Oh, I know you're not a girl or a woman either!" cried Ned Raymond gleefully, clapping his hands and laughing with delight. "You're a man, just pretending to be a little girl."

"That is insulting, you rude little chap, and I shall just go away,"

returned the voice in indignant tones, followed immediately by the sound of footsteps starting from the chair beside Violet and gradually dying away in the distance.

"Why, she went off in a hurry and I couldn't see her at all!"

exclaimed one of the young visitors; then, as everybody laughed, "Oh, of course it was Cousin Ronald or Cousin Max!"

"Why, the voice sounded to me like that of a little girl," said Violet, "and Cousin Ronald and Max are men."

"Of course they are, and could not talk in the sweet tones of my little girl," said a rough masculine voice that seemed to come from the doorway into the hall.

Involuntarily nearly everybody turned to look for the speaker, but he was not to be seen.

"And who are you and your girl?" asked another voice, seeming to speak from the farther end of the veranda.

"People of consequence, whom you should treat with courtesy," answered the other, who seemed to stand in the doorway.

"As we will if you will come forward and show yourselves," laughed Lucilla, putting up her hand as she spoke to drive away a bee that seemed to buzz about her ears.

"Never mind, Lu; its sting won't damage you seriously," said Max, giving her a look of amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Oh, hark! here come the soldiers again!" exclaimed Elsie Embury, as the notes of a bugle, quickly followed by those of the drum and fife, seemed to come from a distant point on the farther side of the bayou.

"Don't be alarmed, miss; American soldiers don't harm ladies," said the voice from the farther end of the veranda.

"No, I am not at all alarmed," she returned with a look of amus.e.m.e.nt directed first at Cousin Ronald, then at Max; "not in the least afraid of them."

The music continued for a few minutes, all listening silently to it, then as the last strain died away a voice spoke in tones apparently trembling with affright, "Oh, please somebody hide me! hide me quick!

quick! before those troops get here. I'm falsely accused and who knows but they may shoot me down on sight?"

The speaker was not visible, but from the sounds seemed to be on the lawn and very near at hand.

"Oh, run round the house and get the servants to hide you in the kitchen or one of the cellars," cried Ned, not quite able, in the excitement of the moment, to realize that there was not a stranger there who might be really in sore peril.

"Thanks!" returned the voice, and a sound as of some one running swiftly in the prescribed direction accompanied and followed the word.

Then the tramp, tramp, as of soldiers on the march, and the music of the drum and fife seemed to draw nearer and nearer.

"Why, it's real, isn't it?" exclaimed one of the children, jumping up and trying to get a nearer view of the approaching troop.

"Oh, don't be afraid," laughed Grace; "I'm sure they won't hurt us or that poor, frightened man either."

"No," chuckled Ned. "If he went to the kitchen, as I told him to, he'll have plenty of time to hide before they can get here."

"Sure enough, laddie," laughed Cousin Ronald, "they don't appear to be coming on very fast. I hear no more o' their music or their tramp, tramp. Do you?"

"No, sir; and I won't believe they are real live fellows till I see them."

"Well now, Ned," said Lucilla, "I really believe they are very much alive and kindly making a good deal of fun for us."

"Who, who, who?" came at that instant from among the branches of the tree near at hand--or at least seemed to come from there.

"Our two ventriloquist friends," replied Lucilla, gazing up into the tree as if expecting to see and recognize the bird.

"Oh, what was that?" exclaimed one of the little girls, jumping up in affright, as the squeak of a mouse seemed to come from among the folds of her dress.

"Nothing dangerous, my dear," said Mr. Dinsmore, drawing her into the shelter of his arms. "It was no mouse; only a little noise."

"Oh, yes, uncle, I might have known that," she said with a rather hysterical little laugh.

Just then the tramp, tramp was heard again apparently near at hand, at one side of the house, where the troops might be concealed by the trees and shrubs; the music of the drum and fife following the next moment.

"Oh," cried Ned, "won't they catch that fellow who just ran round to the kitchen as I told him to?"

"If they do I hope they won't hurt him," laughed Lucilla.

The music seemed to arouse the anger of several dogs belonging on the place and at that moment they set up a furious barking. The music continued and seemed to come nearer and nearer, the dogs barked more and more furiously; but presently the drum and fife became silent, the dogs ceased barking and all was quiet. But not for long; the voice that had asked for a hiding-place spoke again close at hand.

"Here I am, safe and sound, thanks to the little chap who told me where to hide. The fellows didn't find me and I'm off. But if they come here looking for me, please don't tell which way I've gone.

Good-by."

"Wait a minute and tell us who you are before you go," called out Eric Leland, and from the tree came the owl's "Who, who, who?"