Nora added her entreaties.

"We know you can do very well, Alvin, though of course not half so well as Mike, for _n.o.body_ can do that," was the nave argument of the miss.

"No, sir," said Alvin emphatically, and, a.s.suming deep solemnity, he raised his hand. "I vow that I will never, never sing in Mike's presence.

I can stand a joke as well as most persons, but that is the limit. Here's Chester, however. He will be glad to give Mike a few lessons."

The fun of it was that Chester could not sing the chromatic scale correctly if his life were at stake. He was not rattled by the request.

"Mike, can you play the accompaniment to 'Greenville'?" he asked.

"How does it go? Hum the same fur me so I can catch it."

Chester stood up and "hummed," but without the slightest resemblance to any tune that the others had ever heard.

"That gits me," commented Mike, "as Teddy O'Rourke said whin the p'liceman grabbed him. If ye'll sthrike in I'll do my best to keep wid ye."

"No, sir; I decline to play second fiddle to anyone," and Chester resumed his seat as if in high dudgeon.

At this moment Nora asked of Mike:

"Did you ever make up music for yourself?"

"I have tried once or twice, but didn't do much."

"Oh, please sing us something of your own."

"A leddy on the steamer that brought me over give me some printed words one day wid the requist that I should try to put some music to 'em. I furgot the same till after she had gone, but I'll make the effort if ye all won't be too hard on me."

(This was the only reference that Mike was ever heard to make to the incidents recorded in the previous chapter.)

And then the Irish lad sang "The Sweet Long Ago."

CHAPTER XV

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR

Alvin easily caught the swing of the ba.s.s and sang when the chorus was reached. Mike barely touched the keys, bringing out a few faint chords that could not add to the sweetness of his voice. Mrs. Friestone sat motionless, looking intently at him until he came to the last words. Then she abruptly took off her gla.s.ses and put her handkerchief to her eyes.

The sweet long ago! Again she saw the handsome, st.u.r.dy youth when he returned from the war for the defence of his country, as brave, as resolute, as aflame with patriotism as in his earlier years, but with frame wrenched by painful wounds. Their lives were inexpressibly happy from the time she became a bride, and their maturer age was blessed by the gift of darling Nora. Existence became one grand sweet dream--more happy, more radiant and more a foretaste of what awaited them all in the great beyond. That loved form had vanished in the sweet long ago, but the memory could never fade or grow dim.

It was the song that brought back the picture with a vividness it had not worn for many a year. The tears would come, and Nora, glancing at her mother, buried her face in her own handkerchief and sobbed. Alvin and Chester sat silent, and Mike, turning gently on the stool, looked sympathetically at mother and daughter.

"Thank you, Mike," came a soft, choking voice from behind the snowy bit of linen, and the brave lad winked rapidly and fought back the tears that crowded into his honest eyes.

It was not strange that the effect of Mike Murphy's beautiful singing of the touching songs brooded like a benison throughout the evening. Even Nora, when asked to favor them again, shook her head.

"Not after Mike," she replied, her eyes gleaming more brightly through the moisture not yet dried.

It was impossible for the Irish lad to restrain his humor, and soon he had them all smiling, but there was no loud laughter such as greeted his first sallies, and the conversation as a whole was soberer and more thoughtful. Alvin and Chester told of their school experiences, and finally Mike related his adventure when marooned on the lonely island well out toward the Atlantic and his friends found him after they had given him up as drowned.

So the evening wore away until, at a seasonable hour, the head of the household said that when they wished to retire she would show them to their room. Just then Mike had his hand over his mouth in the effort to repress a yawn. Nora laughingly pointed at him.

"In a few minutes he'll be asleep and will tumble off his chair."

"I'm afeard ye're right, as I replied to me tacher whin he obsarved that I was the biggest numskull in Tipperary County. Come, Captain and sicond mate--ye won't forgit, Miss Nora, that I'm _first_ mate of the battleship _Deerfut_."

The girl went to the kitchen from which she speedily returned, carrying a hand lamp, which she gave to her mother. She nodded to the lads, who followed her to the door of the apartment a.s.signed them for the night.

They entered behind her as she set the light on the stand and turned about.

"I think you will find everything as you wish."

"It couldn't be itherwise, whin it's yersilf that has provided the same.

Be that token, we're getting more than we desarve."

"Nothing could be finer," added Alvin, glancing round the lighted room.

"It's as neat as a pin and we shall sleep the sleep of the just."

The three had noticed when in the parlor the portrait suspended in the place of honor. The blue uniform, the military cap resting on one knee, and the strong, expressive face told their own story. It was the picture of Captain Carter Friestone, taken many a year before, when in the flush of his patriotic young manhood. A smaller picture was on the wall of the bedroom of mother and daughter.

The chamber which the lads entered was graced with two small, inexpensive pictures of a religious character, a pretty rug covered most of the floor, the walls were tastefully papered and there were several chairs, to say nothing of the mirror, stand and other conveniences.

Not only was the broad bed with its snowy counterpane and downy pillows roomy enough for two, but a wide cot had been placed on the other side of the neat little room for whoever chose to sleep upon it.

That which caught the eye of the three was a musket leaning in the far corner. Chester stepped across, and asking permission of Mrs. Friestone, picked it up and brought it over to where the light was stronger. He saw it was a Springfield rifle, but the lock and base of the barrel were torn into gaping rents.

"I suppose this belonged to the captain," said Chester inquiringly. The widow nodded her head.

"And it did good service--that is certain," added Chester, with his companions beside him scrutinizing the weapon. "But it seems to have been injured."

She smiled faintly.

"Carter brought it home from the war, declaring it was better than when new. He put a double charge in one Fourth of July morning, forgetting that the weapon was much worn from many previous firings. It exploded at the lock and came very near killing him. But," she added, with a sigh, "it is very precious to me."

"I am sure of that," said Chester as he reverently carried the gun back to the corner.

The good woman kissed each lad on the forehead. When she thus saluted Mike, who was the last, she placed her thin hand on his head, and said with infinite tenderness:

"I thank you for what you did to-night."

"I beg ye don't mintion it----"

Mike stopped abruptly, and pretending to see something interesting in the old rifle, hurried across the room to examine it more closely.

"Good night and pleasant dreams," called the lady as she pa.s.sed out, noiselessly closing the door behind her.