Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [15]
‘I had a feeling that something was going to happen when I went to bed tonight,’ said Aunt Mary Maria, pressing both hands to her temples. ‘When I read my nightly chapter in the Bible the words, “Ye know not what a day may bring forth,” seemed to stand out from the page, as it were. It was a sign. You’d better nerve yourself to bear the worst, Annie. He may have wandered into the marsh. It’s a pity we haven’t a few bloodhounds.’
With a dreadful effort Anne managed a laugh.
‘I’m afraid there aren’t any on the island, Auntie. If we had Gilbert’s old setter Rex, who got poisoned, he would soon find Jem. I feel sure we are all alarming ourselves for nothing…’
‘Tommy Spencer in Carmody disappeared mysteriously forty years ago and was never found… or was he? Well, if he was, it was only his skeleton. This is no laughing matter, Annie. I don’t know how you can take it so calmly.’
The telephone rang. Anne and Susan looked at each other.
‘I can’t… I can’t go to the phone, Susan,’ said Anne in a whisper.
‘I can’t either,’ said Susan flatly. She was to hate herself all her days for showing such weakness before Mary Maria Blythe, but she could not help it. Two hours of terrified searching and distorted imaginations had made Susan a wreck.
Aunt Mary Maria stalked to the telephone and took down the receiver, her crimpers making a horned silhouette on the wall which Susan reflected, in spite of her anguish, looked like the old Nick himself.
‘Carter Flagg says they have searched everywhere but found no sign of him yet,’ reported Aunt Mary Maria coolly. ‘But he says the dory is out in the middle of the pond with no one in it as far as they can ascertain. They are going to drag the pond.’
Susan caught Anne just in time.
‘No… no… I’m not going to faint, Susan,’ said Anne through white lips. ‘Help me to a chair… thanks… we must find Gilbert…’
‘If James is drowned, Annie, you must remind yourself that he has been spared a lot of trouble in this wretched world,’ said Aunt Mary Maria by way of administering further consolation.
‘I’m going to get the lantern and search the grounds again,’ said Anne, as soon as she could stand up. ‘Yes, I know you did, Susan, but let me… let me. I cannot sit still and wait.’
‘You must put on a sweater then, Mrs Doctor dear. There’s a heavy dew and the air is damp. I will get your red one, it is hanging on a chair in the boys’ room. Wait you here till I bring it.’
Susan hurried upstairs. A few moments later something that could only be described as a shriek echoed through Ingleside. Anne and Aunt Mary Maria rushed upstairs, where they found Susan laughing and crying in the hall, nearer to hysterics than Susan Baker had ever been in her life or ever would be again.
‘Mrs Doctor dear… he’s there. Little Jem is there… asleep on the window seat behind the door. I never looked there… the door hid it… and when he wasn’t in his bed…’
Anne, weak with relief and joy, got herself into the room and dropped on her knees by the window seat. In a little while she and Susan would be laughing over their own foolishness, but now there could be only tears of thankfulness. Little Jem was sound asleep on the window seat, with an afghan pulled over him, his battered Teddy Bear in his little sunburned hands, and a forgiving Shrimp stretched across his legs. His red curls fell over the cushion. He seemed to be having a pleasant dream and Anne did not mean to waken him. But suddenly he opened eyes that were like hazel stars and looked at her.
‘Jem, darling, why aren’t you in your bed? We’ve… we’ve been a little alarmed… we couldn’t find you… and we never thought of looking here…’
‘I wanted to lie here ’cause I could see you and Daddy drive in at the gate when you got home. It was so lonesome I just had to go to bed.’
Mother was lifting him up in her arms, carrying him to his own bed. It was so nice to be kissed… to feel her tucking the sheets about him with those caressing little pats that gave him such a sense of being loved. Who cared about seeing an old snake tattooed anyhow? Mother was so nice, the nicest mother anybody