another week rolled by, and found the crew of the christina ready to say good-bye to moorlow, and yet not ready, for most of them were very loth to go; but the captain was quite recovered, and there was no excuse for their remaining longer. indeed, sister julia thought that those of their number who had sustained no very severe injuries ought to have gone before, but the men seemed anxious to stand by their captain, and she did not quite have the courage to send them off. that such a sad state of things was possible never seemed to enter the mind of any member of the crew. without being in any sense ungrateful, they simply took everything for granted. with the exception of the captain, not one of them ever questioned where the money came from that provided so generously for their wants during those two weeks. they looked upon sister julia as a veritable saint, with illimitable, if not divine, resources, sent to minister to them especially; and the reverential way in which they bade her farewell showed that they so regarded her to the last.
all moorlow was gathered at the station to see them off. everyone who had contributed in any way to their comfort,—and there were few in moorlow who had not—felt a sort of responsibility in giving them a cheery “send off.” even the shabby little croxsons were there, for had they not run on innumerable errands that morning when the crew were rescued? as the train moved away the captain stood upon the rear platform. a neat little bundle was tucked under one arm, for nan, not forgetting her resolution, had presented him at the last moment with the warm comforter which she herself had made. the captain waved a red handkerchief until the station was entirely out of sight, and his last glance, before he turned and went into the car, was toward the hull of the christina, which he could plainly see just where she had stranded that stormy november morning. it seemed to him as though he were saying good-bye to all his past, and with a courage that surprised him he was ready to make a new start. he was very grateful for the fact that his men were thoroughly loyal to him, and felt pretty sure that with such a crew at his service he could easily gain command of some vessel plying between spain and the united states. so it was that with a contented smile he took a seat in the midst of his crew, and, encouraged by their captain's good cheer, the dark-eyed men soon fell to conversing in the liveliest manner in their native spanish, much to the amusement of their fellow-passengers.
it had been a very exciting fortnight for quiet moorlow, but in a marvellously short space of time everything settled back into the old grooves. the little church soon looked as sober and decorous as though it had never served as a temporary hospital, or known the savoury odours of a thanksgiving dinner.
a december storm had beaten the christina's hull literally to pieces, and nothing was left to tell the story of the wreck save the shell which had been shot out with the whip-line, and which captain murray, according to custom, had lettered and dated, and hung in the life-saving station; a trophy of which the crew had good reason to be proud.
the children had resumed their lessons, and regie was counting the days till papa and mamma fairfax would board the homeward-bound steamer at liverpool. the three months, which had seemed a long time to look forward to, had slipped away very quickly, and harry and nan and himself were full of joyous anticipation, for a glorious plan was on foot.
mr. fairfax had written very urgently asking that the murray children might be allowed to spend the christmas holidays with regie in town. captain murray had only given his consent very reluctantly, for he knew the moorlow christmas would be a sorry affair without the children; but nevertheless he had given it, and nan and harry's respective heads were almost turned with delight at the prospect.
it is doubtful if the liveliest imagination could picture all that a whole week in new york meant to these little murrays. they had never been there for more than a day at a time, and then only at rare intervals, and it was not strange that stolen whispers in lesson hours, and long chats out of them, all bore upon the delightful subject of this visit, until, in sister julia's estimation, the children were devoting too much time to sitting indoors, and plotting and planning, and not enough to out-of-door exercise; so she put her wits to work to devise some scheme to bring about a change of affairs.
“there is one thing, regie,” she said, “over which your papa fairfax will be very much disappointed when he comes home.”
she spoke so seriously, that regie looked up at her with a very troubled face, which said, as plainly as words, “whatever do you mean?”
“why, you haven't a single picture to show him. in all this while not a photograph have you taken.”
“that's so,” with a sigh; “but then i don't believe he'll expect it. you can't do much photographing in cold weather; besides, there's nothing to take in winter.”
“you said once that you'd like to take a good picture of me,” nan remarked, showing that she did not consider that the low state of the thermometer in any way diminished her charms, as indeed it did not. there was not a prettier or more breezy little specimen of humanity in existence than nan on one of these wintry afternoons, when she had just, come in from an hour's buffeting with wind and weather on the beach.
“yes, i would like a good picture of you, nan,” said regie, patronisingly, looking at her with his head on one side, after the meditative fashion of an artist regarding his model. “the trouble is, i don't know of any place in this house where you can get a good enough light.”
“and why in the house, pray?” asked sister julia; “it is not a bit too cold to try your hand out of doors. this is just a perfect winter's day, and there is no wind to blow, your camera over.”
“that's so,” assented regie again, “i'm going to get ready,” and suiting the action to the word he bounded out of the room, and the body-guard followed his example.
at the time that mr. fairfax had seen fit to endow regie with a photographing outfit, he had, with no little painstaking, carefully instructed him as just to how the whole process, from beginning to end, must be managed. as a result regie had succeeded in producing some first-rate pictures, “all his own work, too,” as he would have told you proudly. but that was more than a year ago, and before he knew nan and harry. he had some fine plans for the summer just ended, but that unlucky fall from the cherry tree bough had prevented his carrying them out. to be sure, within the last few weeks, since the little leg had so thoroughly mended, he might have gotten to work again as easily as could be, but the excitement following the wreck of the christina had driven all thought of it out of his mind.
the fact that nan knew that regie could take pictures accounted in a measure, perhaps, for the reverence with which she regarded him; but harry was as doubtful of his real ability as in the matter of the earning of the money for the hospital fund, and he hailed with delight the chance he was about to have to put him to the test.
harry and nan were ready in no time, but with the amateur photographer, “getting ready” is a mysterious and laborious proceeding, and rex failed to put in an appearance.
the body-guard waited and waited till, their patience exhausted, they scaled the stairway leading to his royal highness's private apartment, but his majesty was nowhere to be seen.
“why, where is rex?” cried nan.
“i'm in here,” answered a muffled voice.
“what, in the closet?” and harry rushed for it.
“yes, but don't open the door for the world. i'm filling my plate-holders.”
harry and nan looked at each other as much as to say, “what in creation is he talking about?” then by tacit consent they noiselessly crouched down by the closet door, and harry peeped through the keyhole.
his face grew pale, and with a terrified expression he drew nan over so that she could take a look; then with precipitate haste they fled from the room.
“oh, sister julia!” cried nan.
“regie's shut up in his closet,” cried harry.
“and we looked through the keyhole and saw an awful red light,” interrupted nan.
“and we think he has set the closet on fire, and you had better go and see to it right away,” interrupted harry, very much surprised that sister julia did not seem in the least alarmed.
“why, he's only filling his plate-holders,” she exclaimed, laughing,
“yes,” nodded nan, her eyes as large as saucers, “he said something like that.”
“of course he did, and the fire you thought you saw is the light from his ruby lantern.”
“his what!” exclaimed harry; then, after a little pause, he added, “say! won't you explain to us something about it?” ashamed that he had shared nan's fright, and foreseeing that he would be obliged to ask regie more questions than would be at all agreeable.
“why, certainly,” answered sister julia, with a smile still playing about the corners of her mouth. “you see they take these pictures on a plate, that is a square glass which comes for the purpose, coated with a dry, white preparation. mr. fairfax buys them in boxes holding a dozen each, and when regie wants to take pictures he has to take them from the box and put them in his plate-holders. the plate-holders are a sort of little boxes that fit in the back of his camera.”
“his cam-e-ra?” drawled nan.
“yes, that is the name of the instrument he takes the pictures with, but it will ruin the plate to let a ray of daylight touch it before he is ready to take the picture, so rex must needs go into a dark closet, and light his ruby lantern, when the time comes for filling his plate-holders.”
regie appeared on the scene just then, with his apparatus in his arms, and the trio marched off, the king all unconscious of the fright he had given the body-guard, and the body-guard intending never to enlighten him on the subject.
“what shall we take?” said regie, when they had gone a little way down the beach. “i wish we had enough for a group. i like to take groups best.”
“what is a group?” nan asked, shyly.
“why, a group's a lot of people, goosie,” harry answered, for he enjoyed answering questions in direct proportion to his dislike to asking them.
“would the croxsons do, then?” nan queried timidly, often feeling more or less subdued by harry's “goosie.”
“the very thing,” replied rex; “they're so queer-looking, they'll make a jolly funny group.”
“shall i go for them while you're getting your camera ready?” remarked harry, airing his knowledge of the photographic terms. regie nodded yes, and harry was off.
“wouldn't it be nice to take them in that?” said nan, pointing to one of the fishermen's boats drawn up upon the beach.
“of course it would. you're splendid for thinking of things, nan,” regie replied, proceeding to get his instrument in order. nan helped him as best she could, very happy over the fact that such an important personage as he was considered her splendid for anything.
meanwhile the croxsons were hurrying into a miscellaneous assortment of threadbare out-of-door wraps, which were supposed to keep the cold out, but in point of fact did nothing of the sort. they were highly elated over the prospect of having their photographs taken. not one of them had ever experienced that sensation before.
“w-w-won't it be a lark to be t-t-took?” stuttered little madge, beside herself with excitement; and the flushed faces of the other four children showed that they undoubtedly thought it would, the neglected little quintette never dreaming that they had been invited because they were so “queer looking” and would make “a jolly funny group.” but if regie and harry and nan did sometimes have a little fun at the croxsons' expense, they were too well-behaved ever to let them have an inkling of it. as for regie, he was as gallant in his manner to these shabby little specimens as to the would-be little aristocrats in velvet knickerbockers and patent leather pumps whom he was accustomed to meet at dancing school. when the croxsons arrived on the scene, regie, having succeeded in fastening his camera to the tripod, had just plunged his head under the black rubber cloth which hung over it.
“what are you doing?” joe croxson made so bold as to ask.
“focussing on the boat,” was regie's mysterious reply, from the folds of the rubber cloth.
at this answer madge seemed to be somewhat intimidated. the word focussing had an ominous sound in her ears.
“what do you mean by that?” joe asked gruffly, for not one of the little party was a whit wiser than before.
“oh, i'm fixing things so as to be able to take a clear picture of that boat,” regie answered, good-naturedly; “and now i would like you all to run and get into it, ready to be taken.”
at this the party would have scampered off to do his bidding but for little millie croxson, the baby, who had succumbed to a nameless fear, and had to be coaxed and carried to the scene of action.
regie stood at a little distance, wondering how he should pose his party, when suddenly nan exclaimed, “oh, i say! let's do this; let's pretend we have been shipwrecked, and had to take to the boats, and are out on the open sea. and you might take two pictures, rex, one where we think we must all die in the boat, and one where we have hailed a steamer, and are going to be picked up and saved.”
certainly nan was splendid for thinking of things, and the children took to the idea at once; but it took somewhat longer to arrange matters to the satisfaction of everybody. finally it was arranged that the four girls should be huddled together in the stern of the boat, and joe and jim croxson should each have an oar, and lean way forward, as though they were rowing against a very heavy sea, and that harry should be stationed on the bow as a look-out. harry and nan endeavoured, by turning their coats inside out, and one or two other alterations in costume, to make themselves as forlorn as possible. there was something pathetic in the fact that even the croxsons themselves realised they need attempt nothing in this direction; they were sufficiently forlorn as they were.
little millie was supposed to be a half-starved little baby, and had an old handkerchief tied three-cornerwise about her head. as she sat on nan's lap her thin little face looked the character to perfection.
“now,” said rex, when all was in readiness; “you mustn't move, not one of you.”
“c-c-can we w-w-wink?” stuttered madge.
“are we forlorn enough and sorrowful enough?” asked nan.
“how do i look?” urged harry, who stood balanced on the look-out in the stiffest of positions.
“oh, you are all right,” regie answered, collectively; “now, still, every one of you.”
trembling with excitement he uncapped the lens, while he counted one, two, three, four, which were supposed to cover two seconds in time'; and then pop! on went the cap again, but alas! the picture was not taken. rex had forgotten to draw out the slide which would let the picture in on the plate; but before he had time to announce his discovery the children had abandoned their positions in the boat, and were crowding once again around the camera.
regie hated to acknowledge his carelessness. he was loth to take a single step down from the pinnacle on which the children had placed him because of his acquaintance with the photographing art, but it had to be done.
“you'll all have to go back and be taken over again,” he said, disconsolately. “i didn't get any picture that time, because i forgot to do something i ought to.”
the children marched back to the boat, but with faith evidently weakened in the real ability of this would-be photographer. it took some time to gain the properly forlorn expression and look of general despondency, but at last all was in readiness, and the picture was taken.
“now change your positions and smile like everything,” called rex, “as though you saw the steamer that is going to rescue you coming toward you, and i'll take the other picture in a jiffy.”
the children brisked up and obeyed regie's orders by grinning from ear to ear, with the exception of baby millie, whom neither petting nor teasing could coax into so much as the suggestion of a smile. this having your picture taken still seemed to her an uncanny and perilous proceeding.
“say, rex!” called nan, in an anxious tone, “the baby won't look cheerful. i can't make her smile, no matter what i do.” h ere was a real difficulty! rex walked over to the boat to give the matter his personal attention.
“perhaps it's too young a baby to understand that she isn't going to be drowned,” suggested madge, who was really quite experienced in the matter of babies, having had almost entire charge of millie from her birth.
“why, of course she is,” nan replied, blaming herself for not having thought of this way of solving the problem; “she's hungry and cold still, and she shouldn't smile.”
so little miss millie's downheartedness proved no obstacle after all, and regie soon announced that picture number two was taken. pell mell the children scrambled out of the boat and hurried back to the camera.
“let's see it, rex.”
“is it good?” were their exclamations all at once.
“which is the best?”
“why, i can't tell you yet,” answered regie, out of patience with such ignorance; “don't you know i have to take the plates home before you can tell a thing about them, and develop them?”
“develop?” said jim croxson, not having the remotest idea what the word might mean; “develop your grandmother! it's my opinion if a fellow had taken a picture he'd be glad enough to show it. i don't believe you can take 'em at all, and there's no use in wasting any more time in this tomfoolery. come, croxsies, let's travel home and scare up something to eat.”
jim was a ringleader in that family circle, and the younger croxsons took their departure with sullen faces, which looked as though they had spent more time in the weary activity of scaring up something to eat, than in the more passive and beneficial process of eating. regie stood looking after them.
“i call that pretty mean,” he said, angrily, “and it shows just how much they know about it.”
“mean!” muttered nan, with her little lips pressed tightly together; “i would just like to see that jim croxson come up with.”
nan did not know exactly what was involved in this proceeding of being “come up with,” but she had an idea that it was just about the most dreadful thing that could happen to anybody. harry stood non-committal. of course he thought it was very foolish for the croxsons to go off like that; but he would himself see the thing through before expressing an opinion. if regie said something more was needing to be done, he supposed he must believe him; but it certainly seemed, if a picture was taken, it was taken, and he ought to be able to show something for it.
“say, harry,” asked regie, as they walked home, “isn't there a big dark closet up in the attic?”
“yes, as dark as egypt.”
“well, then, we'll go up there to develop the pictures. i'd like to have you and nan see me do it. is the closet large enough for three?”
“plenty.”
“all right then; and will you carry up a bucket of fresh clear water, while nan helps me to get my bottles and trays together?”
harry's faith began to revive. “rex does seem to know what he's about, after all,” he thought.
coats and hats were punched on to their respective pegs, rather than hung up according to rule, and in a few moments harry, with the bucket of water, and rex and nan, with their mysterious vials and bottles, met in the dark closet. rex lit his ruby lantern, and then solemnly closed the door. poor little millie would undoubtedly have been frightened to death had she been compelled to be present at this gloomy stage of proceedings.
harry and nan sat on the floor, with their legs crossed under them, tailor-fashion, and with their heads pushed very forward so as not to miss anything. regie sat opposite them, pouring liquids out of bottles, measuring them in little glasses, adding water to them, and emptying them again into certain square trays, or dishes, in front of him, “now we're ready to begin,” he said at last, with the air of a little lecturer; “and the first thing to be done is to take the plate out of the holder. this is the one on which i took the first picture; but you see it looks perfectly white, as though there were no picture at all.”
“and is there?” asked nan, incredulously.
“of course there is, and you'll see it with your own eyes in a minute. first, i have to dust it with this camel's hair brush, for the smallest speck would make a little pin hole in the plate; and now watch! i put it in this tray; the stuff in here is called the developer, because in a few moments it will begin to bring the picture out.”
this was always a moment of supreme excitement for regie. you could have heard him panting away through the crack of the closed door. the excitement was contagious, and nan began to pant too. only harry continued to breathe quite regularly.
“there it comes, there it comes!” regie cried exultingly. “there's the boat, see! and there you are, nan, and there! the croxsons are coming out;” this in a regretful sort of tone, as though he half repented having included such a disagreeable crowd in the picture at all.
mute with wonder, harry and nan looked on. to accomplish such a result in such a mysterious way raised regie in their eyes to the level of an actual magician. yes, there was the whole picture before them. they could distinguish it quite distinctly, even by the dim lantern light, only everything was reversed; faces were black and coats were white.
“that is the reason they call this a negative,” rex explained; “i think it means, not what it ought to be, because when this plate is dry, and we lay a piece of sensitised paper against it and put it in the sun, the print that comes off on the paper is called a positive; that is, we have a proof, a picture, as it ought to be.”
“what do you do now?” asked nan, in an awed whisper.
“why, now i take it out of the developer and plunge it up and down several times in this bucket ol water, to wash the developer off, and now i put it in this other tray; there's a solution of soda in here.”
“solution of soda?” thought harry. “dear me! regie does know a lot for a boy of his age.”
“what does the soda do?” he asked.
“it eats something off the plate, i think,” regie answered, somewhat vaguely; “something i believe that ought to come off. and now i wash it thoroughly again, and now i put it in this third tray, which has a solution of alum in it. the alum gives the plate a good colour. now another good washing and it is finished.” all this required much more time than it takes to write about it. “as soon as the plate dries we can print a proof from it,” rex farther explained, “that is, if the sun stays out. would you like to see me do the other one?”
“like to see you!” said nan, in a tone as though she wondered if regie could possibly think for one moment that anything could at all compare with just this very thing that they were doing.
