14. What Melchisedec Heard and Saw

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　On this very afternoon, while Sara was out, a strange thinghappened in the attic. Only Melchisedec saw and heard it; and hewas so much alarmed and mystified that he scuttled back to hishole and hid there, and really quaked and trembled as he peepedout furtively and with great caution to watch what was going on.The attic had been very still all the day after Sara had left itin the early morning. The stillness had only been broken by thepattering of the rain upon the slates and the skylight.Melchisedec had, in fact, found it rather dull; and when therain ceased to patter and perfect silence reigned, he decided tocome out and reconnoiter, though experience taught him that Sarawould not return for some time. He had been rambling andsniffing about, and had just found a totally unexpected andunexplained crumb left from his last meal, when his attention wasattracted by a sound on the roof. He stopped to listen with apalpitating heart. The sound suggested that something was movingon the roof. It was approaching the skylight; it reached theskylight. The skylight was being mysteriously opened. A darkface peered into the attic; then another face appeared behind it,and both looked in with signs of caution and interest. Two menwere outside on the roof, and were making silent preparations toenter through the skylight itself. One was Ram Dass and theother was a young man who was the Indian gentleman's secretary;but of course Melchisedec did not know this. He only knew thatthe men were invading the silence and privacy of the attic; andas the one with the dark face let himself down through theaperture with such lightness and dexterity that he did not makethe slightest sound, Melchisedec turned tail and fledprecipitately back to his hole. He was frightened to death. Hehad ceased to be timid with Sara, and knew she would never throwanything but crumbs, and would never make any sound other thanthe soft, low, coaxing whistling; but strange men were dangerousthings to remain near. He lay close and flat near the entranceof his home, just managing to peep through the crack with abright, alarmed eye. How much he understood of the talk he heardI am not in the least able to say; but, even if he had understoodit all, he would probably have remained greatly mystified.The secretary, who was light and young, slipped through theskylight as noiselessly as Ram Dass had done; and he caught alast glimpse of Melchisedec's vanishing tail."Was that a rat?" he asked Ram Dass in a whisper."Yes; a rat, Sahib," answered Ram Dass, also whispering. "Thereare many in the walls.""Ugh!" exclaimed the young man. "It is a wonder the child isnot terrified of them."Ram Dass made a gesture with his hands. He also smiledrespectfully. He was in this place as the intimate exponent ofSara, though she had only spoken to him once."The child is the little friend of all things, Sahib," heanswered. "She is not as other children. I see her when shedoes not see me. I slip across the slates and look at her manynights to see that she is safe. I watch her from my window whenshe does not know I am near. She stands on the table there andlooks out at the sky as if it spoke to her. The sparrows come ather call. The rat she has fed and tamed in her loneliness. Thepoor slave of the house comes to her for comfort. There is alittle child who comes to her in secret; there is one older whoworships her and would listen to her forever if she might. ThisI have seen when I have crept across the roof. By the mistressof the house--who is an evil woman--she is treated like a pariah;but she has the bearing of a child who is of the blood of kings!""You seem to know a great deal about her," the secretary said."All her life each day I know," answered Ram Dass. "Her goingout I know, and her coming in; her sadness and her poor joys; hercoldness and her hunger. I know when she is alone untilmidnight, learning from her books; I know when her secret friendssteal to her and she is happier--as children can be, even in themidst of poverty--because they come and she may laugh and talkwith them in whispers. If she were ill I should know, and Iwould come and serve her if it might be done.""You are sure no one comes near this place but herself, and thatshe will not return and surprise us. She would be frightened ifshe found us here, and the Sahib Carrisford's plan would bespoiled."Ram Dass crossed noiselessly to the door and stood close to it."None mount here but herself, Sahib," he said. "She has goneout with her basket and may be gone for hours. If I stand here Ican hear any step before it reaches the last flight of thestairs."The secretary took a pencil and a tablet from his breast pocket."Keep your ears open," he said; and he began to walk slowly andsoftly round the miserable little room, making rapid notes on histablet as he looked at things.First he went to the narrow bed. He pressed his hand upon themattress and uttered an exclamation."As hard as a stone," he said. "That will have to be alteredsome day when she is out. A special journey can be made to bringit across. It cannot be done tonight." He lifted the coveringand examined the one thin pillow."Coverlet dingy and worn, blanket thin, sheets patched andragged," he said. "What a bed for a child to sleep in--and in ahouse which calls itself respectable! There has not been a firein that grate for many a day," glancing at the rusty fireplace."Never since I have seen it," said Ram Dass. "The mistress ofthe house is not one who remembers that another than herself maybe cold."The secretary was writing quickly on his tablet. He looked upfrom it as he tore off a leaf and slipped it into his breastpocket."It is a strange way of doing the thing," he said. "Who plannedit?"Ram Dass made a modestly apologetic obeisance."It is true that the first thought was mine, Sahib," he said;"though it was naught but a fancy. I am fond of this child; weare both lonely. It is her way to relate her visions to hersecret friends. Being sad one night, I lay close to the openskylight and listened. The vision she related told what thismiserable room might be if it had comforts in it. She seemed tosee it as she talked, and she grew cheered and warmed as shespoke. Then she came to this fancy; and the next day, the Sahibbeing ill and wretched, I told him of the thing to amuse him. Itseemed then but a dream, but it pleased the Sahib. To hear ofthe child's doings gave him entertainment. He became interestedin her and asked questions. At last he began to please himselfwith the thought of making her visions real things.""You think that it can be done while she sleeps? Suppose sheawakened," suggested the secretary; and it was evident thatwhatsoever the plan referred to was, it had caught and pleasedhis fancy as well as the Sahib Carrisford's."I can move as if my feet were of velvet," Ram Dass replied; "andchildren sleep soundly--even the unhappy ones. I could haveentered this room in the night many times, and without causingher to turn upon her pillow. If the other bearer passes to methe things through the window, I can do all and she will notstir. When she awakens she will think a magician has been here."He smiled as if his heart warmed under his white robe, and thesecretary smiled back at him."It will be like a story from the Arabian Nights," he said."Only an Oriental could have planned it. It does not belong toLondon fogs."They did not remain very long, to the great relief ofMelchisedec, who, as he probably did not comprehend theirconversation, felt their movements and whispers ominous. Theyoung secretary seemed interested in everything. He wrote downthings about the floor, the fireplace, the broken footstool, theold table, the walls--which last he touched with his hand againand again, seeming much pleased when he found that a number ofold nails had been driven in various places."You can hang things on them," he said.Ram Dass smiled mysteriously."Yesterday, when she was out," he said, "I entered, bringingwith me small, sharp nails which can be pressed into the wallwithout blows from a hammer. I placed many in the plaster whereI may need them. They are ready."The Indian gentleman's secretary stood still and looked roundhim as he thrust his tablets back into his pocket."I think I have made notes enough; we can go now," he said. "TheSahib Carrisford has a warm heart. It is a thousand pities thathe has not found the lost child.""If he should find her his strength would be restored to him,"said Ram Dass. "His God may lead her to him yet."Then they slipped through the skylight as noiselessly as they hadentered it. And, after he was quite sure they had gone,Melchisedec was greatly relieved, and in the course of a fewminutes felt it safe to emerge from his hole again and scuffleabout in the hope that even such alarming human beings as thesemight have chanced to carry crumbs in their pockets and drop oneor two of them.