Further Chronicles of Avonlea | Page 6

she ran up to the garret for some
summer savory. When she came back the kitchen door had blown open
and Fatima had vanished.
Ismay and I were frantic. We ran about the garden and through the
out-houses, and the woods behind the house, like wild creatures, calling
Fatima, but in vain. Then Ismay sat down on the front doorsteps and
cried.
"She has got out and she'll catch her death of cold and Aunt Cynthia
will never forgive us."
"I'm going for Max," I declared. So I did, through the spruce woods and
over the field as fast as my feet could carry me, thanking my stars that
there was a Max to go to in such a predicament.
Max came over and we had another search, but without result. Days
passed, but we did not find Fatima. I would certainly have gone crazy

had it not been for Max. He was worth his weight in gold during the
awful week that followed. We did not dare advertise, lest Aunt Cynthia
should see it; but we inquired far and wide for a white Persian cat with
a blue spot on its tail, and offered a reward for it; but nobody had seen
it, although people kept coming to the house, night and day, with every
kind of a cat in baskets, wanting to know if it was the one we had lost.
"We shall never see Fatima again," I said hopelessly to Max and Ismay
one afternoon. I had just turned away an old woman with a big, yellow
tommy which she insisted must be ours--"cause it kem to our place,
mem, a-yowling fearful, mem, and it don't belong to nobody not down
Grafton way, mem."
"I'm afraid you won't," said Max. "She must have perished from
exposure long ere this."
"Aunt Cynthia will never forgive us," said Ismay, dismally. "I had a
presentiment of trouble the moment that cat came to this house."
We had never heard of this presentiment before, but Ismay is good at
having presentiments--after things happen.
"What shall we do?" I demanded, helplessly. "Max, can't you find some
way out of this scrape for us?"
"Advertise in the Charlottetown papers for a white Persian cat,"
suggested Max. "Some one may have one for sale. If so, you must buy
it, and palm it off on your good Aunt as Fatima. She's very
short-sighted, so it will be quite possible."
"But Fatima has a blue spot on her tail," I said.
"You must advertise for a cat with a blue spot on its tail," said Max.
"It will cost a pretty penny," said Ismay dolefully. "Fatima was valued
at one hundred dollars."
"We must take the money we have been saving for our new furs," I said
sorrowfully. "There is no other way out of it. It will cost us a good deal
more if we lose Aunt Cynthia's favor. She is quite capable of believing
that we have made away with Fatima deliberately and with malice
aforethought."
So we advertised. Max went to town and had the notice inserted in the
most important daily. We asked any one who had a white Persian cat,
with a blue spot on the tip of its tail, to dispose of, to communicate with
M. I., care of the Enterprise.
We really did not have much hope that anything would come of it, so

we were surprised and delighted over the letter Max brought home
from town four days later. It was a type-written screed from Halifax
stating that the writer had for sale a white Persian cat answering to our
description. The price was a hundred and ten dollars, and, if M. I. cared
to go to Halifax and inspect the animal, it would be found at 110 Hollis
Street, by inquiring for "Persian."
"Temper your joy, my friends," said Ismay, gloomily. "The cat may not
suit. The blue spot may be too big or too small or not in the right place.
I consistently refuse to believe that any good thing can come out of this
deplorable affair."
Just at this moment there was a knock at the door and I hurried out. The
postmaster's boy was there with a telegram. I tore it open, glanced at it,
and dashed back into the room.
"What is it now?" cried Ismay, beholding my face.
I held out the telegram. It was from Aunt Cynthia. She had wired us to
send Fatima to Halifax by express immediately.
For the first time Max did not seem ready to rush into the breach with a
suggestion. It was I who spoke first.
"Max," I said, imploringly, "you'll see us through this, won't you?
Neither Ismay nor I can rush off to Halifax at once. You must go
to-morrow morning. Go right to