The Spanish Chest | Page 5

Win was seventeen and had never been
able to play as other boys did. Probably all his life would be different,
yet he was so plucky and brave over his limitations.
"There's the Lydia down in the harbor," exclaimed Frances. "My, didn't
she wiggle around last night!"
"Lydia, Lydia, why dost thou tremble? Answer me true. Traveler,
traveler, I'll not dissemble, 'Tis but the screw.
Lydia, Lydia, why this commotion? Answer me quick. Traveler,
traveler, 'tis but a notion. You must be sick!"
drawled Win, following the direction of his sister's glance.
"Win, how bright of you!" she exclaimed. "I wish I could think of
things like that. But, Mother, mayn't we go out and take that little train
wherever it's going?"
"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Mrs. Thayne. "Take care of Fran, Roger,
and don't get separated. You might notice any attractive places offering
lodgings. We don't want to stay in this hotel all winter and the sooner

we are settled the better."
"Come along, Fran," exclaimed Roger. "That infant train is getting a
move on."
The two tore impetuously from the sitting-room. "Such energy!" Mrs.
Thayne remarked with a sigh. "Will you lie down here, Win?"
"No, I think I'll write a bit," replied her son. "I'm not so done up as you
are, Mother."
"Why Roger wasn't ill after the strange combination of food he ate at
Winchester last evening is a miracle," remarked Mrs. Thayne. "Were
you planning to write to Father?"
"I will," replied her son. "Mother, do go and rest. You look like the
latter end of a wasted life. But I hope the kids will light on some
lodgings. I've had enough of hotels. Nothing on earth is so deadly dull
and so deadly respectable as a first-class English hotel."
"Why, of course it is respectable," said Mrs. Thayne, looking rather
puzzled.
"Thunder, yes! But it's so fearfully proper! That head-waiter
down-stairs, with his side-whiskers and his velvet tread and his
confidential voice--why, when he came to take my order, I wanted to
pull his hair or do something to turn him into a human being."
Mrs. Thayne smiled. Much as she loved Win, she did not always
understand him. Shut out from active sports, Win had early taken
refuge in the world of books and his quick perceptions were often those
of a mature mind.
When his mother had gone into her room, Win settled himself by the
west window overlooking the bay where Castle Elizabeth rose on its
rock in the middle distance. Win looked at it approvingly, promising
himself later the fun of finding out its history and present use. Just now,
he would devote himself to getting the family journal up to date for

Father, on duty with the Philadelphia, somewhere near Constantinople.
It was to be on the same side of the Atlantic that the Thaynes had come
to England and a slight attack of bronchitis on Win's part had resulted
in this additional trip. Jersey was reported to possess a mild climate as
well as good schools where Roger and Frances might have new and
probably interesting experiences. Win himself was not equal to school
routine, but there would doubtless be some tutor available to give him
an hour or two every day, a pleasant and easy task for some young man,
for Win was always eager to study when health permitted.
Deep in his heart was the ever-present regret that he could not enter
Annapolis nor follow in the footsteps of his father, but if an elder
brother had any influence, Roger was going into the naval service. At
present, Roger showed no inclination to such a future, and was but
mildly interested in his father's career, but Captain Thayne and Win
shared an unspoken hope that a change would come with the passing
years.
For some time after finishing his letter, Win sat with eyes on Castle
Elizabeth, idly speculating about the coming winter. This old-world
island, with its differing customs and ancient traditions seemed a place
where most interesting things might happen, a land of romance and
fairy gold, offering possibilities of strange adventure. Just because Win
was debarred from most boyish fun, his mind turned eagerly to deeds
of daring. Visions of pirates, smugglers, and buried hoards often
danced through his brain, and the least suggestion of any mystery was
enough to excite his keen interest. That hoary old castle on its island
proved a source of many romantic ideas to Win, who presently fell into
a day-dream.
The sun set in crimson splendor behind the castle towers and Win's
reverie changed to genuine slumber from which he was roused by the
reappearance of Mrs. Thayne.
"I'm sorry I waked you," she said. "I didn't notice that you were
asleep."
"Why, I didn't know I