Chapter Nine

Claymore The Reformed

On a snow-covered hillside beyond the town limits, Candy and Jonathan were looking excited as they stood with the captain admiring a lush, perfectly formed tree in a snowy collection of other trees. They'd dragged their sledge all the way out to take home just the right tree.

"It's the best tree I've ever seen in my whole life," Jonathan declared breathlessly. "Better than any of Great-Uncle Claymore's. Can we get it, Captain?"

"Of course, lad. There's no one to stop us." Daniel nodded.

"Captain Gregg," Candy asked. "Wouldn't it be terrible if there wasn't any Christmas to celebrate?"

"Yes…" Daniel replied. "It would be like a long, long night without a guiding star to steer us by. I feel sorry for people like your Uncle Claymore who eschews the season because they hate to spend money and share a little cheer. It wouldn't hurt him to share a little of his ill-gotten gains."

"Bah humbug." Jonathan nodded his understanding.

"Mother said that Uncle Claymore's always been a bit of a Scrooge." Candy shrugged. "She said he just can't help it."

She frowned. "Captain, what's a Scrooge?"

Daniel shook his head as he assessed their chosen tree. "A scrooge is someone who hates to spend money, especially around Christmastime. It's from a Christmas story by a man named Charles Dickens. I met him last year, in London. A very fine writer."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds like Great-Uncle Claymore, all right." Candy smiled. "He would rather there was no Christmas."

"We can only hope he'll turn over a new leaf just for the holiday season." Daniel shrugged.

"Don't count on it!" Jonathan shook his head. "If he ever catches me catching something on his property he makes me pay for it. And if I don't have any money he tells me to throw it back."

"Slugger is the only thing he's ever given us for free." Candy frowned. "I guess that counts for something. And we're not going to throw him back. Not if his parents can't be found."

"But Slugger wasn't his to give away in the first place," her brother pointed out. "His mother must be looking for him."

Candy's face fell. "I know, but I wish we could keep Slugger for good."

Her brother shrugged. "Uncle Claymore wants to give him to the Orphanage if we don't find the baby's mother. He's so mean. That wouldn't be fair."

"Whatever we think, we must be grateful he pays your mother a wage," Daniel acknowledged as he walked behind the tree to begin chopping it down. "It keeps you all while I'm away at sea. You forget he was my cousin before he was your uncle. Somewhere deep inside him, he has a heart, though he likes to think he hides it from everyone."

Nosing through the snow on the hunt for anything worth chasing, Scruffy stopped and looked up, growling suddenly. He pointed with one paw to the far side of the field.

At the same moment, Claymore came running into the field, flapping his hands in agitation. "Cousin Daniel Gregg!" he ordered. "Chop not one more time!"

The children turned to him, remembering their mother's instructions to show him their best manners for her sake.

"Hello, Great-Uncle Claymore," they said in unison.

"Merry Christmas," Jonathan added.

Scruffy growled his displeasure, but he obeyed his young master's quick command to be silent. He sneezed his distaste instead. But he kept an eye out for any tempting trouser leg that might still come too close to his muzzle.

"Bah, humbug," Claymore grumbled, not looking at any of them.

"Hello, Claymore," Daniel stepped from behind the tree to greet him. "What are you doing this far from your beloved office? You might catch a chill being outside in the snow."

"I'm guarding what's mine," Claymore replied with malicious glee. "That tree is on my property. I felt you three the moment you stepped onto my land. I came out because I just knew you were up to no good. I felt someone was trying to steal from me."

"Don't tell me you own this hill, now, too?" Daniel asked incredulously. "By my estimate, you must own almost half the town."

"The more things I collect the happier I am and the fatter my bank balance becomes," Claymore replied stiffly. "I foreclosed on the mortgage last week," he declared proudly. "Old man Hislop's widow couldn't keep up with the payments. If you want that tree it will cost you three pieces of silver."

"That's a whole month's rent," Candy declared hotly.

"It's highway robbery," Jonathan added stoutly.

"Couldn't you spare even one tree for your only great-niece and nephew?" Candy demanded to know. "After all, we're family."

"That's the trouble with family," Claymore grouched. "They've always got their hand out," he complained, extending his hand, palm upwards toward Daniel.

The captain, not wishing to hear any more complaints, reached into his pocket to extract the required coins. He put them one at a time, into Claymore's not unwilling hand. "Here's your money, you tight-fisted, stingy, money-grubbing, penny-pinching—"

"Tut, tut, tut, tut," Claymore cut in. "Remember I can still have you all thrown in gaol for trespassing! Christmas or not!"

He pocketed the money before turning on his heel and descending the hill toward the town and his office. The children and their dog looked after him with indignation written large in their expressions.

"How can anyone be so mean?!" Candy demanded to know.

"He doesn't need your money," Jonathan pointed out.

"Well, we're not going to allow Claymore's parsimony to spoil our Christmas, are we?" Daniel counselled. "Now remember, not a word to your mother about this unpleasantness. It will only upset her. Promise?"

"Yes, sir," Jonathan responded.

"I hope she gets home early today," Candy added.

"So do I," Jonathan agreed. "Then Christmas will begin…"

"Yes," Daniel replied warmly. "Christmas begins when your mother comes home."

He returned to chopping down the tree. Carollers approached them in single file, wending their way home. Each singer was carrying a gaily-wrapped Christmas present. They were singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' as they passed by.

Daniel stopped his chopping to listen to them, pushing back the cap on his head. "I think it's going to be a very Merry Christmas…"

※※※※※

Once they'd towed the tree all the way home on their sledge, Captain Gregg and the children managed to get it into the parlour and set it up in the corner by the window. All three stood back to admire their handiwork, well satisfied with their morning's work.

"I think it'll do very nicely." Daniel nodded. "But the branches look a little bare. What do you think, children?"

"Martha gave us a dish of cranberries and some popcorn to string up," Candy replied. "We can do that while we're waiting for Mother to come home."

"An excellent idea," Daniel approved. "Speaking of Martha, her Christmas fare smells delicious. I think I'll just go and have a word with her about what we're having for dinner…" He hurried out of the room, leaving the children to their preparations.

In the warmly fragrant kitchen of Gull Cottage, Martha was preparing a Christmas pudding. She moved over to the oven to peek in on several fat pies bubbling temptingly. She smiled with satisfaction as she took out the tray and placed it on the kitchen island.

The captain appeared in the doorway, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "Martha, what glorious mouth-watering aromas." He moved closer, reaching around her to help himself to a fresh mince pie, tossing the hot treat from palm to palm. "I can't wait for the feast!"

Martha smiled at him with deep satisfaction. "Oh, I like cooking for a man. Women and children are often such delicate feeders. I wish you were here more often."

"I'll tell you something," Daniel replied regretfully. "The kitchen delights at the Inn don't hold a candle to yours. The shipboard food is heartier."

"Poor man…" Martha frowned at him. "Oh, it's a shame you have to stay there. But I suppose it can't be helped."

"Well, as much as it pains me to admit it, I can hardly reside under this roof until Carolyn and I are married."

"Have you set the date yet?" Martha fussed with her arrangements.

"No…" Daniel paused as he studied his hot pie, a sudden thought assailing him. "How do you think she'd feel about Christmas Day?"

"Tomorrow?" Martha blinked in shock, then smiled. "Why I couldn't possibly be ready," she teased, following his lead.

"You couldn't?" Daniel pondered, pursing his lips in mock thought. "Well, then, when could you be ready?"

"Well, New Year's would suit me fine," Martha assured him with a laugh. "I could be ready by then if everyone pitches in and helps out."

"Well, that was going to be my second suggestion." Daniel chuckled. "But my beloved would be most annoyed if I went ahead and arranged anything without her knowledge. I know she will wish for her parents to attend our nuptials."

"Then you both will have to wait until the roads become passable again." Martha shrugged. "You'll just have to make up for the delay by coming to dine with us every night. And I won't take no for an answer."

"That I can promise…" Daniel leaned in close to soundly kiss her flushed cheek, as he swiped another mince pie, adroitly avoiding her half-hearted swat at his trespass.

"Go on with you!" She chased him from her domain, waving her hands.

Daniel left, chuckling, as he consumed his pilfered prizes with gusto.

Across the foyer, in the parlour, the children were busy with Christmas festive fare. Candy was stringing dried cranberries while Jonathan worked with a large bowl of popcorn. Scruffy was doing his part by snapping up anything that fell his way.

"You two certainly are busy." The captain smiled at them as he returned to the room. Finishing his second pie, he bent down to help himself to a handful of popcorn.

"Hey, no fair eating the ornaments," Jonathan chided him.

"Wait until you see what I've brought home for you all." The captain crossed the room to retrieve his seabag from where he'd hidden it behind the alcove curtain. He opened it to carefully remove the wrapped gifts he'd purchased in foreign ports. It had been a novel experience to purchase gifts for the children.

Candy and Jonathan got up to follow him, trying to see around him. Their intense curiosity was alive in both their faces. Daniel carried the pile of gifts back into the living room, kneeling down to place them beneath the tree.

He didn't look up as he said, "I'm getting ready to hang some chains of cranberries and popcorn on the tree any moment now…"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Jonathan saluted him smartly before both children quickly returned to their tasks. Scruffy remained on alert for any more treats that might come his way.

"Scruffy…" Jonathan warned the dog severely. "If you don't stop, Saint Nicholas isn't going to bring you a big, fat, juicy bone!"

The dog barked before he left the popcorn and went to curl up beneath the tree, his head on his paws. He sighed dramatically before closing his eyes.

"When the baby wakes up, can he have some popcorn too?" Jonathan asked, busy with his work.

"Absolutely not," Daniel replied. "He'll have to content himself with lashings of milk and a loving family."

"He's a darling, isn't he?" Candy sighed, tying off her chains of cranberries.

"He certainly is." Daniel nodded.

"I just thought of something terrible," Candy exclaimed. "The baby won't get anything from Saint Nicholas because he won't know where he lives."

"Of course, he will," Daniel reassured her.

"How can he?" Jonathan demanded to know. "He doesn't even know he's here."

Daniel winked. "I think you'll find that Saint Nick knows everything." He tapped a knowing forefinger against the side of his nose.

"Well, if he doesn't, I'll share my presents with him," Candy offered.

"So will I," Jonathan added, then his face fell. "Unless I get a birch switch."

Daniel sat back on his heels to look at him sympathetically. "That sounds like a boy with a guilty conscience."

"Well… I keep remembering the things I did that I wish I hadn't done. Like when I accidentally broke my slate at school and blamed it on Jimmy Perkins."

He looked up; his face stricken. "I really did apologise soon afterwards. Since then, I've tried to be good… honest."

"It's good that you apologised." Daniel fought to keep an understanding smile from his lips. "You must make a resolution not to do any of them again."

"But how will Saint Nicholas know I'm not going to do them again?" Jonathan worried.

"Leave a note by the chimney," his sister offered helpfully. "It always worked for me, when I wasn't sure about what Saint Nick would bring me."

Daniel stood up to look at them both. "If you could ask Saint Nicholas for one special thing this Christmas, what would it be?"

"To let us keep the baby," Candy replied.

"Yeah, 'cause he's like family now," Jonathan added.

"That's a lovely thought…" Captain Gregg smiled at them. It was a sweet idea, but surely it was completely impossible.

※※※※※

Claymore hunched over his desk, scanning his figures again. He enjoyed doing it for the satisfaction it gave him. He puffed contentedly on his long-stemmed clay pipe, wreathing himself in a cloud of spicy smoke.

Outside, the carollers walked up to stand at the office window, looking in as they sang, 'Deck The Halls…'

"Listen to them, Uncle. They sing so beautifully…" Carolyn sat on her stool listening, her eyes tender and misty. "I love Christmas…"

Claymore harrumphed as he glared at his ledger. "Infernal caterwauling!" He jumped up from his desk, waving his pipe. "They're making my head ache. You go and give them a ha'penny and tell them to go away! We've still got a lot of work to do before you go home."

Carolyn turned to him. "Oh, Uncle, they don't want your money."

"Oh, they want something from me. Everybody does," Claymore grumbled, looking briefly non-plussed. "It's always been that way."

"Oh, Uncle, they only want to bring you the greetings of the season."

"I don't want greetings. I want to be left alone!" Claymore recovered enough to wave his hand at the carolers. "Now, go away! Go away!"

"Uncle," Carolyn said softly. "Christmas will come whether you want it or not."

"Outrageous! Bah, humbug! There should be a law against it! In fact, I might bring that up at the next council meeting." He leaned over to make a note to himself.

"Oh, Uncle, have a heart…" Carolyn begged.

The sound of the carollers faded into the distance. The wind started to rise, whistling around the building like a lost soul.

"Uncle, it's getting late…" Carolyn got down from her stool to look out the window anxiously. "I have things to do and the storm's only going to get worse. Do you think it would… be all right if I went home now?"

"Ooohhh…" Claymore sighed as he pulled out his pocket watch and snapped it open. "You were four and a half minutes late this morning and you promised me fifteen minutes extra minutes. That makes nineteen and a half minutes in all."

"Very well. I'll work an hour extra on the day after Christmas," Carolyn offered generously. "Surely you can be happy with that?"

"A whole hour?" Claymore queried, his eyes glittering. "Without complaint?"

"Yes, Uncle…"

"Mmmm…" Claymore muttered dubiously.

"Please, Uncle…"

"Oh, very well, go ahead. But mind you, Friday, one whole hour. And I'll be watching the clock to make sure you're on time and you don't leave early."

"Thank you, Uncle…" Carolyn bent to kiss his cheek.

Claymore flinched back as before, looking cross. "Don't make a habit of it. I detest making such extravagant allowances, even for family."

He shook his head, deeply worried about his sudden burst of generosity. "And see some sense and take that baby to the Orphanage. He'll only be a burden to you."

"I can't do that. If no one comes forward to claim him then Daniel and I will raise him." Carolyn hurried to put her work away. "I wish you'd change your mind about dining with us, Uncle. I hate to think of you all alone tonight…"

"I want to be alone," her uncle scoffed. "I enjoy being alone. Why does no one understand that? I'm going to have a nice, cosy evening eating gruel and adding up my bank accounts. That is my reward for a year of hard toil and graft."

The office door opened and Daniel entered in a flurry of snowflakes. He took off his sea cap, brushing snow from the shoulders of his winter cape.

"Hello, dear." He smiled warmly at Carolyn.

"Oh, it's you." Claymore scowled at him, disliking his annoying air of good humour and bonhomie.

"Merry Christmas, Claymore," Daniel greeted him heartily.

"What's merry about it?" Claymore demanded to know.

"Well, certainly not you," Daniel told him. "I'm pleased to see you have not changed any, Cousin, since I've been away at sea."

He turned to Carolyn. "I'm afraid I'm a little early, my dear. But I couldn't stay away a moment longer. I have missed you and the children were worried about the storm."

"Oh, that's all right," Carolyn reassured him. She indicated Claymore. "He's letting me off early."

"Early?" Daniel looked stunned.

"Yes, ten minutes. He's being very sweet about it."

"Ten minutes," Daniel marvelled. "That's some kind of record, isn't it? Thank you, Claymore. You may become a human being, after all."

Claymore looked offended. "I'm perfectly satisfied with the way I am, Cousin! Why doesn't anyone understand that? Christmas is not for me!"

"Well, if you change your mind, please come out to the house. We'd love to have you," Carolyn reassured him. She went to the coat rack to pick up her coat and bonnet.

"Yes, it'll do you good," Daniel encouraged him for Carolyn's sake. "Man does not live by gruel alone."

He turned to Carolyn, helping her with her coat. "I've hired a sleigh. I know you have errands you need to run," he told her softly. I will not allow you to walk."

"Wonderful!" Carolyn replied warmly. "You think of everything."

She turned to look up at him, her love evident in her wide green eyes. Daniel took her small hand between hers, carrying it to his lips, all the while studying the sweet curve of her mouth with desire.

"You're a pair of fools, that's what you are," Claymore grumbled, watching their loving connection sourly. "Squandering money right and left, hiring sleighs, taking in orphans, gorging on roast goose…"

Carolyn shook her head as she turned to the mirror to pull on her bonnet, tying the ribbons neatly beneath her chin. "Oh, I'm afraid it's only mutton this year."

"Marvellous," Daniel approved. "Next year Martha shall stuff the fattest goose in New England."

"Ha! That will be yourself." Claymore smirked, stabbing his feather quill at his cousin.

Daniel laughed good-naturedly as he opened the door for Carolyn to go before him. "And a very Merry Christmas to you." He gave Claymore a small, ironic bow.

"Oh, bah—" Claymore began.

"Yes, I know," Daniel looked back at him. "Bah humbug…" He shut the door before Claymore could think of a suitable reply.

※※※※※

The evening was dark and cold by the time Daniel finally drove Carolyn home in their hired sleigh. They hurried inside, laughing together as they brushed snow from their clothing.

"You're home, you're home!" The children came tumbling down the stairs, dressed again in their night clothes beneath warm dressing gowns.

"We asked Martha if we could stay up to wait for you," Candy confided.

"The Captain said Christmas doesn't begin until you're here." Jonathan nodded.

Martha appeared from the kitchen. "I didn't think it would hurt. The baby was still awake, anyway. I've just given him his bottle and put him down in his crib."

"The captain took us up the hill and we cut down just the best tree!" Jonathan's eyes shone with pride.

"I can see that." Carolyn looked into the living room where flickering candles, and the fire, glowed cheerily. "That is a very fine tree."

"You go on up and get changed, my dear," Daniel instructed. "I'll go out to the sleigh and bring in your purchases."

"Thank you…" Carolyn smiled at him, allowing the children to take her hands and draw her up the stairs.

※※※※※

Claymore worked until his eyes felt gritty and tired. He stretched, easing the pain in the small of his back and the crick in his neck. He pulled the green eyeshade from his head and tossed it down, getting up to stretch again before blowing out the single candle he used to illuminate his desk.

Safe and alone in his bedroom, he made ready for bed. In his nightshirt, cap and robe, he sat at his desk, writing in his open ledger, ecstatically sipping from a bowl of hot gruel while adding up fresh columns of figures. Every once in a while he would purr and break into off-key humming.

"Ninety-seven thousand…" He dipped his feather pen into the ink well and kept writing. "Ninety-eight thousand, ninety-nine thousand, one hundred thousand dollars…Let me say that again! One hundred thousand dollars! I am the richest man in the world!" He waved his pen with glee.

"Hee, hee, hee! One-hundred and one thousand, one hundred and two thousand, one hundred and three thousand – what a delightful Christmas – One-hundred and four thousand, one hundred and five thousand…what could possibly be more fun than this?! Oh, I love money!"

He leaned over the bowl to eat another spoonful of gruel. He froze, thinking he heard an unexpected sound. He looked around the shadowed bedroom.

"Who's there?" he demanded to know, closing his ledger and leaning on it protectively. "Show yourself! What do you want?"

"I've given you up, Claymore…" His own voice echoed in the room. But he hadn't spoken.

"Who… who are you?" he quavered. He jumped up from his chair, looking about fearfully. "Where are you? Why are you here?"

"I'm the small voice you used to hear inside you when you were young and carefree…" the voice replied eerily. "When people mattered to you…"

"Used to hear inside me? But I still hear you…" Claymore trembled as he sat down on the side of his bed, looking all around. "Maybe I don't listen as often as I should…"

"Not anymore," the voice denied. "I'm the ghost of the conscience you used to have…"

"The ghost of the conscience I used to have? That's a long name, but I still have you!" Claymore started to panic. "I haven't lost you…"

"But you have…" the voice argued. "So long ago now even I can't remember the date or time or place..."

"No! Don't say that!" Claymore quailed. "I've been good! Very good! Why, just yesterday, I saved a baby and I've given my niece the rest of the afternoon off. They even invited me out to dinner at their house. I could have gone! I still can! They would be so happy to see me!"

"And yet, here you sit, counting your money like a miser and thinking it gives you comfort. It will not keep you warm at night. Money will not give you sweet dreams. You're a sorry and lost cause, Claymore…"

"No, no, no, no…" Claymore jumped up, hurrying to his desk and opening his ledger to point at the neat rows of figures. "Look, look, I'm loaded. One hundred thousand dollars, Conscience. I could give it all away if I wanted to…"

"Count your ill-gotten gains and eat your grubby gruel. This evening you sent away the last two persons on earth who care what happens to your sorry, lost soul..."

"Oh, no…" Claymore's face fell into misery. "Don't say that! Carolyn will be back on Friday. She promised. She always keeps her promises. She's a very good woman. And I can help her with Slugger. I can make over some monies to him for her to raise the baby. How much do you think I should give?"

"It makes no difference. You're alone, Claymore…" the voice said, starting to fade away. "You'll always be alone, now…"

"No…" Claymore clutched his ledger to his chest. "No, I won't! You'll see! I'll prove you wrong!"

"Alone…al-oo-ne…alooonee…aloooone…"

"No, come back, Conscience!" Claymore twisted from side to side in desperation, looking stricken. "Come back! I promise I'll be very good from now on! Please don't leave me alone with me!"

※※※※※