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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Hero of Romance
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Harold Copping
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38160]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HERO OF ROMANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=6DAPAAAAQAAJ
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          A HERO OF ROMANCE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Perhaps you don't know who I am?" (_Page_ 155.)]
+
+_A Hero of Romance_.]                            [_Frontispiece_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          A HERO OF ROMANCE
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+                            RICHARD MARSH
+
+   _Author of "The Datchel Diamonds," "The Crime and the Criminal_"
+                             _etc., etc_.
+
+
+
+
+                    ILLUSTRATED BY HAROLD COPPING
+
+
+
+
+                                LONDON
+
+                       WARD, LOCK & CO. LIMITED
+
+                        NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                               Contents
+
+
+   CHAP.
+
+       I Punishment at Mecklemburg House.
+
+      II Tutor Baiting.
+
+     III At Mother Huffham's.
+
+      IV A Little Drive.
+
+       V An Evening at Washington Villa.
+
+      VI Afterwards.
+
+     VII The Return of the Wanderer.
+
+    VIII Preparing for Flight.
+
+      IX The Start.
+
+       X Another Little Drive.
+
+      XI The Original Badger.
+
+     XII A "Doss" House.
+
+    XIII In Petersham Park.
+
+     XIV In Trouble.
+
+      XV Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.
+
+     XVI The Captain's Room.
+
+    XVII Two Men and a Boy.
+
+   XVIII The Boat-train.
+
+     XIX To Jersey with a Thief.
+
+      XX Exit Captain Tom.
+
+     XXI The Disadvantages of not Being Able to Speak French.
+
+    XXII The End of the Journey.
+
+   XXIII The Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter I
+
+                   PUNISHMENT AT MECKLEMBURG HOUSE
+
+
+It was about as miserable an afternoon as one could wish to see. May
+is the poet's month, but there was nothing of poetry about it then.
+True, it was early in the month, but February never boasted weather of
+more unmitigated misery. At half-past two it was so dark in the
+schoolroom of Mecklemburg House that one could with difficulty see to
+read. Outside a cold drizzling rain was falling, a shrieking east wind
+was rattling the windows in their frames, and a sullen haze was hiding
+the leaden sky. As unsatisfactory a specimen of the English spring as
+one could very well desire.
+
+To make things better, it was half-holiday. Not that it much mattered
+to the young gentleman who was seated in the schoolroom; it was no
+half-holiday to him. A rather tall lad, some fourteen years of age,
+broad and strongly built. This was Bertie Bailey.
+
+Master Bertie Bailey was kept in; and the outrage this was to his
+feelings was altogether too deep for words. To keep him in!--no wonder
+the heavens frowned at such a crime!
+
+Master Bertie Bailey was seated at a desk very much the worse for
+wear; a long desk, divided into separate compartments, which were
+intended to accommodate about a dozen boys. He had his arms upon the
+desk, his face rested on his hands, and he was staring into vacancy
+with an air of tragic gloom.
+
+At the raised desk which stood in front of him before the window was
+seated Mr. Till. Mr. Till's general bearing and demeanour was not much
+more jovial than Master Bertie Bailey's; he was the tyrant usher who
+had kept the youthful victim in. It was with a certain grim pleasure
+that Bertie realized that Mr. Till's enjoyment of the keeping-in was
+perhaps not much more than his own.
+
+Mr. Till had a newspaper in his hand, and had apparently read it
+through, advertisements and all. He looked over the top of it at
+Bertie.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better get on with those lines?" he asked.
+
+Bertie had a hundred lines of _Paradise Lost_ to copy out. He paid no
+attention to the inquiry; he did not even give a sign that he was
+aware he had been spoken to, but continued to sit with his eyes fixed
+on nothing, with the same air of mysterious gloom.
+
+"How many have you done?" Mr. Till came down to see. There was a torn
+copy of Milton's poems lying unopened beside Bertie on the desk; in
+front of him a slate which was quite clean, and no visible signs of a
+slate pencil. Mr. Till took up the slate and carefully examined it for
+anything in the shape of lines.
+
+"So you haven't begun?--why haven't you begun?" No answer. "Do you
+hear me? why haven't you begun?"
+
+Without troubling himself to alter in any way his picturesque posture,
+Bertie made reply,--
+
+"I haven't got a slate pencil."
+
+"You haven't got a slate pencil? Do you mean to tell me you've sat
+there for a whole hour without asking for a slate pencil? I'll soon
+get you one."
+
+Mr. Till went to his desk and produced a piece about as long as his
+little finger, placing it in front of Bertie. Bertie eyed it from a
+corner of his eye.
+
+"It isn't long enough."
+
+"Don't tell me; take your arms off the desk and begin those lines at
+once."
+
+Bertie very leisurely took his arms off the desk, and delicately
+lifted the piece of slate pencil.
+
+"It wants sharpening," he said. He began to look for his knife,
+standing up to facilitate the search. He hunted in all his pockets,
+turning out the contents of each upon the desk; finally, from the
+labyrinthine depths of some mysterious depository in the lining of his
+waistcoat, he produced the ghost of an ancient pocket-knife. As though
+they were fragile treasures of the most priceless kind, he carefully
+replaced the contents of his pockets. Then, at his ease, he commenced
+to give an artistic point to his two-inch piece of slate pencil. Mr.
+Till, who had taken up a position in front of the window with his
+hands under his coat tails, watched the proceedings with anything but
+a gratified countenance.
+
+"That will do," he grimly remarked, when Bertie had considerably
+reduced the original size of his piece of pencil by attempting to
+produce a point of needlelike fineness. Bertie wiped his knife upon
+his coat-sleeve, removed the pencil dust with his pocket-handkerchief,
+and commenced to write. Before he had got half-way through the first
+line a catastrophe occurred.
+
+"I've broken the point," he observed, looking up at Mr. Till with
+innocence in his eyes.
+
+"I tell you what it is," said Mr. Till, "if you don't let me have
+those lines in less than no time I'll double them. Do you think I'm
+going to stop here all the afternoon?"
+
+"You needn't stop," suggested Bertie, looking at his broken pencil.
+
+"I daresay!" snorted Mr. Till. The last time Bertie had been left
+alone in the schoolroom on the occasion of his being kept in, he had
+perpetrated atrocities which had made Mr. Fletcher's hair stand up on
+end. Mr. Fletcher was the head-master. Orders had been given that
+whenever Bertie was punished, somebody was to stay in with him. "Now,
+none of your nonsense; you go on with those lines."
+
+Bertie bent his head with a studious air. A hideous scratching noise
+arose from the slate. Mr. Till clapped his hands to his ears.
+
+"Stop that noise!"
+
+"If you please, sir, I think this pencil scratches," Bertie said.
+Considering that he was holding the pencil perpendicularly, the
+circumstance was not surprising.
+
+"Take my advice, Bailey, and do those lines." Advancing with an
+inflamed countenance, Mr. Till stood over the offending pupil.
+Resuming his studious posture Bertie recommenced to write. He wrote
+two lines, not too quickly, nor by any means too well, but still he
+wrote them. In the middle of the third line another catastrophe
+happened.
+
+"Please, sir, I've broken the pencil right in two." It was quite
+unnecessary for him to say so, the fact was self-evident, though with
+so small a piece it had required no slight exertion of strength and
+some dexterous manipulation to accomplish the feat. The answer was a
+box on the ears.
+
+"What did you do that for?" asked Bertie, rising from his seat, and
+rubbing the injured portion with his hand.
+
+Now it was distinctly understood that Mecklemburg House Collegiate
+School was conducted on the principle of no corporal punishment. It
+was a prominent line in the prospectus. "_Under no circumstances is
+corporal punishment administered_." As a rule the principle was
+consistently carried out to its legitimate conclusion, not with the
+completest satisfaction to every one concerned. Yet Mr. Fletcher, one
+of the most longsuffering of men, and by no means the strictest
+disciplinarian conceivable, had been more than once roused into
+administering short and sharp justice upon refractory youth. But what
+was excusable in Mr. Fletcher was not to be dreamed of in the
+philosophy of anybody else. For an assistant-master to strike a pupil
+was a crime; and Mr. Till knew it, and Master Bertie Bailey knew it
+too.
+
+"What did you do that for?" repeated Bertie.
+
+Mr. Till was crimson. He was not a hasty tempered man, but to-day
+Master Bertie Bailey had been a burden greater than he could bear. Yet
+he had very literally made a false stroke, and Bertie was just the
+young gentleman to make the most of it.
+
+"If I were to tell Mr. Fletcher, he'd turn you off," said Bertie. "He
+turned Mr. Knox off for hitting Harry Goddard."
+
+Harry Goddard's only relation was a maiden aunt, and this maiden aunt
+had peculiar opinions. In her opinion for anybody to lay a punitory
+hand upon her nephew was to commit an act tantamount to sacrilege.
+Harry had had a little difference with Emmett minor, and had borne
+away the blushing honours of a bloody nose and a black eye with
+considerable _sang-froid_; but when Mr. Knox resented his filling his
+best hat with half-melted snow by presenting him with two or three
+smart taps upon a particular portion of his frame, Harry wrote home to
+his aunt to complain of the indignity he had endured. The result was
+that the ancient spinster at once removed the outraged youth from the
+sanguinary precincts of Mecklemburg House, and that Mr. Fletcher
+dismissed the offending usher.
+
+As Mr. Till stood eyeing his refractory pupil, all this came forcibly
+to his mind. He knew something more than Bertie did; he knew that when
+Mr. Fletcher, smarting at the loss of a remunerative pupil, had made
+short work of his unfortunate assistant, he had also taken advantage
+of the occasion to call Mr. Till into his magisterial presence, and to
+then and there inform him, that should he at any time lay his hand
+upon a pupil, under any provocation of any kind whatever, the result
+would be that Mr. Knox's case would be taken as a precedent, and he
+would be instantaneously dismissed.
+
+And now he had struck Bertie, and here was Bertie threatening to
+inform his employer of what he had done.
+
+"If you don't let me off these lines," said Bertie, pursuing his
+advantage, "I'll tell Mr. Fletcher as soon as he comes home, you see
+if I don't."
+
+Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was not a scholastic establishment
+of any particular eminence; indeed, whatever eminence it possessed was
+of an unsavoury kind. Nor was the position of its assistant-master at
+all an enviable one. There was the senior assistant, Mr. Till, and
+there was the junior, Mr. Shane. Mr. Till received £30 a year, and Mr.
+Shane, a meek, melancholy youth of about seventeen, received sixteen.
+Nor could the duties of either of these gentlemen be considered light.
+But if the pay was small and the work large, the intellectual
+qualifications required were by no means of an unreasonable kind.
+Establishments of the Mecklemburg House type are fading fast away.
+English private schools are improving every day. Mr. Till, conscious
+of his deficiencies, was only too well aware that if he lost his
+present situation, another would be hard to find. So, in the face of
+Bertie's threat, he temporized.
+
+"I didn't mean to hit you! You shouldn't exasperate me!"
+
+Bertie looked him up and down. If ever there was a young gentleman who
+needed the guidance of a strong hand, Bertie was he. He was not a
+naturally bad boy,--few boys are,--but he hated work, and he scorned
+authority. All means were justifiable which enabled him to shirk the
+one and defy the other. He was just one of those boys who might become
+bad if he was not brought to realize the difference between good and
+evil, right and wrong. And it would need sharp discipline to bring him
+to such knowledge.
+
+He had a supreme contempt for Mr. Till. All the boys had. The only
+person they despised more was Mr. Shane. It was the natural result of
+the system pursued at Mecklemburg House that the masters were looked
+upon by their pupils as quite unworthy their serious attention.
+
+Bertie had had about a dozen impositions inflicted on him even within
+the last days. He had not done one of them. He never did do them. None
+of the boys ever did do impositions set them by anybody but Mr.
+Fletcher. They did not by any means make a point of doing his.
+
+"You will do me fifty lines," Mr. Till would say to half a dozen boys
+half a dozen times over in the course of a single morning. He spoke to
+the wind; no one ever did them, no one would have been so much
+surprised as Mr. Till if they had been done.
+
+On the present occasion Mr. Fletcher had gone to town on business, and
+Mr. Till had been left in supreme authority. Bailey had signalised the
+occasion by behaving in a manner so outrageous that, if any semblance
+of authority was to be kept at all, it was altogether impossible to
+let him go scot free. As it was a half-holiday, Mr. Till had announced
+his unalterable resolve that Bertie should copy out a hundred lines of
+_Paradise Lost_, and that he should not leave the schoolroom till he
+had written them.
+
+The result so far had not been satisfactory. He had been in the
+schoolroom considerably over an hour; he had written not quite three
+lines, and here he was telling Mr. Till that if he did not let him off
+entirely he would turn the tables on his master, and make matters
+unpleasant for him. It looked as though Bertie would win the game.
+
+Having taken the tutor's mental measure, he thrust his hands into his
+trousers pockets, and coolly seated himself upon the desk. Then he
+made the following observation,--
+
+"I tell you what it is, old Till, I don't care a snap for you."
+
+Mr. Till simply glared. He realized, not for the first time, that the
+pupil was too much for the master. Bertie continued,--
+
+"My father always pays regularly in advance. If I wrote home and told
+him that you'd hit me, for nothing"--Bertie paused and fixed his stony
+gaze on Mr. Till--"he'd take me home at once, and then what would
+Fletcher say?" Bertie paused again, and pointed his thumb over his
+left shoulder. "He'd say, 'Walk it'!"
+
+This was one way of putting it. Though Mr. Bailey was by no means such
+a foolish person as his son suggested. He was very much unlike Harry
+Goddard's maiden aunt. Had Bertie written home any such letter of
+complaint--which, by the way, he was far too wise to have dreamed of
+doing--the consequences would in all probability have been the worse
+for him. The father knew his son too well to be caught with chaff.
+Unfortunately, Mr. Till did not know this; he had Mr. Knox's fate
+before his eyes.
+
+"You'd better let me off these lines," pursued the inexorable Bertie;
+"you'd better, you know."
+
+"You're an impudent young----" But Bertie interrupted him.
+
+"Now don't call me names, or I'll tell Fletcher. He only said the
+other day that all his pupils were to be treated like young
+gentlemen."
+
+"Young gentlemen!" snorted Mr. Till with scorn.
+
+"Yes, young gentlemen. And don't you say we're not young gentlemen,
+because Mecklemburg House Collegiate School is an establishment for
+young gentlemen." And Bertie grinned. "You'd better let me off these
+lines, you know."
+
+"You know I never hurt you; you shouldn't exasperate me; you're the
+most exasperating boy I ever knew; there's absolutely no bearing with
+your insolence! You'd try the patience of a saint."
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if I was deaf for a week." He rubbed the
+injured part reflectively. "I've heard Fletcher say it's dangerous to
+hit a fellow on the ear. You'd better let me off those lines, you
+know."
+
+Mr. Till, fidgeting about the room, suddenly burst into eloquence. "I
+wonder if it's any use appealing to your better nature? They say boys
+have a better nature, though I never remember to have seen much of it.
+What pleasure do you find in making my life unbearable? What have I
+ever done to you that you should try to drive me mad? Are you
+naturally cruel? My sole aim is for your future welfare! Your sole aim
+is for my ruin!"
+
+Bertie continued to rub his ear.
+
+"Bailey, if I let you off these lines will you promise to try to give
+me less cause to punish you?"
+
+"You can't help letting me off them anyhow," said Bertie.
+
+"Can't I? I suppose, young gentleman, you think you're getting the
+best of me?"
+
+"I know I am," said Bertie.
+
+"Oh, you know you are! Then let me do my best to relieve you of that
+delusion. Shall I tell you what you are doing? You're doing your best
+to sow the seeds of a shameful manhood and a wasted life; if you don't
+take care you'll reap the harvest by-and-by! It isn't only that you're
+refusing to avail yourself of opportunities of education, you're doing
+yourself much greater harm than that. You think you're getting the
+best of me; but shall I tell you what's getting the best of you?--a
+mean, cruel, cowardly spirit, which will be to you a sterner master
+than ever I have been. You think yourself brave because you jeer and
+mock at me, and flout all my commands! Why, my boy, were I better
+circumstanced, and free to act upon my own discretion, you would
+tremble in your shoes! The very fact of your permitting yourself to
+threaten me, on account of punishment which you know was perfectly
+well deserved, shows what sort of boy you are!"
+
+Bertie's only comment was, "You had better let me off those lines."
+
+"I will let you off the lines!"
+
+Bertie sprang to his feet, and began to put slate and book away with
+abundance of clatter.
+
+"Stay one moment--leave those things alone! It is not the punishment
+which degrades a man, Bailey; it is the thing of which he has been
+guilty. I cannot degrade you; it is yourself you are degrading. Take
+my advice, turn over a new leaf, learn not to take advantage of a man
+whose only offence is that he does his best to do you good; don't
+think yourself brave because you venture to attack where defence is
+impossible; and, above all, don't pride yourself on taking your pigs
+to a bad market. You are so foolish as to think yourself clever
+because you throw away all your best chances, and get absolutely worse
+than nothing in return. Bailey, get your Bible, and look for a verse
+which runs something like this, 'Cast your bread upon the waters, and
+you shall find it after many days.' Now you can go."
+
+And Bertie went; and, being in the safe neighbourhood of the door, he
+put his fingers to his nose; by which Mr. Till knew, not for the first
+time, that he had spoken in vain.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter II
+
+                            TUTOR BAITING
+
+
+There were twenty-seven boys at Mecklemburg House; and even this small
+number bade fair to decrease. Last term there had been thirty-three;
+the term before there had been forty. Within quite recent years
+considerably over a hundred boys had occupied the draughty dormitories
+of the great old red-brick house.
+
+But the glory was departing. It is odd how little our fathers and our
+grandfathers in general knew or cared about the science of education.
+Boys were pitchforked into schools which had absolutely nothing to
+recommend them except a flourishing prospectus; schools in which
+nothing was taught, in which the physique of the lads was neglected,
+and in which their moral nature was treated as a thing which had no
+existence. A large number of "schoolmasters" had no more idea of true
+education than they had of flying. They were speculators pure and
+simple, and they treated their boys as goods out of which they were to
+screw as much money as they possibly could, and in the shortest
+possible space of time.
+
+Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was a case in point. It had been a
+school ever since the first of the Georges; and it is, perhaps, not
+too much to say, that out of the large number of boys who had been
+educated beneath its roof, not one of them had received a wholesome
+education. Yet it had always been a paying property. More than one of
+its principals had retired with a comfortable competency. Certainly
+the number of its pupils had never stood at such a low ebb as at the
+time of which we tell. Why the number should be so uncomfortably low
+was a mystery to its present principal, Beauclerk Fletcher. The place
+had belonged to his father, and his father had always found it bring
+something more than daily bread. But even daily bread was beginning to
+fail with Beauclerk Fletcher. Twenty-seven pupils at such a place as
+Mecklemburg House! and the majority of them upon "reduced terms"! Mr.
+Fletcher, never the most enterprising of men, was beginning to be
+overwhelmed beneath an avalanche of debt, and to feel that the fight
+was beyond his strength.
+
+A great, old, rambling red-brick house, about equi-distant from
+Cobham, Byfleet, Weybridge--all towns in Surrey--lying in about the
+middle of the irregular square which those four towns form, the house
+carried the story of its decaying glories upon its countenance. Those
+Georgian houses were solid structures, and the mere fabric was in
+about as good a condition as it had ever been! but in the exterior of
+the building the change was sadly for the worse. Many of the rooms
+were unoccupied, panes were broken in the windows, curtains were
+wanting, the windows looked as though they were seldom or never
+cleaned. The whole place looked as though it were neglected, which
+indeed it was. Slates were off the roof, waste water pipes hung loose
+and rattled in every passing breeze. As to the paved courtyard in
+front, grass and weeds and moss almost hid the original stones. Mr.
+Fletcher was only too conscious of the story all this told; but to put
+things shipshape and neat, and to keep them so, required far more
+money than he had to spend; so he only groaned at each new evidence of
+ruin and decay.
+
+The internal arrangements, the domestic economy, the whole system of
+education, everything in connection with Mecklemburg House was in the
+same state of decrepitude and age--worn-out traditions rather than
+living things. And Mr. Fletcher was very far from being the man to
+breathe life into the dead bones and bid them live. The struggle was
+beyond his strength.
+
+There is no creature in God's world sharper than the average boy, no
+one quicker to understand the strength of the hand which holds him.
+The youngest pupil at Mecklemburg House was perfectly aware that the
+school was a "duffing" school, that Mr. Fletcher was a "duffing"
+principal, and that everything about the place was "duffing"
+altogether. Only let a boy have this opinion about his school, and, so
+far as any benefit is concerned which he is likely to derive from his
+sojourn there, he might almost as profitably be transported to the
+Cannibal Islands.
+
+On the half-holiday on which our story opens, the pupils of
+Mecklemburg House were disporting themselves in what was called the
+playroom. Formerly, in its prosperous days, the room had been used as
+a second schoolroom, the one at present used for that purpose being
+not nearly large enough to contain the pupils. But those days were
+gone; at present, so far from being overcrowded, the room looked
+empty, and could have with ease accommodated twice the whole number of
+pupils which the school contained. So what was once the schoolroom was
+called the playroom instead.
+
+"Stupid nonsense! keeping a fellow in because it rains!" said Charles
+Griffin, looking through the dirty window at the grimy world without.
+
+"It doesn't rain," declared Dick Ellis. "Call this rain! I say, Mr.
+Shane, can't we go down to the village? I want to get something for
+this cough of mine; it's frightful." And with some difficulty Dick
+managed to produce a sepulchral cough from somewhere about the region
+of his boots.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher says you are not to go out while it rains," answered
+Mr. Shane in his mildest possible manner.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher!" grunted Dick. At Mecklemburg House the grey mare was
+the better horse. If Mr. Fletcher was not an ideal head-master, Mrs.
+Fletcher was emphatically head-mistress.
+
+That half-holiday was a pleasant one for Mr. Shane. It was a rule that
+the boys were never to be left alone. If they were out a master was to
+go with them, if they were in a master was to supervise. So, as Mr.
+Till was engaged with the refractory Bertie, Mr. Shane was in charge
+of the play-room.
+
+In charge, literally, and in terror, too. For it may be maintained
+without the slightest exaggeration, that he was much more afraid of
+the boys than the boys of him. On what principle of selection Mr.
+Fletcher chose his assistant-masters it is difficult to say; but
+whatever else Mr. Shane was, a disciplinarian he certainly was not. He
+was the mildest-mannered young man conceivable, awkward, shy, slight,
+thin, not bad-looking, with a faint, watery smile, which at times gave
+quite a ghastly appearance to his countenance, and a deprecatory
+manner which seemed to say that you had only to let him alone to earn
+his eternal gratitude. But the boys never did let him alone, never. By
+day and night, awake and sleeping, they did their best to make his
+life a continual misery.
+
+"If we can't go out," suggests Griffin, "I vote we have a lark with
+Shane."
+
+Mr. Shane smiled, by no means jovially.
+
+"You mustn't make a noise," he murmured, in that soft, almost
+effeminate voice of his. "Mrs. Fletcher particularly said you were not
+to make a noise."
+
+"Right you are. I say, Shane, you stand against the wall, and let's
+shy things at you." This from Griffin.
+
+"You're not to throw things about," said Mr. Shane.
+
+"Then what are we to do, that's what I want to know? It seems to me
+we're not to do anything. I never saw such a beastly hole! I say,
+Shane, let half of us get hold of one of your arms, and the other half
+of the other, and have a pull at you--tug-of-war, you know. We won't
+make a noise."
+
+Mr. Shane did not seem to consider the proposal tempting. He was
+seated in the window, and had a book on his knees which he wanted to
+read. Not a work of light literature, but a German grammar. It was the
+dream of his life to prepare himself for matriculation at the London
+University. This undersized youth was a student born; he had company
+which never failed him, a company of dreams. He dreamed of a future in
+which he was a scholar of renown; and in every moment he could steal
+he strove to bring himself a step nearer to the realization of his
+dreams.
+
+"Get up, Shane!--what's that old book you've got?" Griffin made a
+snatch at the grammar. Mr. Shane jealously put it behind his back.
+Books were in his eyes things too precious to be roughly handled.
+"Come and have a lark; what an old mope you are!" Griffin caught him
+by the arm and swung him round into the room; the boy was as tall, and
+probably as strong as the usher.
+
+The boys were chiefly engaged in doing nothing; nobody ever did do
+much in that establishment. If a boy had a hobby it was laughed out of
+him. Literature was at a discount: _Spring-Heeled Jack_ and _The
+Knights of the Road_ were the sort of works chiefly in request. There
+was no school library, none of the boys seemed to have any books of
+their own. There was neither cricket nor football, no healthy games of
+any sort. Even in the playground the principal occupation was loafing,
+with a little occasional bullying thrown in. Mr. Fletcher was too
+immersed in the troubles of pounds, shillings, and pence to have any
+time to spare for the amusements of the boys. Mr. Till was not
+athletic. Mr. Shane still less so. On fine afternoons the boys were
+packed off with the ushers for a walk, but no more spiritless
+expeditions could be imagined than the walks at Mecklemburg House. The
+result was that the youngsters' life was a wearisome monotony, and
+they were in perpetual mischief for sheer want of anything else to do.
+And mischief so often took the shape of cruelty.
+
+Charlie Griffin swung Mr. Shane out into the middle of the room, and
+immediately one boy after another came stealing up to him.
+
+"I say, Shane, let's play roley-poley with you," said Brown major.
+Some one in the rear threw a hard pellet of brown paper, which struck
+Mr. Shane smartly on the head. He winced.
+
+"Who threw that?" asked Griffin. "I say, Shane, why don't you whack
+him? If I were a man I wouldn't let little boys throw things at me;
+you are a man, aren't you, Shane?" He gave another jerk to the arm
+which he still held.
+
+"You're not to pull my arm, Griffin; you hurt me. I wonder why you
+boys can't leave me alone."
+
+"Go along! not really! We're only having a game, Shane; we're not in
+school, you know. What shall we do with him, you fellows? I vote we
+tie him in a chair, and stick needles and pins into him; he's sure to
+like that--he's such a jolly old fellow, Shane is."
+
+"Why don't you let us go out?" asked Ellis.
+
+"You know Mrs. Fletcher said you were not to go."
+
+"Oh, bother Mrs. Fletcher! what's that got to do with it? We won't
+tell her if you let us go."
+
+Mr. Shane sighed. Had it rested with him he would have been only too
+glad to let them go. Two or three hours of his own company would have
+been like a glimpse of paradise. But there was Mrs. Fletcher; she was
+a lady whose indignation was not to be lightly faced.
+
+"If you won't let us go," said Ellis, "we'll make it hot for you. Do
+you think we're a lot of babies, to be melted by a drop of rain?"
+
+"You know it's no use asking me. Mrs. Fletcher said you were not to go
+out if it rained, and it is raining."
+
+"It's not raining," boldly declared Griffin. "Call this rain! why,
+it's not enough to wet a cat! I never saw such a molly-coddle set-out.
+I go out when I'm at home if it pours cats and dogs; nobody minds; why
+should they? Come on, Shane, let's go, there's a trump; we won't
+sneak, and we'll be back in half a jiff.
+
+"I wish you would let me alone," said Mr. Shane. Somebody snatched his
+book out of his hand. He turned swiftly to recover it, but the captor
+was out of reach. "Give me my book!" he cried. "How dare you take my
+book!"
+
+"Here's a lark! catch hold, Griffin." Mr. Shane, hurrying to recover
+his treasure, saw it dexterously thrown above his reach into the hands
+of Charlie Griffin.
+
+"Give me my book, Griffin!" And he made a rush at Griffin.
+
+"Catch, boys!" Griffin threw the book to some one else before Mr.
+Shane could reach him. It was thrown from one to the other, from end
+to end of the room, probably not being improved by the way in which it
+was handled.
+
+The usher stood in the midst of the laughing boys, a picture of
+helplessness. The grammar had cost him half a crown at a second-hand
+bookstall. Half a crown represented to him a handsome sum. There were
+many claims upon his sixteen pounds a year; he had to think once, and
+twice, and thrice before he spent half a crown upon a book. His books
+were to him his children. In those dreams of future glory his books
+were his constant companions, his open sesame, his royal road to fame;
+with their aid he could do so much, without their aid so little. So
+now and then he ventured to spend half a crown upon a volume which he
+wanted.
+
+The grammar, being badly aimed, fell just in front of him. He made a
+dash at it. Some one gave him a push and he fell sprawling on the
+floor; but he seized the book with his left hand. Griffin, falling on
+it tooth and nail, caught hold of it before he could secure it from
+danger. There was a rush of half a dozen. Every one wanted a finger in
+the pie. The grammar was clutched by half a dozen hands at once. The
+back was rent off, leaves pulled out, the book was torn to shreds. Mr.
+Shane lay on the floor, with the ruins of his grammar in his hands.
+
+Just then Bertie Bailey entered the room, victorious from his contest
+with Mr. Till. A shout of welcome greeted him.
+
+"Hullo, Bailey! have you done the lines?"
+
+Bertie, a deliberate youth as a rule, took his time to answer. He
+surveyed the scene, then he put his fingers to his nose, repeating the
+gesture with which he had retreated from Mr. Till.
+
+"Catch me at it!--think I'm a silly?" Then he put his hands into his
+pockets, and slouched into the centre of the room. The boys crowded
+round him.
+
+"Did he let you off?" asked Griffin.
+
+"Of course he let me off; I made him: he knew better than to try to
+make me do his lines."
+
+Then he told the story; the boys laughed. The way in which the ushers
+were compelled to stultify themselves was a standing joke at
+Mecklemburg House. That Mr. Till should have been forced to eat his
+own words, and to let insubordination go unpunished, was a humorous
+idea to them.
+
+Mr. Shane still remained upon the floor. He was engaged in gathering
+together the remnants of his grammar. Perhaps a pot of paste, with
+patient manipulation, might restore it yet. He would give himself a
+great deal of labour to avoid the expenditure of another half-crown;
+perhaps he had not another half-crown to spend.
+
+"What's the row?" asked Bertie, seeing Mr. Shane engaged in gathering
+up the fragmentary leaves. They told him.
+
+"I'm going out," said Bailey, "and I should like to see anybody stop
+me. I say, Mr. Shane, I want to go down to the village."
+
+Mr. Shane repeated his stock phrase.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out while it rained." He had
+collected all the remnants of his grammar, and was rising with them in
+his hand.
+
+"Give me hold!" exclaimed Bertie; and he snatched what was left of the
+book out of the usher's hands.
+
+"Bailey!" cried Mr. Shane.
+
+"Look here, I want to go down to the village. I suppose I may, mayn't
+I?"
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out if it rained," stammered Mr.
+Shane.
+
+"If you don't let me go, I'll burn this rubbish!" Bertie flourished
+the ruined grammar in the tutor's face. Mr. Shane made a dart to
+recover his property; but Bertie was too quick for him, and sprang
+aside beyond his reach. It is not improbable that if it had come to a
+tussle Mr. Shane would have got the worst of it.
+
+"Who's got a match?" asked Bertie. Some one produced half a dozen.
+"Will you let me go?"
+
+"Don't burn it," said Mr. Shane. "It cost me half a crown; I only
+bought it last week."
+
+"Then let me go."
+
+"What'll Mrs. Fletcher say?"
+
+"How's she to know unless you tell her? I'll be back before tea. I
+don't care if it cost you a hundred half-crowns, I'll burn it. Make up
+your mind. Is it going to cost you half a crown to keep me in?"
+
+Bertie struck a match. Mr. Shane attempted to rush forward to put it
+out, but some of the boys held him back. His heart went out to his
+book as though it were a child.
+
+"If I let you go, you promise me to be back within half an hour? I
+don't know what Mrs. Fletcher will say if she should hear of it;--and
+don't get wet."
+
+"I'll promise you fast enough. Mrs. Fletcher won't hear of it; and
+what if she does? She can't eat you. You needn't be afraid of my
+getting wet."
+
+"I shan't let anybody else go."
+
+"Oh yes, you will! You'll let Griffin and Ellis go; you don't think
+I'm going all that way alone?"
+
+"And me!" cried Edgar Wheeler. Pretty nearly all the other boys joined
+him in the cry.
+
+"I am not going to have all you fellows coming with me," announced
+Bertie. "Wheeler can come; but as for the rest of you, you can stay at
+home and go to bed--that's the best place for little chaps like you.
+Now then, Shane, look alive; is it going to cost you half a crown, or
+isn't it?"
+
+Mr. Shane sighed. If ever there was a case of a round peg in a square
+hole, Mr. Shane's position at Mecklemburg House was a case in point.
+The youth, for he was but a youth, was a good youth; he had an
+earnest, honest, practical belief in God; but surely God never
+intended him for an assistant-master. Perhaps in the years to come he
+might drift into the place which had been prepared for him in the
+world, but it was difficult to believe that he was in it now. A
+studious dreamer, who did nothing but dream and study, he would have
+been no more out of his element in a bear garden than in the extremely
+difficult and eminently unsatisfactory position which he was
+supposed--it was veritable supposition--to fill at Mecklemburg House.
+
+"How many of you want to go?"
+
+"There's me,"--Bertie was not the boy to take the bottom seat--"and
+Griffin, and Ellis, and Wheeler, that's all. Now what is the good of
+keeping messing about like this?"
+
+"You're sure you won't be more than half an hour?"
+
+"Oh, sure as sticks."
+
+"And what shall I say to Mrs. Fletcher if she finds out? You're sure
+to lay all the blame on me." Mr. Shane had a prophetic eye.
+
+"Say you thought it didn't rain."
+
+"I don't think it does rain much." Mr. Shane looked out of the window,
+and salved his conscience with the thought. "Well, if you're quite
+sure you won't get wet, and you won't be more than half an
+hour--you--can--go." The latter three words came out, as it were,
+edgeways and with difficulty from the speaker's mouth, as if even he
+found the humiliation of his attitude difficult to swallow.
+
+"Come along, boys!--here's your old book!" Bertie flung the grammar
+into the air, the leaves went flying in all directions, the four boys
+went clattering out of the room with noise enough for twenty, and Mr.
+Shane was left to recover his dignity and collect the scattered volume
+at his leisure.
+
+But Nemesis awaited him. No sooner had the conquering heroes
+disappeared than an urchin, not more than eight or nine years of age,
+catching up one of the precious leaves, exclaimed,--
+
+"Let's tear the thing to pieces!" The speaker was little Willie
+Seymour, Bertie Bailey's cousin. It was his first term at school, but
+he already bade fair to do credit to the system of education pursued
+at Mecklemburg House.
+
+"Right you are, youngster," said Fred Philpotts, an elder boy. "It's a
+burning shame to let them go and keep us in. Let's tear it all to
+pieces."
+
+And they did. There was a sudden raid upon the scattered leaves; at
+the mercy of twenty pairs of mischievous hands, they were soon reduced
+to atoms so minute as to be altogether beyond the hope of any possible
+recovery. Nothing short of a miracle could make those tiny scraps of
+printed paper into a book again. And seeing it was so Mr. Shane leaned
+his head against the window-pane and cried.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter III
+
+                         AT MOTHER HUFFHAM'S
+
+
+It was only when Bailey and his friends were away from the house that
+it occurred to them to consider what it was they had come out for.
+They slunk across the grass-grown courtyard, keeping as close to the
+wall as possible, to avoid the lynx-eyes of Mrs. Fletcher. That lady
+was the only person in Mecklemburg House whose authority was not
+entirely contemned. Let who would be master, she would be mistress;
+and she had a way of impressing that fact upon those around her which
+made it quite impossible for those who came within reach of her
+influence to avoid respecting.
+
+It was truly miserable weather. Any one but a schoolboy would have
+been only too happy to have had a roof of any kind to shelter him, but
+schoolboys are peculiar. It was one of those damp mists which not only
+penetrate through the thickest clothing, and soak one to the skin, but
+which render it difficult to see twenty yards in front of one, even in
+the middle of the day. The day was drawing in; ere long the lamps
+would be lighted; the world was already enshrouded in funeral gloom.
+Not a pleasant afternoon to choose for an expedition to nowhere in
+particular, in quest of nothing at all.
+
+The boys slunk through the sodden mist, hands in their pockets, coat
+collars turned up about their ears, hats rammed down over their eyes,
+looking anything but a cheerful company. Griffin asked a question.
+
+"I say, Bailey, where are you going?"
+
+"To the village."
+
+"What are you going to the village for?" This from Ellis.
+
+"For what I am."
+
+After this short specimen of convivial conversation the four trudged
+on. Alas for their promise to Mr. Shane! The wet was already dripping
+off their hats, and splashings of mud were ascending up the legs of
+their trousers to about the middle of their back. In a minute or two
+Wheeler began again.
+
+"Have you got any money?"
+
+Bertie pulled up short. "Have you?" he asked.
+
+"I've got sevenpence."
+
+"Then lend me half?"
+
+"Lend me a penny? I'll pay you next week; honour bright, I will," said
+Ellis.
+
+Griffin was more concise. "Lend me twopence?" he asked.
+
+Wheeler looked unhappy. It appeared that he was the only capitalist
+among the four, and under the circumstances he did not feel exactly
+proud of the position. Although sevenpence might do very well for one,
+it would not be improved by quartering.
+
+"Yes, I know, I daresay," he grumbled. "You're very fond of borrowing,
+but you're not so fond of paying back again." He trudged on stolidly.
+
+Bailey caught him by the arm. "You don't mean that you're not going to
+lend me anything, after my asking for you to come out with me, and
+all?"
+
+"I'll lend you twopence."
+
+"Twopence! What's twopence?"
+
+"It's all you'll get; you can have it or lump it, I don't care;
+I'm not dead nuts on lending you anything." Wheeler was a little
+wiry-built boy, and when he meant a thing very much indeed he had an
+almost terrier-like habit of snapping his jaws--he snapped them now.
+Bailey trudged by his side with an air of dudgeon; he probably
+reflected that, after all, twopence was better than nothing. But Ellis
+and Griffin had their claims to urge. They apparently did not
+contemplate with pleasure the prospect of tramping to and from the
+village for the sake of the exercise alone. Ellis began,--
+
+"I say, old fellow, you'll lend me a penny, won't you? I'm always game
+for lending you."
+
+"Look here, I tell you what it is, I won't lend you a blessed
+farthing! It's like your cheek to ask me; you owe me ninepence from
+last term."
+
+"But I expect a letter from home in the morning with some money in it.
+I'll pay you the ninepence with threepence interest--I'll pay you
+eighteenpence--you see if I don't. And if you'll lend me a penny now
+I'll give you twopence for it in the morning. Do now, there's a good
+fellow, Wheeler; honour bright, I will."
+
+For answer Wheeler put his finger to his eye and raised the eyelid.
+"See any green in my eye?" he said.
+
+"You're a selfish beast!" replied his friend. And so the four trudged
+on. Then Griffin made his attempt.
+
+"I'll let you have that knife, Wheeler, if you like."
+
+"I don't want the knife."
+
+"You can have it for threepence."
+
+"I don't want it for threepence."
+
+"You offered me fourpence for it yesterday."
+
+"I've changed my mind."
+
+Charlie pondered the matter in his mind. They were about half-way to
+their destination, and already bore a closer resemblance to drowned
+rats than living schoolboys. By the time they had gone there and back
+again, it would be possible to wring the water out of their clothes;
+what Mrs. Fletcher would have to say remained to be seen. After they
+had gone a few yards further, and paddled through about half a dozen
+more puddles, Charlie began again.
+
+"I'll let you have it for twopence."
+
+"I don't want it for twopence."
+
+"It's a good knife." No answer. "It cost a shilling." Still no answer.
+"There's only one blade broken." Still no reply. "And that's only got
+a bit off near the point." Still silence. "It's a jolly good knife."
+Then, with a groan, "I'll let you have it for a penny."
+
+"I wouldn't give you a smack in the eye for it."
+
+After receiving this truly elegant and generous reply, Griffin
+subsided into speechless misery. It is not improbable that, so far as
+he was himself concerned, he began to think that the expedition was a
+failure.
+
+In silence they reached the village. It was not a village of
+portentous magnitude, since it only contained thirteen cottages and
+one shop, the shop being the smallest cottage in the place. The
+only point in its favour was that it was the nearest commercial
+establishment to Mecklemburg House. The proprietor was a Mrs. Huffham,
+an ancient lady, with a very bad temper, and a still worse
+reputation--among the boys--for honesty in the direction of weights
+and measures. It must be conceded that they could have had no worse
+opinion of her than she had of them.
+
+"Them young warmints, if they wants to buy a thing they wants ninety
+ounces to the pound, and if they wants to pay for it, they wants you
+to take eightpence for a shilling--oh, I knows 'em!" So Mrs. Huffham
+declared.
+
+At the door of this emporium parley was held. Ellis suddenly
+remembered something.
+
+"I say, I owe old Mother Huffham two-and-three." So far as the
+gathering mist and the soaking rain enabled one to see, Dick's
+countenance wore a lugubrious expression.
+
+"Well, what of that?"
+
+"Well"--Dick Ellis hesitated--"so long as that brute Stephen isn't
+about the place I don't mind. He called out after me the other day,
+that if I didn't pay he'd take the change out of me some other way."
+
+The Stephen referred to was Mrs. Huffham's grandson, a stalwart young
+fellow of twenty-one or two, who drove the carrier's cart to Kingston
+and back. His ideas on pecuniary obligations were primitive. Having
+learned from experience that it was vain to expect Mr. Fletcher to pay
+his pupils' debts at the village shop, he had an uncomfortable way of
+taking it out of refractory debtors in the shape of personal
+chastisement. Endless disputes had arisen in consequence. Mr. Fletcher
+had on more than one occasion threatened the summary Stephen with the
+terrors of the law; but Stephen had snapped his fingers at Mr.
+Fletcher, advising him to pay his own debts, lest worse things
+happened to him. Then Mr. Fletcher had forbidden Mrs. Huffham to give
+credit to the boys; but Mrs. Huffham was an obstinate old lady, and
+treated the headmaster with no more deference than her grandson.
+Finally, Mr. Fletcher had forbidden the boys to deal with Mrs.
+Huffham; but in spite of his prohibition an active commerce was
+carried on, and on more than one occasion the irate Stephen had been
+moved to violence.
+
+"You should have stopped at home," was Wheeler's not unreasonable
+reply to Dick's confession. "I don't owe her anything. I don't see
+what you wanted to come for, anyhow, if you haven't got any money and
+you owe her two-and-three."
+
+And turning the handle of the rickety door he entered Mrs. Huffham's
+famed establishment. Bailey, rich in the possession of a prospective
+loan of twopence, and Charlie Griffin followed close upon his heels.
+After hesitating for a moment Ellis went in too. To remain shivering
+outside would have been such a lame conclusion to a not otherwise too
+satisfactory expedition, that it seemed to him like the last straw on
+the camel's back. Besides, it was quite on the cards that the
+impetuous Stephen would be engaged in his carrier's work, and be
+pleasantly conspicuous by his absence from home.
+
+The interior of the shop was pitchy dark. The little light
+which remained without declined to penetrate through the small
+lozenge-shaped windowpanes. Mrs. Huffham's lamp was not yet lit, and
+the obscurity was increased by the quantity of goods, of almost every
+description, which crowded to overflowing the tiny shop. No one came.
+
+"Let's nick something," suggested the virtuously minded Griffin. Ellis
+acted on the hint.
+
+"I'm not going there and back for nothing, I can tell you."
+
+On a little shelf at the side of the shop stood certain bottles of
+sweets. Dick reached up to get one down. At that moment Wheeler gave
+him a jerk with his arm. Ellis, catching at the shelf to steady
+himself, brought down shelf, bottles and all, with a crash upon a
+counter.
+
+"Thieves!" cried a voice within. "Thieves!" and Mrs. Huffham came
+clattering into the shop, out of some inner sanctum, with considerable
+haste for one of her mature years. "Thieves!"
+
+For some moments the old lady's eyes could see nothing in the darkness
+of the shop. She stood, half in, half out, peering forward, where the
+boys could just see her dimly in the shadow. They, deeming discretion
+to be the better part of valour, and not knowing what damage they
+might not have done, stood still as mice. Their first impulse was to
+turn and flee, and Griffin was just feeling for the handle of the
+door, preparatory to making a bolt for it, when heavy footsteps were
+heard approaching outside, and the door was flung open with a force
+which all but threw Griffin back upon his friends.
+
+"Hullo!" said a voice; "is anybody in there?"
+
+It was Stephen Huffham. With all their hearts the boys wished they had
+respected authority and listened to Mr. Shane! There was a coolness
+and promptness about Stephen Huffham's method of taking the law into
+his own hands upon emergency which formed the basis of many a tale of
+terror to which they had listened when tucked between the sheets at
+night in bed.
+
+Mr. Huffham waited for no reply to his question, but he laid an iron
+hand upon Griffin's shoulder and dragged him out into the light.
+
+"Come out of that! Oh, it's you, is it?" Charlie was gifted with
+considerable powers of denial, but he found it quite beyond his power
+to deny Mr. Huffham's assertion then. "Oh, there's some more of you,
+are there? How many of you boys are there inside here?"
+
+"They've been a-thieving the things!" came in Mrs. Huffham's shrill
+treble from the back of the shop.
+
+"Oh, they have, have they? We'll soon see about that. Unless I'm
+blinder than I used to be, there's young Ellis over there, with whom
+I've promised to have a word of a sort before to-day. You bring a
+light, granny, and look alive; don't keep these young gentlemen
+waiting, not by no manner of means."
+
+Mrs. Huffham retreated to her parlour, and presently re-appeared with
+a lighted lamp in her hand. This, with great deliberation, for her old
+bones were stiff, and rheumatism forbade anything like undue haste,
+she hung upon a nail, in such a position that its not too powerful
+light shed as great an illumination as possible upon the contents of
+her shop. Far too powerful an illumination to suit the boys, for it
+brought into undue prominence the damage wrought by Ellis and his
+friend. They eyed the ruins, and Mrs. Huffham eyed them, and Mr.
+Stephen Huffham eyed them too. The old lady's feelings at the sight
+were for a moment too deep for words, but Mr. Stephen Huffham soon
+found speech.
+
+"Who did this?" he asked; and there was something in the tone of the
+inquiry which grated on his hearers' ears.
+
+Had Dick Ellis and his friend deliberately planned to do as much
+mischief as possible in the shortest possible space of time, they
+could scarcely have succeeded better. Three or four of the bottles
+were broken to pieces, and in their fall they had fallen on a little
+glass case, the chief pride and ornament of Mrs. Huffham's shop, which
+was divided into compartments, in one of which were cigars, in another
+reels of cotton and hanks of thread, and in a third such trifles as
+packets of hair-pins, pots of pomade, note-paper and envelopes, and a
+variety of articles which might be classified under the generic name
+of "fancy goods." The glass in this case was damaged beyond repair;
+the sweets from the broken bottles had got inside, and had become
+mixed with the cigars, and the paper, and the hair-pins, and the
+pomade, and the rest of the varied contents.
+
+Mr. Stephen Huffman not finding himself favoured with an immediate
+reply to his inquiry, repeated it.
+
+"Who did this? Did you do this?" And he gave Charlie Griffin a shake
+which made him feel as though he were being shaken not only upside
+down, but inside out.
+
+"No-o-o!" said Charlie, as loudly as he was able with Mr. Stephen
+Huffman shaking him as a terrier shakes a rat. "I-I-I didn't!
+Le-e-eave me alone!"
+
+"I'll leave you alone fast enough! I'll leave the lot of you alone
+when I've taken all the skin off your bodies! Did you do this?" And
+Mr. Stephen Huffham transferred his attention to Bailey.
+
+"No!" roared Bertie, before Huffman had time to get him fairly in his
+grasp. Mr. Huffman held him at arm's length, and looked him full in
+the face with an intensity of scrutiny which Bertie by no means
+relished.
+
+"I suppose none of you did do it; nobody ever does do these sort of
+things, so far as I can make out. It was accidental; it always is."
+
+His voice had been so far, if not conciliatory, at least not unduly
+elevated. But suddenly he turned upon Ellis with a roar which was not
+unlike the bellow of a bull. "Did you do it?"
+
+Ellis started as though he had received an electric shock.
+
+"No-o!" he gasped. "It was Wheeler!"
+
+"Oh, it was Wheeler, was it?"
+
+"It wasn't me," said Wheeler.
+
+"Oh, it wasn't you? Who was it, then? That's what I want to know; who
+was it, then?" Mr. Huffham put this question in a tone of voice which
+would have been eminently useful had he been addressing some person a
+couple of miles away, but which in his present situation almost made
+the panes of glass rattle in the windows. "Who was it, then?" And he
+caught hold of Ellis and shook him with such velocity to and fro that
+it was difficult for a moment to distinguish what it was that he was
+shaking.
+
+"It--was--Whe-e-eler!" gasped Ellis, struggling with his breath.
+
+"Now, just you listen to me, you boys!" began Mr. Huffham. (They could
+scarcely avoid listening to him, considering that he spoke in what was
+many degrees above a whisper.) "I'll put it this way, so that we can
+have things fair and square, and know what we're a-doing of. There's a
+pound's damage been done here, so perhaps one of you gentlemen will
+let me have a sovereign. I'm not going to ask who did it; I'm not
+going to ask no questions at all: all I says is, perhaps one of you
+young gentlemen will let me have a sovereign." He stretched out his
+hand as though he expected to receive a sovereign then and there; as
+it happened he stretched it out in the direction of Bertie Bailey.
+
+Bertie looked at the horny, dirt-grimed palm, then up in Mr. Huffham's
+face. A dog-fancier would have said that there was some scarcely
+definable resemblance to the bull-dog in the expression of his eyes.
+"You won't get a sovereign out of me," he said.
+
+"Oh, won't I? we'll see!"
+
+"We will see. I'd nothing to do with it; I don't know who did do it.
+You shouldn't leave the place without a light; who's to see in the
+dark?"
+
+"You let me finish what I've got to say, then you say your say out
+afterwards. What I say is this--there's a pound's worth of damage
+done----"
+
+"There isn't a pound's worth of damage done," said Bertie.
+
+Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder. "You let me finish out my say!
+I say there is a pound's worth of damage done; you can settle who it
+was among you afterwards; and what I say is this, either you pays me
+that pound before you leave this shop or I'll give the whole four of
+you such a flogging as you never had in all your days--I'll skin you
+alive!"
+
+"It won't give me my money your flogging them," wailed Mrs. Huffham
+from behind the counter. "It's my money I wants! Here is all them
+bottles broken, and the case smashed--and it cost me two pound ten,
+and everything inside of it's a-ruined. It's my money I wants!"
+
+"It's what I wants too; so which of you young gents is going to hand
+over that there sovereign?"
+
+"Wheeler's got sevenpence," suggested Griffin.
+
+"Sevenpence! what's sevenpence? It's a pound I want! Which of you is
+going to fork up that there pound?"
+
+"There isn't a pound's worth of damage done," said Bertie; "nothing
+like. If you let us go, we'll get five shillings somehow, and bring it
+you in a week."
+
+"In a week--five shillings! you catch me at it! Why, if I was once to
+let you outside that door, you'd put your fingers to your noses, and
+you'd call out, 'There goes old Huffham! yah--h--h!'" And he gave a
+very fair imitation of the greeting which the sight of him was apt to
+call forth from the very youths in front of him.
+
+"If they was the young gentlemen they calls themselves they'd pay up,
+and not try to rob an old woman what's over seventy year."
+
+"Now then, what's it going to be, your money or your life? That's the
+way to put it, because I'll only just let you off with your life, I'll
+tell you. Look sharp; I want my tea! What's it going to be, your
+money, or rather, my old grandmother's money over there, an old
+woman who finds it a pretty tight fit to keep herself out of the
+workhouse----"
+
+"Yes, that she do," interpolated the grandmother in question.
+
+"Or your life?" He looked in turn from one boy to the other, and
+finally his gaze rested on Bailey.
+
+Bertie met his eyes with a sullen stare. "I tell you I'd nothing to do
+with it," he said.
+
+"And I tell you I don't care that who had to do with it," and Mr.
+Huffham snapped his fingers. "You're that there pack of liars I
+wouldn't believe you on your oath before a judge and jury, not that I
+wouldn't!" and his fingers were snapped again. He and Bailey stood for
+a moment looking into each other's face.
+
+"If you hit me for what I didn't do, I'll do something worth hitting
+for."
+
+"Will you?" Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder, and held him as in
+a vice.
+
+"Don't you hit me!"
+
+Apparently Mrs. Huffham was impressed by something in his manner.
+"Don't you hit 'un hard! now don't you!"
+
+"Won't I? I'll hit him so hard, I'll about do for him, that's about as
+hard as I'll hit him." A look came into Mr. Huffham's face which was
+not nice to see. Bailey never flinched; his hard-set jaw and sullen
+eyes made the resemblance to the bulldog more vivid still. "You pay me
+that pound!"
+
+"I wouldn't if I had it!"
+
+In an instant Mr. Huffham had swung him round, and was raining blows
+with his clenched fist upon the boy's back and shoulders. But he had
+reckoned without his host, if he had supposed the punishment would be
+taken quietly. The boy fought like a cat, and struggled and kicked
+with such unlooked-for vigour that Mr. Huffham, driven against the
+counter and not seeing what he was doing, struck out wildly, knocked
+the lamp off its nail with his fist, and in an instant the boy and the
+man were struggling in the darkness on the floor.
+
+Just then a stentorian voice shouted through the glass window of the
+rickety door,--
+
+"Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!"
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter IV
+
+                            A LITTLE DRIVE
+
+
+Those within the shop had been too much interested in their own
+proceedings to be conscious of a dog-cart, which came tearing through
+the darkening shadows at such a pace that startled pedestrians might
+be excused for thinking that it was a case of a horse running away
+with its driver. But such would have been convinced of their error
+when, in passing Mrs. Huffham's, on hearing Mr. Stephen bellowing with
+what seemed to be the full force of a pair of powerful lungs, the
+vehicle was brought to a standstill as suddenly as a regiment of
+soldiers halt at the word of command. The driver spoke to the horse,--
+
+"Steady! stand still, old girl!" The speaker alighted. Approaching
+Mrs. Huffham's, he stood at the glass-windowed door, observing the
+proceedings within; and when Mr. Stephen, in his blind rage, struck
+the lamp from its place and plunged the scene in darkness, the
+unnoticed looker-on turned the handle of the door and entered the
+shop, shouting, in tones which made themselves audible above the
+din,--
+
+"Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!" And standing on the
+threshold, he repeated his assertion, "Bravo! that's the best plucked
+boy I've seen." He drew a box of matches from his pocket, and striking
+one, he held the flickering flame above his head, so that some little
+light was shed upon what was going on within. "What's this little
+argument?" he asked.
+
+Seeing that Mr. Huffman was still holding Bailey firmly in his grasp,
+"Hold hard, big one," he said; "let the little chap get up. You ought
+to have your little arguments outside; this place isn't above half
+large enough to swing a cat in. Granny, bring a light!"
+
+As the match was just on the point of going out he struck another, and
+entered the shop with it flaming in his hand. Mrs. Huffham's nerves
+were too shaken to allow her to pay that instant attention to the
+new-comer's orders which he seemed to demand.
+
+"Look alive, old lady; bring a light! This old band-box is as dark as
+pitch."
+
+Thus urged, the old lady disappeared, presently reappearing with a
+little table-lamp in her trembling hands.
+
+"Put it somewhere out of reach--if anything is out of reach in this
+dog-hole of a place. I shouldn't be surprised if you had a little
+bonfire with the next lamp that's upset."
+
+Mrs. Huffman placed it on a shelf in the extreme corner of the shop,
+from which post of vantage it did not light the scene quite so
+brilliantly as it might have done. Mr. Stephen and the boy, relaxing a
+moment from the extreme vigour of discussion, availed themselves of
+the opportunity to see what sort of person the stranger might chance
+to be.
+
+He was a man of gigantic stature, probably considerably over six feet
+high, but so broad in proportion that he seemed shorter than he
+actually was. A long waterproof, from which the rain was trickling in
+little streams, reached to his feet; the hood was drawn over his head,
+and under its shadow was seen a face which was excellently adapted to
+the enormous frame. A huge black beard streamed over the stranger's
+breast, and a pair of large black eyes looked out from overhanging
+brows. He was the first to break the silence.
+
+"Well, what is this little argument?" Then, without waiting for an
+answer, he continued, addressing Mr. Huffham, "You're rather a large
+size, don't you think, for that sized boy?"
+
+"Who are you? and what do you want? If there's anything you want to
+buy, perhaps you'll buy it, and take yourself outside."
+
+The stranger put his hand up to his beard, and began pulling it.
+
+"There's nothing I want to buy, not just now." He looked at Bailey.
+"What's he laying it on for?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"That's not bad, considering. What were you laying it on for?" This to
+Huffham.
+
+"I've not finished yet, not by no manner of means; I mean to take
+it out of all the lot of 'em. Call themselves gents! Why, if a
+working-man's son was to behave as they does, he'd get five years
+at a reformatory. I've known it done before today."
+
+"I daresay you have; you look like a man who knew a thing or two. What
+were you laying it on for?"
+
+"What for? why, look here!" And Mr. Huffham pointed to the broken
+bottles and the damaged case.
+
+"And I'm a hard-working woman, I am, sir, and I'm seventy-three this
+next July; and it's hard work I find it to pay my rent: and wherever
+I'm to get the money for them there things, goodness knows, I don't.
+It'll be the workhouse, after all!" Thus Mrs. Huffham lifted up her
+voice and wept.
+
+"And they calls themselves gents, and they comes in here, and takes
+advantage of an old woman, and robs her right and left, and thinks
+they're going to get off scot free; not if I know it this time they
+won't." Mr. Stephen Huffham looked as though he meant it, every word.
+
+"Did you do that?" asked the stranger of Bailey.
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"I don't care who did it; they're that there liars I wouldn't believe
+a word of theirs on oath; they did it between them, and that's quite
+enough for me."
+
+"I suppose one of you did do it?" asked the stranger.
+
+Bailey thrust his hands in his pockets, looking up at the stranger
+with the dogged look in his eyes.
+
+"The place was pitch dark; why didn't they have a light in the place?"
+
+"Because there didn't happen to be a light in the place, is that any
+reason why you should go smashing everything you could lay your hands
+on? Why couldn't you wait for a light? Go on with you! I'll take the
+skin off your back!"
+
+"How much?" asked the stranger, paying no attention to Mr. Stephen's
+eloquence.
+
+"There's a heap of mischief done, heap of mischief!" wailed the old
+lady in the rear.
+
+"How am I to tell all the mischief that's been done? Just look at the
+place; a sovereign wouldn't cover it, no, that it wouldn't."
+
+"There isn't five shillings' worth of harm," said Bertie. "If you were
+to get five shillings, you'd make a profit of half a crown."
+
+The stranger laughed, and Mr. Huffham scowled; the look which he cast
+at Bertie was not exactly a look of love, but the boy met it without
+any sign of flinching.
+
+"I'll be even with you yet, my lad!" Mr. Stephen said.
+
+"If I give you a sovereign you will be even," suggested the stranger.
+
+Mr. Stephen's eyes glistened; and his grandmother, clasping her old
+withered palms together, cast a look of rapture towards the ceiling.
+
+"Oh, deary me! deary me!" she said.
+
+"It's a swindle," muttered Bertie.
+
+"Oh, it's a swindle, is it?" snarled Mr. Stephen. "I'd like to swindle
+you, my fighting cock."
+
+"You couldn't do it," retorted Bertie.
+
+The stranger laughed again. Unbuttoning his waterproof, and in doing
+so distributing a shower of water in his immediate neighbourhood, out
+of his trousers pocket he took a heavy purse, out of the purse he took
+a sovereign, and the sovereign he handed to Mr. Stephen Huffham. Mr.
+Stephen's palm closed on the glittering coin with a certain degree of
+hesitation.
+
+"Now you're quits," said the stranger, "you and the boy."
+
+"Quits!" said Bertie, "it's seventeen-and-sixpence in his pocket!"
+
+Mr. Stephen smiled, not quite pleasantly; he might have been moved to
+speech had not the stranger interrupted him.
+
+"You're pretty large, and that's all you are; if this boy were about
+your size, he'd lay it on to you. I should say you were a considerable
+fine sample of a--coward."
+
+Mr. Stephen held his peace. There was something in the stranger's
+manner and appearance which induced him to think that perhaps he had
+better be content with what he had received. After having paused for a
+second or two, seemingly for some sort of reply from Mr. Huffham, the
+stranger addressed the boys.
+
+"Get out!" They went out, rather with the air of beaten curs. The
+stranger followed them. "Get up into the cart; I'm going to take you
+home to my house to tea." They looked at each other, in doubt as to
+whether he was jesting. "Do you hear? Get up into the cart! You, boy,"
+touching Bailey on the shoulder, "you ride alongside me."
+
+Still they hesitated. It occurred to them that they had already broken
+their engagement with the credulous Mr. Shane, broken it in the most
+satisfactory manner, in each separate particular. They were not only
+wet and muddy, looking somewhat as though they had recently been
+picked out of the gutter, but that half-hour within which they had
+pledged themselves to return had long since gone. But if they
+hesitated, there was no trace of hesitation about the stranger.
+
+"Now then, do you think I want to wait here all night? Tumble up, you
+boy." And fairly lifting Wheeler off his legs, he bore him bodily
+through the air, and planted him at the back of the trap. And not
+Wheeler only, but Griffin and Ellis too. Before those young gentlemen
+had quite realized their position, or the proposal he had made to
+them, they found themselves clinging to each other to prevent
+themselves tumbling out of the back of what was not a very large
+dog-cart. "You're none of you big ones! Catch hold of each other's
+hair or something, and don't fall out; I can't stop to pick up boys.
+Now then, bantam, up you go."
+
+And Bertie, handled in the same undignified fashion, found himself on
+the front seat beside the driver. The stranger, big though he was,
+apparently allowed his size to interfere in no degree with his
+agility. In a twinkling he was seated in his place by Bertie.
+
+"Steady!" he cried. "Look out, you boys!" He caught the reins in his
+hands; the mare knew her master's touch, and in an instant, even
+before the boys had altogether yet quite realized their situation,
+they were dashing through the darkening night.
+
+It was about as cheerless an evening as one could very well select for
+a drive in an open vehicle. The stranger, enveloped in his waterproof,
+his hood in some degree sheltering his face, a waterproof rug drawn
+high above his knees, was more comfortable than the boys. Bailey,
+indeed, had a seat to sit upon and a share of the rug, but his friends
+had neither seat nor shelter.
+
+Perhaps, on the whole, they would have been better off had they been
+walking. The imperfect light and the hasty start rendered it difficult
+for them to have a clear view of their position. The mare--which, had
+it been lighter and they versed in horseflesh, they would have been
+able to recognise as a very tolerable specimen of an American
+trotter--made the pace so hot that they had to cling, if not to each
+other's hair, at least to whatever portion of each other's person they
+could manage to get hold of. Even then it was only by means of a
+series of gymnastic feats that they were able to keep their footing
+and save themselves from being pitched out on to the road.
+
+They had not gone far when Griffin had a disaster.
+
+"I've lost my hat!" he cried. Wind and pace and nervousness combined
+had loosened his headgear, and without staying to bid farewell to his
+head, it disappeared into the night.
+
+The stranger gave utterance to a loud yet musical laugh.
+
+"Never mind your hat! Can't stop for hats! The fresh air will do you
+good, cool your head, my boy!" But this was a point of view which did
+not occur to Griffin; he was rather disposed to wonder what Mr. Shane
+and Mrs. Fletcher would say.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't catch hold of my throat; you'll strangle me,"
+said Wheeler, as the vehicle dashed round a sharp turn in the road,
+and the hatless Griffin made a frantic clutch at his friend to save
+himself from following his hat.
+
+"I--can't--help--it," gasped his friend in reply. "I wish he wouldn't
+go so fast. Oh--h!"
+
+The stranger laughed again.
+
+"Don't tumble out! we can't stop to pick up boys! Hullo! what are you
+up to there?"
+
+The trio in the rear were apparently engaged in a fight for life. They
+were uttering choking ejaculations, and struggling with each other in
+their desperate efforts to preserve their perpendicular. In the course
+of their struggle they lurched against the stranger with such
+unexpected violence that had he not with marvellous rapidity twisted
+round in his seat and caught them with his arm, they would in all
+probability have continued their journey on the road. At the same
+instant, with his disengaged hand he brought the horse, who seemed to
+obey the directions of its master's hand with mechanical accuracy, to
+a sudden halt.
+
+"Now, then, are you all right?"
+
+They were very far from being all right, but were not at that moment
+possessed of breath to tell him so. Had they not lost the power of
+speech they would have joined in a unanimous appeal to him to set them
+down, and let them go anywhere, and do anything, rather than allow
+them to continue any longer at the mercy of his too rapid steed. But
+the stranger seemed to take their involuntary silence for
+acquiescence. Once more they were dashing through the night, and again
+they were hanging on for their bare lives.
+
+"Like driving, youngster?" The question was addressed to Bailey. "Like
+horses? Like a beast that can go? Mary Anne can give a lead to a flash
+of lightning and catch it in two T's."
+
+"Mary Anne" was apparently the steed. At that moment the trio in the
+rear would have believed anything of Mary Anne's powers of speed, but
+Bailey held his peace. The stranger went on.
+
+"I like a drive on a night like this. I like dashing through the wind
+and the darkness and the rain. I like a thing to fire my blood, and
+that's the reason why I like you. That's the reason why I've asked you
+home to tea. What's your name?"
+
+"Bailey, sir."
+
+"I knew a man named Bailey down in Kentucky who was hanged because he
+was too fond of horses--other people's, not his own. Any relation of
+yours?" Bertie disclaimed the soft impeachment.
+
+"I don't think so, sir."
+
+"There's no knowing. Lots of people are hanged without their
+own mothers knowing anything about it, let alone their fathers,
+especially out Kentucky way. A cousin of mine was hanged in Golden
+City, and I shouldn't have known anything about it to this day if
+I hadn't come along and seen his body swinging on a tree. As nice
+a fellow as man need know, six-feet-one-and-three-quarters in his
+stockings--three-quarters of an inch shorter than me. They explained
+to me that they'd hanged him by mistake, which was some consolation
+to me, anyway, though what he thought of it is more than I can say. I
+cut him down, dug a hole seven foot deep, and laid him there to
+sleep; and there he sleeps as sound as though he'd handed in his
+checks upon a feather bed."
+
+Bailey looked up at the speaker. He was not quite sure if he was in
+earnest, and was anything but sure that the little narrative which he
+rolled so glibly off his tongue might not be the instant coinage of
+his brain. But something in the speaker's voice and manner attracted
+him even more than his words; something he would have found it
+difficult to describe.
+
+"Is that true?" he asked.
+
+The stranger looked down at him and laughed.
+
+"Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't." He laughed again. "Wet,
+youngster?"
+
+"I should rather think I am," was Bertie's grim response. All the
+stranger did was to laugh again. Bailey ventured on an inquiry. "Do
+you live far from here?" He was conscious of a certain degree of
+interest as to whether the stranger was driving them to Kentucky; he,
+too, had Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher in his mind's eye. "Shane'll get
+sacked for this, as sure as fate," was his mental observation. He was
+aware that at Mecklemburg House the sins of the pupils not seldom fell
+upon the heads of the assistant-masters.
+
+"Pain's Hill," was the answer to his question. "Ever heard of
+Washington Villa?" Bertie could not say he had.
+
+"I am George Washington Bankes, the proprietor thereof. Yes, and it
+isn't so long ago that if any one had said to me that I should settle
+down as a country gentleman, I should have said, 'There have been
+liars since Ananias, but none quite as big as you.'"
+
+Bailey eyed him from a corner of his eye. His father was a medical
+man, with no inconsiderable country practice. He had seen something of
+country gentlemen, but it occurred to him that a country gentleman in
+any way resembling his new acquaintance he had not yet chanced to see.
+
+"You at the school there?"
+
+Taking it for granted that he referred to Mecklemburg House, Bertie
+confessed that he was.
+
+"Why don't you run away? I would."
+
+Bertie started; he had read of boys running away from school in
+stories of the penny dreadful type, but he had not yet heard of
+country gentlemen suggesting that course of action as a reasonable one
+for the rising generation to pursue.
+
+"Every boy worth his salt ought to run away. I did, and I've never
+done a more sensible thing to this day." In that case one could not
+but wonder for how many sensible things Mr. George Washington Bankes
+had been remarkable in the course of his career. "I've been from China
+to Peru, from the North Pole to the South. I've been round the world
+all sorts of ways; and the chances are that if I hadn't run away from
+school I should never have travelled twenty miles from my old mother's
+door. Why don't you run away?"
+
+Bertie wriggled in his seat and gasped.
+
+"I--I don't know," he said.
+
+"Ah, I'll talk to you about that when I get you home. You're about the
+best plucked lad I've seen, or you wouldn't have stood up in the way
+you did to that great hulking lubber there; and rather than see a lad
+of parts wasting his time at school--but you wait a bit. I'll open
+your eyes, my lad. I'll give you some idea of what a man's life ought
+to be! Books never did me any good, and never will. I say, throw
+books, like physic, to the dogs--a life of adventure's the life for
+me!"
+
+Bertie listened open-eyed and open-mouthed; he began to think he was
+in a waking dream. There was a wildness about his new acquaintance,
+and about his mode of speech, which filled him with a sort of dull,
+startled wonder. There was in the boy, deep-rooted somewhere, that
+half-unconscious longing for things adventurous which the British
+youngster always has. Mr. Bankes struck a chord which filled the boy
+almost with a sense of pain.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!" Mr. Bankes repeated his
+confession of faith, laughing as he did so; and the words, and the
+voice, and the manner, and the laugh, all mixed together, made the
+boy, wet as he was, glow with a sudden warmth. "A life of adventure's
+the life for me!"
+
+The drive was nearly ended, and during the rest of it Mr. Bankes kept
+silence. Wheeler's hat had followed Griffin's, but he had not
+mentioned it; partly because, as he thought, he would receive no
+sympathy and not much attention, and partly because, in his anxiety to
+keep his footing in the trap, and get out of it with his bones whole,
+it would have been a matter of comparative indifference to him if the
+rest of his clothing had followed his hat. But he, too, mistily
+wondered what Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would say.
+
+Fortunately for his peace of mind, and the peace of mind of his two
+friends, the good steed, Mary Anne, brought them safely to the doors
+of Washington Villa. Fond of driving as they were, as a rule, they
+were conscious of a distinct sense of relief when that drive was at an
+end.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter V
+
+                    AN EVENING AT WASHINGTON VILLA
+
+
+Washington Villa appeared, from what one could see in the darkness, to
+be a fairly sized house, standing in its own grounds. Considerable
+stabling was built apart from, but close to the house, and as the trap
+dashed along the little carriage-drive numerous loud-voiced dogs
+announced the fact of an arrival to whomever it might concern. The
+instant the vehicle stopped, the hall door was opened, and a little
+wizened, shrunken man came down the steps. Mr. Bankes threw him the
+reins.
+
+"Jump out, you boys, and tumble into the house. Welcome to Washington
+Villa." Suiting the action to the word, and before his young friends
+had clearly realized the fact of their having arrived at their
+destination, he had risen from his seat, sprung to the ground, and was
+standing on the threshold of the door. The boys were not long in
+following suit.
+
+"Come this way!" Striding on in front of them, through a hall of no
+inconsiderable dimensions, he led them into a room in which a bright
+fire was blazing, and which was warm with light. A pretty servant girl
+made a simultaneous entrance through a door on the other side of the
+room. "Catch hold." Tearing rather than taking off his waterproof and
+hood, he flung them to the maid. "Where are my slippers?" The maid
+produced a pair from the fender, where they had been placed to warm;
+and Mr. Bankes thrust his feet into them, flinging his boots off on to
+the floor. "Tea for five, and a good tea, too, and in about less time
+than it would take me to shoot a snake."
+
+The maid disappeared with a laugh on her face; she was apparently used
+to Mr. Bankes, and to Mr. Bankes' mode of speech. Then, after having
+attended to his own comfort, the host turned his attention to his
+guests.
+
+"Well, you're a nice lot of half-drowned puppies. By right, I ought to
+hang you up in front of the kitchen fire to dry."
+
+His guests shuffled about upon their feet with not quite a graceful
+air. It was true that they looked in about as miserable a condition as
+they very well could do; but considering the circumstances under which
+they had travelled, it was scarcely to be wondered at. Had Mr. Bankes
+travelled in their place, he might have looked like a half-drowned
+puppy too.
+
+"But a wetting will do you good, and as for mud, why, I don't care for
+mud. I've swallowed too much of it in my time to stick at a trifle.
+When I was a boy, I was the dirtiest little blackguard ever seen. Now,
+then, is that tea ready? Come along."
+
+And off he strode into the hall, the boys following sheepishly in the
+rear. Wheeler poked Bailey in the side with his elbow, and Bailey
+poked Griffin, and they each of them poked the other, and they
+grinned. Their feelings were altogether too much for speech. What Mr.
+Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would think and say--but that was a matter on
+which they would not improbably be able to speak more fully later on.
+A more unguestlike-looking set of guests could hardly be conceived.
+Not only were their boots concealed beneath thick layers of mud, but
+they were spattered with mud from head to foot; their hands and faces
+were filthy, and their hair was in a state of untidiness better
+imagined than described. They had their everyday clothes on; their
+trousers were in general too short in the leg, and their coats too
+short in the sleeves; while Griffin was radiant with a mighty patch in
+the seat of his breeches of a totally different material to the
+original cloth. It was fortunate that Mr. Bankes did not stick at
+trifles, or he would never have allowed his newly-discovered guests to
+enter his well-kept residence.
+
+They followed their host into a room on the other side of the hall,
+and the sight they saw almost took their breath away. A table laden
+with more delicacies than they remembered to have seen crowded
+together for a considerable space of time was, especially after the
+fare to which they were accustomed at Mecklemburg House, a spectacle
+calculated at any time to fill them with a satisfaction almost
+amounting to awe. But to come out of such a night to such a prospect!
+To come to feast from worse than famine! The revulsion of feeling was
+considerable, and the aspect of the guests became even more sheepish
+than before.
+
+"Sit down, and pitch in. If you're as hungry as I am, you'll eat the
+table, legs and all."
+
+The boys needed no second invitation. In a very short space of
+time host and guests alike were doing prodigies of execution. The
+nimble-handed servant-maid found it as much as she could do to supply
+their wants. On the details of the feast we need not dwell. It partook
+of the nature of a joke to call that elaborate meal tea. By the time
+it was finished the four young gentlemen had not only ceased to think
+of what Mrs. Fletcher and Mr. Shane might say, but they had altogether
+forgotten the existence of Mecklemburg House Collegiate School; and
+even Charlie Griffin was prepared to declare that he had thoroughly
+enjoyed that nightmare journey from Mrs. Huffham's to the present
+abode of bliss. The meal had been no less to the satisfaction of the
+host than of his guests.
+
+"Done?" They signified by their eloquent looks as much as by their
+speech that they emphatically had. "Then let's go back to the other
+room." And they went.
+
+A peculiarity of this other room was that all the chairs in it
+were arm-chairs; and in four of not the least comfortable of these
+arm-chairs the boys found themselves seated at their ease. Over the
+fire-place, arranged in the fashion of a trophy, were a large number
+of venerable-looking pipes. Taking one of these down, Mr. Bankes
+proceeded to fill it from a tobacco jar which stood in a corner of the
+mantelshelf. Then he lit it, and, planting himself in the centre of
+the hearthrug, right in front of the fire, he thrust his hands into
+his pockets and looked down upon his guests, a huge, black-bearded
+giant, puffing at his pipe.
+
+"Had a good feed?"
+
+They signified that they had.
+
+"Do you know what I brought you here for?"
+
+The food and the warmth combined had brought them into a state of
+exceeding peace, and they were inclined to sleep. Why he had brought
+them there they neither knew nor cared; they were beyond such
+trifling. They had had a good meal, the first for many days, and it
+behoved them to be thankful.
+
+"I'll tell you. I brought you here because I want to get you, the
+whole lot of you, to run away."
+
+His listeners opened their eyes and ears. Bailey had made some
+acquaintance with his host's character before, but his three friends
+stared.
+
+"Every boy worth his salt runs away from school. I did, and it was the
+most sensible thing I ever did in my life."
+
+When Mr. Bankes thus repeated the assertion which he had made to
+Bailey in the trap, his hearers banished sleep and began to wonder.
+
+"What's the use of school? What do you do there? What do you do at
+that tumble-down old red-brick house on the Cobham road? Why, you
+waste your time."
+
+This assertion, if, to a certain extent, true, as it applied to the
+establishment in question, was a random shot as applied to schools in
+general.
+
+"Shall I tell you what I learnt at school? I learnt to hate it, and I
+haven't forgotten that lesson to this day; no, and I shan't till I'm
+packed away with a lot of dirt on top of me. My father," Mr. Bankes
+took his pipe out of his mouth, and pointed his remarks with it as he
+went on, "died of a broken heart, and so should I have done if I
+hadn't cut it short and run away."
+
+No man ever looked less like dying of a broken heart than Mr. Bankes
+did then.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!"
+
+They were the words which had thrilled through Bertie when he had
+heard them in the trap; they thrilled him again as he heard them now,
+and they thrilled his companions too. They stared up at Mr. Bankes as
+though he held them with a spell; nor would that gentleman have made a
+bad study for a wizard.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me! Under foreign skies in distant
+lands, away from the twopenny-halfpenny twaddle of spelling-books and
+sums, seeking fortune and finding it, a man in the midst of men, not a
+finicking idiot among a pack of babies. Why don't you run away? You
+see me? I was at school at Nottingham; I was just turned thirteen: I
+ran away with ninepence-halfpenny in my pocket. I got to London
+somehow; and from London I got abroad, somehow too; and abroad I've
+picked up fortune after fortune, thrown them all away, and picked them
+up again. Now I've had about enough of it, I've made another little
+pile, and this little pile I think I'll keep, at least just yet
+awhile. But what a life it's been! What larks I've had, what days and
+nights, what months and years! Why, when I think of all I've done, and
+of what I might have done, rotted away my life, if it hadn't been for
+that little bolt from school,--why, when I think of that, I never see
+a boy but I long to take him by the scruff of the neck, and sing out,
+'Youngster, why don't you do as I have done, cut away from school, and
+run?'"
+
+Mr. Bankes flung back his head and laughed. But whether he was
+laughing at them, or at his own words, or at his recollections of the
+past, was more than they could say. They looked at each other,
+conscious that their host was not the least part of the afternoon's
+entertainment, and somewhat at a loss as to whether he was drawing the
+long bow, taking them to be younger and more verdant than they were,
+or whether he was seriously advancing an educational system of his
+own.
+
+He startled them by putting a question point-blank to Bailey, one
+which he had put before.
+
+"Why don't you run away?"
+
+"I--I don't know!" stammered Bertie. Then, frankly, as the idea
+occurred to him, "Because I never thought of it."
+
+Mr. Bankes laughed. His constant tendency to laughter, with or without
+apparent reason, seemed to be his not least remarkable characteristic.
+
+"Now you have thought of it, why don't you run away?"
+
+Bailey turned the matter over in his mind.
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+His friends looked at each other, thinking the conversation just a
+trifle queer.
+
+"Why ever should he run away?" asked Griffin.
+
+"And wherever would he run to?" added Wheeler.
+
+Dick Ellis said nothing, but possibly he thought the more. Mr. Bankes
+directed his reply directly at Bailey.
+
+"I'll tell you why you ought to run away; because that's the shortest
+cut into a world into which you will never get by any other road. I'll
+tell you where you ought to run to, out of this little fleabite of an
+island, into the lands of golden dreams and golden possibilities, my
+lad; where men at night lay themselves down poor, and in the morning
+rise up rich."
+
+Mr. Bankes, warming with his theme, began to gesticulate and stamp
+about the room, the boys following him with all their eyes.
+
+"I hate your huggermuggering existence; why should a lad of parts
+huggermugger all his life away? When I saw you stand up to that great
+lout, I said to myself, 'That lad has grit; he's just the very spit of
+what I was when I was just his age; he's too good to be left to muddle
+in this old worn-out country, to waste his time with books and sums
+and trash.' I said to myself, 'I'll lend him a helping hand,' and so I
+will. I'll show you the road, if I do nothing else; and if you don't
+choose to take it, it's yourself's to blame, not me.
+
+"When I was out in Colorado, at Denver City, there was a boy came
+along, just about your age; he came along from away down East. He was
+English; he'd got himself stowed away, and he'd made his way to the
+promised land. He took a spade one day, and he marked out a claim, and
+that boy he worked it, he did, and it turned up trumps; there wasn't
+any dirt to dig, because pretty nearly all that his spade turned up
+was virgin silver. He sold that claim for 10,000 dollars, money down,
+and he went on and prospered. That boy is now a man; he owns, I
+daresay, half a dozen silver mines, and he's so rich,--ah, he's so
+rich he doesn't know how rich he is. Now why shouldn't you have been
+that boy?"
+
+Mr. Bankes paused for a reply, but his listeners furnished none.
+Griffin was on the point of suggesting that Bailey was not that boy
+because he wasn't; but he refrained, thinking that perhaps that was
+not quite the sort of answer that was wanted.
+
+"I knew another boy when I was going up from the coast to Kimberley,
+Griqualand West. Do you boys know where that is?"
+
+This sudden plunge into geographical examination took his guests
+aback; they did not know where Griqualand West was; perhaps they had
+been equally misty as to the whereabouts of Denver City, Colorado.
+
+"It's in South Africa. Ah, that's the way to learn geography, to
+travel about and see the places,--pitch your books into the fire!"
+
+"And is the other place in South Africa?" queried Griffin.
+
+Mr. Bankes gave him a look the like of which he had never received
+from Mr. Fletcher; a look of thunder, as though he would have liked to
+pick him up, then and there, and pitch him after the books into the
+fire.
+
+"Denver City, Colorado, in South Africa?" he roared. "Why, you
+leather-headed noodle, where were you at school? If I were the man who
+taught you, I'd flog you from here to Dublin with a cat-o'-nine-tails,
+rather than I'd let you expose your ignorance like that!"
+
+The sudden advent among them of an explosive bomb might have created a
+little more astonishment than this speech, but not much. Griffin felt
+that he had better abstain from questioning, and let his host run on.
+
+"Denver City is in the United States of America, in the land of the
+stars and bars, as every idiot knows! As I was saying, before that
+young gentleman wrote himself down donkey--and he looks it, every inch
+of him!--as I was saying, when I was going up from the coast to
+Kimberley, there was a boy who used to do odd jobs for me; he hadn't
+sixpenny-worth of clothes upon his back! I lost sight of him; five
+years afterwards I met him again. It was like a tale out of the
+_Arabian Nights_, I tell you! That ragged boy that was, when I saw him
+again five years afterwards, he reckoned to cover what any half-dozen
+men might have put down, and double it afterwards. And look at the
+life he'd led! It's no good my talking about it here, you'd hardly
+believe me if I told you half the things he'd done. Don't you believe
+any of your adventure books. There aren't half the adventures crowded
+into any book which that lad had seen. Yes, a life of adventure was
+the life for him, and he'd had it, too!"
+
+Mr. Bankes returned to his post of vantage in front of the fire. In
+his excitement he had smoked his pipe to premature ashes; he refilled
+and lighted it. Then he addressed himself to Bailey, marking time as
+he went on by beating the palm of his right hand against his left.
+
+"I say, don't let a day be wasted--days lost are not recovered; now's
+your time, and now's your opportunity; don't let the week's end find
+you huggermuggering in that old school. Go out into the world! learn
+to be a man! Try your courage! Put your powers to the test! Search for
+the golden land! Let a life of adventure be the life for you! As for
+you," Mr. Bankes turned with ominous suddenness towards Charlie
+Griffin, "I don't say that to you; what I say to you is this: write
+home to your mother for a good supply of flannel petticoats, and wrap
+yourself up warm, and let your hair grow long, and take care of your
+complexion. You're a beauty boy, one of the sort who didn't ought to
+be trusted out after dark alone, and who's sure to have a fit if he
+sees the moon!"
+
+It is a question if this sudden change of subject made Griffin or his
+friends the more uncomfortable. Thinking that Mr. Bankes intended a
+joke, and that it would be ungrateful not to laugh, Ellis attempted a
+snigger; but a sudden gleam from his host's eyes in his direction
+brought his mirth to an untimely ending.
+
+"What are you laughing at?" asked Mr. Bankes. Ellis kept silence,
+being most unwilling to confess that he did not know. Mr. Bankes
+addressed himself again to Bailey.
+
+"It is you I am advising to do as I did, to try a fall with the world
+and to back yourself to win, not such things as those."
+
+Under this heading he included Bertie's three friends, with an
+eloquent wave of his hand in their direction.
+
+"It wants a boy to make a man, not a farthing sugar stick! You'll have
+cause to bless this evening all your life, and to bless me, too, if
+you take the tip I've given you. Don't you listen to those who talk to
+you about the hardships you will meet. What's life without hardships,
+I should like to know; it's hardships make the man! I'm not advising
+you to wrap yourself up in cotton-wool; leave cotton-wool to
+mutton-headed dummies;" this with a significant glance in the
+direction of Bailey's friends. "Rather I tell you this, you back
+yourself to fight, and fight it out, and fight to win, and win you
+will! Run away to-night, to-morrow, I don't care when, so long as
+it's within the week. There's nothing like striking the iron while
+it's hot, and set the clock a-going which will never stop until it
+strikes the hour of victory won and fortune made! A life of
+adventure's the life for me, and it's the life for you, and the sooner
+you begin it the longer it will last and the sweeter it will be."
+
+There was something in Mr. Bankes' tone and manner, when he chose to
+put it there, which, in the eyes of his present audience, at any rate,
+had all the effect of natural eloquence. His excitement excited them,
+and almost he persuaded them to believe in the reality of his golden
+dreams. Bailey, indeed, sat silent, spellbound. Mr. Bankes, by no
+means a bad judge of character, had not mistaken the metal of which
+the boy was made, and every stroke he struck, struck home. As was not
+unnatural, Mr. Bankes' eloquence had a very much more mixed effect on
+Bailey's friends. Their host gave a sudden turn to their thoughts by
+taking out his watch.
+
+"Eleven o'clock! whew-w-w!" This was a whistle. "They'll think you've
+run away already! Ha! ha! ha! I'm not going to have you boys sleep
+here, so the sooner you go the better. Now then, out you go!"
+
+His guests sprang to their feet as he made a movement as though he
+would turn them out with as much precipitation as he had lifted them
+into the trap. And, indeed, the manner of their departure was not much
+more ceremonious. Before they quite knew what was happening, he had
+hustled them into the hall; the hall-door was open; they were the
+other side of it, and Mr. Bankes, standing on the doorstep, was
+ordering them off his premises.
+
+"Now then, clear out of this! The dogs will be loose in half a second;
+you'd better make tracks before they take it into their heads to try
+their teeth upon your legs."
+
+The door was shut, and they were left standing in the night,
+endeavouring to realize whether their adventure of the night had been
+actual fact, or whether they had only dreamed it.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter VI
+
+                              AFTERWARDS
+
+
+But Wheeler's first observation brought them back to _terra firma_
+with a plunge.
+
+"It's my belief that fellow's a howling madman."
+
+They cast a look over their shoulder to see if the fellow thus
+referred to was within hearing of this courteous speech, and then,
+with one accord, they made for the entrance to Washington Villa, not
+pausing till they stood clear of its precincts on the road outside.
+
+Then Wheeler made another observation.
+
+"This is a jolly lark!"
+
+Ellis and Griffin laughed, but Bailey held his peace. A thought struck
+Griffin.
+
+"I say, I wonder what old Mother Fletcher'll say? She'll send herself
+into fits! Fancy its being eleven o'clock! Did you ever hear of such a
+set-out in all your lives? And I've no more idea of where we are than
+the man in the moon."
+
+"I know," said Bailey. He began to trudge on a few feet in front of
+them.
+
+It still rained--a steady, soaking drizzle--and a haze which hung
+about the air made the night darker than it need have done. Griffin
+and Wheeler, minus caps, were wholly at the mercy of the weather.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised," muttered Griffin, "if I didn't catch a
+death of cold after this."
+
+And, indeed, such was a quite possible consummation of the evening's
+pleasure. The boys trudged on, following Bailey's lead. But Wheeler's
+feelings could only find relief by venting themselves in speech.
+
+"Did you ever hear anything like that chap? I never did, never! Fancy
+his going on with all that stuff about running away. I should like to
+catch myself at it,--running away! He's about the biggest liar ever I
+heard!"
+
+"And didn't he snap me up!" said Griffin. "Did you ever see anything
+like it? How was I to know where the beastly place was? I don't
+believe there is such a place."
+
+"He's cracked!" decided Ellis. Then, despite the rain, the young
+gentleman began snapping his fingers and cutting capers in the middle
+of the muddy road. "He's cracked! cracked! Oh lor', I never had such a
+spree in all my life!"
+
+Then the three young gentlemen put their hands to their sides and
+roared with laughter, stamping about the road to save themselves from
+choking. But Bailey trudged steadily on in front.
+
+"And didn't he give us a blow-out!"
+
+A shout of laughter. "Ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"And didn't he tell some busters!"
+
+Another chorus, as before.
+
+"I wonder if he ever did run away himself, as he said he did?" This
+remark came from Ellis, and his friends checked their laughter to
+consider it. They then for the first time discovered that Bailey was
+leaving them in the rear.
+
+"You're a nice sort of fellow," shouted Ellis after him. "Let's catch
+him up! What's his little game, I wonder? Let's catch him up!"
+
+They scampered after him along the road, soon catching him, for
+Bertie, who was not hurrying himself, was only a few yards in advance.
+Ellis slipped his arm through his.
+
+"I say, Bailey, do you think he ever ran away from school himself?"
+
+"What's it got to do with me?" was Bertie's reply.
+
+"Whatever made him go on at you like that? He must have taken you for
+a ninny to think you were going to swallow all he said! Fancy you
+running away! I think I see you at it! Running away to Huffham's and
+back is about your style. Why didn't you ask him for a tip? He seemed
+to be so uncommon fond of you that if I'd been you I'd have asked for
+one. You might have said if he made it large enough you'd run away;
+and so you might have done--to old Mother Huffham's and back." And
+Ellis nudged him in the side and laughed. But Bailey held his peace.
+
+Wheeler gave the conversation a different turn.
+
+"How are you fellows going to get in?" He referred to their effecting
+an entrance into Mecklemburg House.
+
+"Knock at the door, of course, and pull the bell, and dance a
+break-down on the steps, and make a shindy generally, so as to let
+'em know we've come." These suggestions came from Griffin. Wheeler
+took up the parable.
+
+"And tell old Mother Fletcher to let us have something hot for supper,
+and to look alive and get it, and make it tripe and onions, with a
+glass of stout to follow. I just fancy what she'd say."
+
+"And tell her," continued Griffin, "that we've been paying a visit to
+a nice, kind gentleman, who happens to be raving mad."
+
+"And she'd be pleased to hear that he advised us all to run away, and
+waste no time about it. Where did he advise us to go to? The land of
+golden dreams? Oh, my crikey, don't I see her face!"
+
+Bailey made a remark of a practical kind.
+
+"We can get in fast enough, there are always plenty of windows open."
+It is not impossible that the young gentleman had made an entrance
+into Mecklemburg House by some such way before.
+
+"It's easy enough to get in," said Ellis, "but what are we to say in
+the morning? It'll take about a week to dry my things, and about a
+month to get the mud off."
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if old Shane got sacked," chuckled Wheeler.
+
+"It will be jolly hard lines if he does," said Ellis.
+
+"Oh, what's the odds? he shouldn't have let us go!" Which remark of
+Wheeler's was pretty good, considering the circumstances under which
+Mr. Shane's permission had been obtained.
+
+Just then Bailey stopped, and began to peer about him in the night.
+
+"Have you lost your way?" asked Ellis. "That'll be the best joke of
+all if you have. Fancy camping out a night like this! We shan't quite
+be drowned by the morning, but just about almost."
+
+"I'm going to cut across this field," said Bailey. "It's ever so far
+round by the road, but we shall get there in less than no time if we
+go this way."
+
+The suggestion tickled Ellis.
+
+"Fancy cutting across fields on a night like this! Oh, my gracious!
+what will old Mother Fletcher say?"
+
+Bailey climbed over a gate, and the others clambered after him. It
+might be the shortest cut, but it was emphatically the dirtiest.
+
+"Why, if they haven't been ploughing it!" cried Griffin, before they
+had taken half a dozen steps.
+
+Apparently they had, and very recently too. The furrows were wide and
+deep, the soil seemed to be a stiffish clay; walking was exercise of
+the most hazardous kind. There was an exclamation from some one; but
+as it appeared that Griffin had only fallen forward on to his nose,
+his friends were too much occupied with their own proceedings to pay
+much heed.
+
+"I have lost my shoe!" declared Wheeler, immediately after. "Oh, I'm
+stuck in the mud; I believe I'm planted in this beastly field."
+
+"Never mind your shoe, since you've lost your hat already," said
+Ellis, with ready sympathy. "You might as well leave all the rest of
+your things behind you, for all the use they'll be after this little
+spree is over."
+
+"I don't know what Bailey calls a short cut," grumbled Griffin. "At
+the rate I'm going it'll take me about a couple of hours to do a
+hundred yards."
+
+"We shall be home with the milk," said Ellis.
+
+"I've lost my other shoe!" cried Wheeler.
+
+"No, have you really, though?"
+
+"I believe I have, but I don't know whether I have or whether I
+haven't; all I know is, I've got about a hundred pounds of mud
+sticking to my feet. I wish Bailey was at Jericho with his short
+cuts!"
+
+"This is nicer than that old lunatic," sang out Dick Ellis. "Don't I
+wish old Mother Fletcher could see us now."
+
+"I don't know what you call nice," said Griffin. "You'd call it nice
+if you had your eyes and nose and mouth bunged up. I'm down again!"
+
+"You needn't pull me with you," remonstrated Ellis.
+
+But Griffin did. Feeling that he was going, he made a frantic clutch
+at Ellis, who was just in front of him, and the two friends embraced
+each other on the treacherous ground. Ellis' tone underwent a sudden
+change.
+
+"I'll pay you out for this!"
+
+"I couldn't help it," protested Griffin.
+
+"Couldn't help it! What do you mean, you couldn't help it? Do you mean
+to say you couldn't help catching hold of me, and dragging me down
+into this beastly ditch?"
+
+"It isn't a ditch; it's a furrow."
+
+"I don't know what you call a furrow. I know I'm sopping wet, and
+where my hat's gone to I don't know."
+
+"What's it matter about your hat? I've lost mine ever so long ago! I
+wish I'd stopped at home, and never bothered old Shane to let me out.
+I know whoever else calls this a spree, I don't; spree indeed!"
+
+When they had regained their feet, and were cool enough to look about
+them, they found that the others were out of sight, and apparently out
+of hearing too.
+
+"Blessed if this isn't a go! If they haven't been and gone and left
+us. Hollo!" Ellis put his hand to his mouth, that his voice might
+carry further; but no answer came. "Ba-a-ailey! Ba-a-ailey!" But from
+Bailey came no sign. "This is a pretty state of things! wherever have
+they gone? If this is a game they think they're having, it's the
+meanest thing of which I ever heard, and I'll be even with them, mark
+my words. Which way did they go?"
+
+"How should I know? I don't even know which way we came. How's a
+fellow to know anything when he can't see his hand before his face in
+a place like this? It's my belief it's one of Bailey's little games."
+
+"Ba-a-ailey!" Ellis gave another view-halloo. In vain, only silence
+answered. "Well, this is a go! If it hadn't been for you I shouldn't
+have been in this hole."
+
+"I wish I'd never bothered old Shane to let me out!"
+
+"Bother old Shane, and bother you too! I don't know where I am any
+more than Adam."
+
+"I'm sure I don't."
+
+"It's no good standing here like a couple of moon-struck donkeys. I
+sink in the mud every time I put my foot to the ground; we shall be
+over head and heels by the time the morning comes. I'm going straight
+ahead; it must bring us somewhere, and it seems to me it don't much
+matter where."
+
+Minus his hat, not improved in person by his contact with the ground,
+nor in temper by the desertion of his friends, Dick Ellis renewed his
+journeying. Griffin found some difficulty in keeping up with him. How
+many times they lost their footing during the next few minutes it
+would be bootless to recount. Over mud, through mire, uphill,
+downhill, they staggered wildly.
+
+"I wonder how large this field is," observed Ellis, after about ten
+minutes of this sort of work. "It seems to me we've gone about six
+miles."
+
+"It seems to me we've gone sixty," groaned his friend.
+
+"Talk about short cuts! Fancy bringing a fellow into the middle of a
+ploughed field on a pitch-dark, rainy night, and leaving him to find
+his way alone! I say, Ellis, supposing we lose our way?"
+
+"Supposing we lose our way!" shouted Dick. "I guess we've lost it!
+What an ass you are! What do you think we're doing here, if we haven't
+lost our way? Do you think I'd stop in a place like this if I knew a
+way of getting out of it?" Just then he emphasized his remarks by
+sitting down in the mud, and remaining seated where he was. "I can't
+get up; I believe I'm stuck, and here I'll stick; and in the morning
+they'll find me dead: you mark my words, and see if they don't."
+
+The terror of the situation moved Griffin almost to tears.
+
+"Let's shout," he said.
+
+"What's the good of shouting?"
+
+"I don't know," said Griffin.
+
+"Then what an ass you are!" With difficulty Ellis staggered to his
+feet. "It's my belief I've got about an acre of land fastened to the
+seat of my breeches. I should like to know how I'm to walk and carry
+that about."
+
+They staggered on. A few yards further on they heard the sound of
+wheels upon a road.
+
+"There's the road!" cried Griffin, rapture in his voice. The sound
+gave him courage. He quickened his pace, and hastened on. Suddenly
+there was a splash, a cry of terror, then all was silence.
+
+"What's the matter?" cried Ellis, startled he scarcely knew at what.
+There was no reply. "Griffin, where are you? What's the matter?"
+
+There was a sound as of a splashing of water, and a stifled voice
+exclaimed,--
+
+"Help! I am drowning! He-elp!"
+
+Ellis pulled up short, and only just in time, for the ground seemed
+all at once to come to an end. He stood on the edge of a declivity,
+and in front of him was he knew not what. It was so dark, he could not
+see his hand in front of him. There was only the sound as of some one
+struggling in water, and faint cries for help. For an instant his legs
+seemed to refuse their office, his knees gave way from under him, and
+his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. Then he became conscious of
+wheels moving along a road which was close at hand. The sound gave him
+courage, and he shouted with the full force of his lungs,--
+
+"Help! help!"
+
+To his intense satisfaction, an immediate answer was returned.
+
+"Hollo!" a gruff voice replied; "who's that a-calling?"
+
+"I!--here!--in the field! There's some one drowning."
+
+"Hold hard! I'll bring you a light."
+
+A moment's pause; then in front of him a light was seen dimly
+approaching through the night. Never before had a light been so
+heartily welcome to Master Richard Ellis.
+
+"Where are you?"
+
+"Here! Take care where you're coming; there's a pond, or something,
+just in front of you."
+
+The new-comer approached, keeping a wary eye upon the ground as he
+advanced. Ellis saw it was a carter, and that he carried an
+old-fashioned round lantern in his hand, with a lighted candle stuck
+in the socket. The carter held the lantern above his head, standing
+still, and peering through the night. The man was visible to the boy,
+but the boy, shrouded in the blackness of the night, was invisible to
+the man.
+
+"Where are you?" he asked, seeing nothing in the gloom.
+
+"Never mind me; Griffin's drowning in a pond, or something."
+
+The splashing continued.
+
+"I'm drowning! He-elp!"
+
+The carter stooped forward, so that the light fell on the ground. Then
+Ellis perceived that between the man and himself was a little pond,
+into which the over-anxious Griffin had managed to fall.
+
+"There ain't no water there," said the carter. "Where are you? Come
+out of it. There ain't enough water to drown a cat."
+
+Griffin, perceiving that the fact was as the carter stated, proceeded
+to betake himself to what was, in comparison, dry land. But though not
+drowned, a more pitiable sight could scarcely be presented. He had
+fallen head-foremost into the filthy pool; the water was trickling
+down his head and face, and his countenance was plastered with an
+unsavoury coating of green slime.
+
+"What are you? a boy?" inquired the carter. "Well, you're a pretty
+sight, anyhow!"
+
+For answer Griffin burst into tears. Ellis, who had by this time found
+his way round the pond, joined in the criticism of his friend.
+
+"Well, I am blessed!" In spite of his own plight, he was almost moved
+to mirth. "Won't old Mother Fletcher take it out of you! I wouldn't be
+in your shoes for a pound."
+
+"Who's she? and who are you?" asked the carter.
+
+"Have you ever heard of Mecklemburg House?"
+
+"What, the school? Be you from the school? Well, you're a pretty
+couple, the pair of you. What little game are you up to now--running
+away? Won't they lay it into you!" The carter grinned; he was not
+aware that corporal punishment was interdicted at Mecklemburg House,
+and already seemed to see the "laying in" in his mind's eye.
+
+"We--weren't running--away!" wept Griffin. "We've lost our way."
+
+"Lost your way! Well, I never! That's a good one!" The carter seemed
+to doubt the statement.
+
+"We have lost our way," said Ellis.
+
+"Look here! for a couple of pins I'll take you by the scruff of your
+necks and walk you back myself, if you come any of your games on me."
+
+From his tone and manner the carter seemed to be indignant. Griffin
+stared--as well as he could through his tears and the slime--and Ellis
+stared, being both at a loss to understand his indignation.
+
+"Coming with your tales to me, telling me you've lost your way, with
+the school just across the road."
+
+His hearers stared still more.
+
+"You don't mean it?" Ellis said. "Why, if--I don't believe--why, if
+this isn't old Palmer's field, which he was only ploughing yesterday,
+and if you haven't tumbled into old Palmer's pond! Well, if we aren't
+a couple of beauties!"
+
+Griffin stared at Ellis, and the carter stared at both of them. The
+fact was beginning to dawn upon these young gentlemen, the startling
+fact, that they had been all the time in a country with every inch of
+which they were acquainted, and that it was only the darkness which
+had confused them. As the carter had said, Palmer's field--which was
+the name by which it was known to the boys--was right in front of
+Mecklemburg House, and, in consequence, the school, instead of being,
+as they supposed, a mile or so away, was just across the road. When
+they had fully realized this fact, the young gentlemen gave a
+simultaneous yell of satisfaction, and without wasting any time in
+compliments and thanks, dashed through the open gate, and out of
+sight, leaving the carter to the enjoyment of his own society.
+
+"Well," was the comment of that worthy, when he perceived the full
+measure of ingratitude which was entailed by this unlooked-for flight,
+"if I ever helps another being out of a ditch I'll let him know. Not
+even the price of half a pint!" Then he shouted after them, "I hope
+the schoolmeaster'll tan the hide from off you. I would if I were
+him."
+
+Possibly the expression of this pious wish in some degree relieved his
+feelings, for he followed the boys, though at a much more decorous
+pace, through the gate. When he reached the road, he stopped for a
+moment and looked around him, but there were no signs of any one in
+sight--the birds had flown. So, muttering beneath his breath what were
+probably not blessings, he returned to his charge, a huge vehicle,
+drawn by four perspiring horses, and which was loaded with market
+produce. Climbing up to his seat, he started his horses and continued
+his journey through the night. But though he was not aware of it, the
+young gentlemen who had treated him with such ingratitude had not come
+to the end of their adventure.
+
+The front gate of Mecklemburg House stood wide open, and they
+unhesitatingly dashed inside. But no sooner were they in the
+grass-grown courtyard than a thought struck Griffin.
+
+"I wonder if Bailey and Wheeler have come back?"
+
+"I don't know, and I don't care," said Ellis.
+
+But the interchange of speech brought them back to the sense of their
+situation.
+
+"How are you going to get in?" asked Griffin.
+
+"Through the schoolroom window; it's always open," replied his friend.
+
+But this always was a rule liable to exceptions, for on this occasion
+the particular window referred to happened to be shut. However, to
+understand all that was to follow, it is necessary to bring this
+chapter to an end.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter VII
+
+                     THE RETURN OF THE WANDERERS
+
+
+While Bailey and his friends were spending the evening in the company
+of Mr. George Washington Bankes, the principal of Mecklemburg House
+was in a condition in which principals are very seldom supposed to be,
+a condition very closely allied to tears.
+
+Mr. Fletcher was a tall, thin man, whose height was altogether out of
+proportion to his width. He was afflicted with a chronic stoop, and
+had a way, in walking, of shuffling, rather than stepping from foot to
+foot, which was scarcely dignified. His face was not unpleasing; there
+was a mildness in his eye and a sweetness about his infrequent smile
+which spoke of a gentler nature than the typical pedagogue is supposed
+to have.
+
+The Philistines were upon him now; the battle, which he had long been
+feebly eluding, rather than boldly facing, had closed its ranks, and
+in the mere preamble to the fray he had immediately succumbed. It
+would have been better, perhaps, if he had been made of sterner stuff,
+but, unless he could have been entirely changed into another man,
+sooner or later the end was bound to come. Mr. Fletcher was ruined,
+and with him Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was ruined too.
+
+He had been on a forlorn hope to town. A certain creditor, in return
+for money advanced, held a bill of sale on all the contents of the
+academy. Necessary payments had not been made, and he had threatened
+to swoop down upon the ancient red-brick house, and make a clearance
+of every desk and stool, every pot and kettle, every bed and bolster
+the premises contained. To appease this personage, Mr. Fletcher had
+journeyed up to town, and had journeyed up in vain. The fiat had gone
+forth that to-morrow, the day after, any day or any hour--in the
+middle of the night, for all he knew--hard-hearted strangers might and
+would arrive, and, without asking with your leave or by your leave,
+would strip Mecklemburg House of every movable it contained.
+
+This was what it had come to after five-and-twenty years! When his
+father died he had been left a comfortable sum of ready money,
+untarnished credit, and a flourishing school; of all which nothing was
+left him now.
+
+The principal and his wife were seated in their own sitting-room,
+trying to look the matter boldly in the face. Mr. Fletcher, sitting
+with his elbows on the table, covered his face with his hands. Mrs.
+Fletcher, a hard-featured woman, had her arm about his neck, and
+strove to comfort him. Her ideas of comfort were of a material sort.
+
+"Come, eat your supper, now do. You've had nothing to eat all day, and
+when you've eaten a bit things will look brighter, perhaps."
+
+Mr. Fletcher turned his care-worn face up to his wife.
+
+"Jane, things will never look bright to me again."
+
+The man's voice trembled, and the woman turned her face away, perhaps
+unwilling to let him see that in her eyes were tears. The principal
+got up and began to walk about the room. His stoop was more pronounced
+than usual, and his shuffling style of movement more ungainly.
+
+"I'm just a failure, that's what I am, a failure. The world's moved
+on, and I've stood still. I'm exactly where my father was, and in
+schools and schoolmasters there's a difference of a hundred years
+between his time and this. I'm not fit for keeping school in these new
+times. I don't know what I am fit for. I'm fit for nothing but to
+die!"
+
+"And if you die, what's to become of me?"
+
+"And if I live, what'll happen to you then?"
+
+"It'll happen to me that I'll have you, and do you think that's
+nothing?"
+
+"Jane, it's worse than nothing! You ought to have been the man instead
+of me. I shall be a clog to you and a burden; you're fit for fifty
+things, and I'm not fit for one! I could not make a decent clerk. I'm
+very certain I could not pass the examination required of a teacher in
+a board-school; I doubt if I ever could have reached that standard.
+I'm very certain I could not now. Times are changed in matters of
+education. People used to be satisfied with a twentieth part of what
+they now require. When I am turned out of the house in which I was
+born, and in which I have lived my whole life long, as I shall be in
+the course of a day or two, and you are turned out with me, wife,
+there will be fifty openings you will be fitted to fill, while
+I shall only be fit to carry circulars from house to house, or a
+sandwich-board through the streets."
+
+"It's no use talking in that way, Beauclerk; it only breaks my heart
+to hear you, and it does no good. We must make up our minds to do
+something at once, and the great thing is, what? Now come and eat your
+supper, or you'll be ill; you know how you suffer if you go hungry to
+bed."
+
+"I may as well become accustomed to it, because I shall have to go
+hungry very soon."
+
+"Beauclerk!--what is the use of going on like that?--do you want to
+break my heart?"
+
+"Wife, I believe mine's broken."
+
+Mr. Fletcher leaned his face against the wall just where he was
+standing, his long, lean frame shaken with his sobbing.
+
+"Beauclerk! Beauclerk! don't! don't!"
+
+Hard-faced Mrs. Fletcher went to her husband, and took him in her
+arms, and soothed him as though he were a child of five. Mr. Fletcher
+looked up. His face was ghastly with the effort he made at
+self-control.
+
+"I think I will have some supper; perhaps it will do me good,"
+
+Husband and wife sat down to supper. There were the remains of a leg
+of mutton, a little glass jar half-filled with pickled cabbage, a
+small piece of cheese, and bread. Mrs. Fletcher put some mutton on her
+husband's plate, and a smaller portion on her own. Mr. Fletcher
+swallowed one or two mouthfuls, but apparently it went against the
+grain.
+
+"I can't eat it," he said, pushing away his plate; "I'm not hungry."
+
+"Won't you have some cheese? it's very nice cheese."
+
+"I'm not hungry," repeated her husband.
+
+His wife held her peace; she continued eating, not, perhaps, because
+she was hungry, but possibly because she wished, in doing something,
+to find a momentary relief from the necessity of thinking. Mr.
+Fletcher sat drawing patterns with his fork upon the tablecloth.
+
+"I shall write to the parents in the morning. In fact, I ought to
+write to them to-night, but I don't feel up to it. I shall tell them
+that I am ruined, root and branch, stock and stone; that Mecklemburg
+House Collegiate School is a thing of the past, and that they had
+better remove their sons immediately, and let them have the means to
+travel with, because I have none."
+
+"When did Booker say he would distrain?"
+
+Booker was the creditor who held the bill of sale.
+
+"He didn't specify the exact hour and minute, but it'll only be a
+question of an hour or two in any case. We can't pay and the things
+must go."
+
+"But you have received money from some of the boys in advance."
+
+Mr. Fletcher got up, and began to pace the room again.
+
+"I have received money from most of them. Jane, what am I to do? As
+you know very well, I have received from more than half the boys the
+term's fees in advance. I am not clear that they could not prosecute
+me for obtaining money by means of false pretences; but, in any case,
+I shall feel that I have played the part of a dishonest man. Why
+didn't I say frankly at the beginning of the term, I am ruined, ruined
+hopelessly! and gone down at once without a pretence of struggling
+through another term?"
+
+"We have struggled through so many, we could not tell we should not be
+able to struggle again."
+
+"At any rate, we haven't. Before we're halfway through the term we're
+beaten, and I have received money on what was very much like false
+pretences. Then there are Mr. Till and Mr. Shane; they're entitled to
+a term's salary, if they could not lay claim to a term's notice too."
+
+Mrs. Fletcher's face grew cold and hard, and there was an unpleasant
+glitter in her eyes.
+
+"I shouldn't trouble myself about them; a more helpless lout than Mr.
+Shane, as you call him, I never saw, and to my mind Mr. Till never has
+been worth his salt. This morning, when he was left in charge, the
+school was like a bear-garden; I had to go in half a dozen times to
+ask what the noise was about. It's my belief that if you had had
+proper assistance you wouldn't be in the state you are in now."
+
+Mr. Fletcher sighed.
+
+"That is not the question, my dear; I owe them the money, and they
+ought to be paid. I know that they are both almost, if not quite
+penniless, and if I do not pay them something I doubt whether they
+will have the means to take them up to town. Remember, too, that this
+is the middle of term, and that how long they will be without even the
+chance of getting another situation goodness only knows."
+
+"And are you better off? Have you better prospect of a situation?
+Beauclerk, before you pay either of those men a penny you will have to
+speak to me; I will not be robbed by them."
+
+"If I would I have nothing to pay them with, so there is an end of it,
+my dear."
+
+"Do you know what Mr. Shane's latest performance has been?" Struck
+by something in his wife's tone, Mr. Fletcher glanced at her with
+inquiry in his eyes. "I have not told you yet, because I have been
+too much upset by the news which you have brought to tell you
+anything,--goodness knows we have enough of our own to bear without
+having to bear the brunt of that clown's blunders too."
+
+Seeing that his wife's eloquence bade fair to carry her away, Mr.
+Fletcher interposed a question.
+
+"What has Mr. Shane been doing?"
+
+"Doing! I'll tell you what he has been doing,--and you talk of robbing
+yourself to give him money! He let four of those boys go out in the
+rain this afternoon, when I expressly told him not to; and it would
+seem as if he has let them go for good, for they are still out now."
+
+Her husband looked at her, not quite catching the meaning of her
+words.
+
+"Still out now?"
+
+"Yes, still out now. Bailey, Griffin, Wheeler and Ellis went out this
+afternoon, in all the rain and fog, with Mr. Shane's permission; and
+out they've stopped, for they're not back yet."
+
+"Not back yet! Jane, you cannot mean it. Why, it's nearly midnight."
+Mr. Fletcher looked at his venerable silver watch, which had come to
+him, with the rest of his possessions, from his father. "What's that?"
+
+Husband and wife listened. The silence which reigned without had been
+broken by a crash from the schoolroom, a crash which bore a strong
+family resemblance to the sound made by the upsetting of a form.
+
+"It's those boys!" said Mrs. Fletcher. "They're getting through the
+window."
+
+She hurried off to see, her husband following closely after. All the
+lights were out; save the sitting-room which they had left, all the
+house was dark. She called to him to bring the lamp. Returning, he
+snatched it from the table and went after her again.
+
+They entered the schoolroom, Mr. Fletcher acting as lamp-bearer.
+Directly the door was opened they were conscious of a strong current
+of air within the room. Mrs. Fletcher went swiftly forward, picking
+her way among the desks and forms, and the cause of the noise they had
+heard and the draught they felt was soon apparent. The furthest window
+was wide open. In front of it a form was overturned upon the floor, a
+form which some one effecting a burglarious entrance through the
+window in the dark had unwittingly turned over. The lady's quick eye
+caught sight of a figure crouching behind a neighbouring desk. It did
+not take her long to drag a young gentleman out by the collar of his
+coat.
+
+"Well--upon--my--word!"
+
+Her astonishment was genuine, and excusable; few more disreputable
+figures ever greeted a lady's eye.
+
+"Is this Bailey?"
+
+It was Bailey. Perhaps at that moment Bailey rather wished it wasn't;
+but the surprise of his sudden capture had bereft him of the power of
+speech, and he was unable to deny his identity. The lady did nothing
+else but stare. Suddenly somebody else made his appearance at the
+window, a head rose above the window-sill, and a meek, modest voice
+inquired,--
+
+"Please, ma'am, may I come in?"
+
+The new-comer was Edward Wheeler. The lady's astonishment redoubled.
+
+"Well--I--never!"
+
+Taking this exclamation to convey permission, Wheeler gradually raised
+himself the necessary height, and finally, after a few convulsive
+plunges to prevent himself from slipping back again, scrambled through
+the window and stood upon the floor. Wheeler presented a companion
+picture to his friend. As he had lost his hat at an early hour of the
+evening, he, perhaps, in some slight details, bore away the palm from
+Bailey. Mrs. Fletcher stared at them both in blank amazement; in all
+her experience of boys she never had seen anything quite equal to
+these two. Mr. Fletcher, lamp in hand, came up to join in the
+inspection.
+
+"Where have you boys been?" he asked.
+
+"Out to tea," said Bailey.
+
+Mrs. Fletcher sniffed disdainfully.
+
+"Out to tea! Don't tell me that! I should think you've been out to tea
+in a ditch!"
+
+Mr. Fletcher carried on the examination.
+
+"How dare you tell me you've been to tea! Where have you boys been?"
+
+"We have been out to tea," said Bailey.
+
+"And where, sir, have you been having tea, that you come back at this
+hour, and in such a plight as that?"
+
+"Washington Villa," answered Bailey.
+
+"Washington Villa! And where's Washington Villa? But never mind that,
+I shall have something to say to you in the morning. Where are those
+other boys? Where are Griffin and Ellis?"
+
+"They're coming," muttered Bailey.
+
+Just then they came. While Mr. Fletcher hesitated, in doubt what to do
+or say, a voice, unmistakably Ellis', was heard without.
+
+"Is that you, Bailey? Won't I pay you out for this, you cad! We might
+have got drowned for all you cared. Here's Griffin got half-drowned as
+it is."
+
+Thrusting her head out of the window, Mrs. Fletcher replied to the
+wanderer; a reply, doubtless, as unexpected as undesired.
+
+"If Mr. Fletcher did as I wished him, he'd give each of you boys a
+good round flogging before you went to bed, a lot of disobedient,
+ungrateful, untruthful, and untrustworthy scamps!"
+
+Possibly this was enough for Ellis, for he subsided and was heard no
+more, but a sound of weeping arose. It was the grief of Charlie
+Griffin. Placing the lamp upon a desk, Mr. Fletcher put his head out
+of the window beside his wife's.
+
+"I'm not going to open the hall door for you at this time of night.
+Your friends came through the window, and you can follow your
+friends."
+
+They followed their friends, Ellis coming first; Griffin, with not
+unnatural bashfulness, preferring to keep in the background. Mrs.
+Fletcher's uplifted hands and cry of astonishment greeted Ellis, who
+was indeed a notable example of the possibilities of dirt as applied
+to the person, but Griffin's entry was followed by the silence of
+petrified amazement.
+
+His friends' attempts at disfigurement were altogether unsuccessful as
+compared to the success which had attended his. They were dandies
+compared to him. It was difficult at a first glance to realize that he
+was a boy, or indeed a human being of any kind. He was covered with a
+combination of weeds, green slime, particoloured filth, and yellow
+clay; the water dripped from the more prominent portions of his frame;
+his clothes were glued to his limbs; he was hatless; his face and hair
+were plastered with the aforesaid slime; and, to crown it all, he was
+convulsed with a sorrow which lay too deep for words.
+
+"Griffin!" was all that the headmaster's wife could gasp. "Charlie
+Griffin!"
+
+"Where have you been?" asked Mr. Fletcher.
+
+"I've been in the pond," gasped Griffin, half choked with mud and
+tears.
+
+"In the pond? What pond?"
+
+"Pa-almer's po-ond!"
+
+"Palmer's pond! What were you doing in there? What I'm to do with you
+boys is more than I can say!" Mr. Fletcher sighed. "There's one thing,
+I shan't have to do with you much longer." This was muttered half
+beneath his breath. "What are we to do with them, my dear?" This was a
+question to his wife.
+
+"Don't ask me; I don't know what we're to do with them. I should think
+that boy"--here she pointed an accusatory finger at Griffin--"had
+better go back to Palmer's pond. He appears to be fond of it, and it's
+the only place he's fit for." Griffin was moved to wilder tears. "He
+had better take his things off where he stands, and throw them out
+into the yard; they'll never be good for anything again, and he shan't
+go upstairs with them on. And all four of them"--this with sudden
+vivacity which turned attention away from Griffin--"must have a bath
+before they think of going to bed between my sheets. A pretty state of
+things to have to get baths ready at this time of night!"
+
+"Griffin, you had better take off your things," said Mr. Fletcher
+mildly, when his wife had finished. "I don't know what your father
+will say when he hears of the way in which you treat your clothing."
+
+Mrs. Fletcher returned to her sitting-room, and Griffin unrobed
+himself, flinging each separate article of clothing into the yard as
+he took it off. Then a procession, headed by Mr. Fletcher, started for
+the bath-room. After a few moments' contact with clean, cold water,
+the young gentlemen, presenting a more respectable appearance, were
+escorted to their bedroom, Mr. Fletcher remaining while they put
+themselves to bed. Having assured himself that they actually were
+between the sheets, "I will speak to you in the morning," he said, and
+disappeared.
+
+When the boys had satisfied themselves that he was out of hearing,
+their tongues began to wag. Griffin was still whimpering.
+
+"It's all through you, Bailey, I got into this row."
+
+Something suspiciously like a chuckle was the only answer which came
+from Bailey's bed.
+
+"I say, did you really tumble into Palmer's pond?" inquired Wheeler.
+
+"Of course I did! How could I help it when you couldn't see your hand
+before your face?"
+
+Wheeler buried himself in the bedclothes and roared with laughter.
+
+"You wouldn't have laughed if it had been you," continued the outraged
+Griffin. "I was as nearly drowned as anything. I should have been if
+it hadn't been for a fellow with a lantern."
+
+"Go away! drowned!" scoffed Bailey, unconsciously repeating the
+carter's words; "why, there isn't enough water to drown a cat!"
+
+"What did you go and leave us for like that?" asked Ellis.
+
+"Do you think I was going to mess about in the rain all night while
+you two were squabbling on top of each other in the mud?"
+
+"I call it a mean thing to do!"
+
+"Who cares what you call it?"
+
+"And if it weren't so jolly late, I'd give you something for
+yourself."
+
+"Oh, would you? You'd give me something for myself! I like that! You
+wait till the morning, and then perhaps I'll give you something for
+yourself instead!"
+
+Unconscious of the compliments which his affectionate pupils were
+bandying from one to the other, Mr. Fletcher returned to his wife,
+seated in the parlour. His whole air was one of depression, as of one
+who had no longer spirit enough to fight with fortune.
+
+"Well, it will be over to-morrow!" he said. "I don't think I'm much
+good at school-keeping; I'm not strong enough; I'm not sufficiently
+able to impress my influence on others." Going to the mantelshelf he
+leaned his head upon his hand. "I suspect I've failed as a
+schoolmaster because I deserved to fail."
+
+Then, forgetting the heroes of the night, his wife began to comfort
+him.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter VIII
+
+                         PREPARING FOR FLIGHT
+
+
+That night Bertie Bailey dreamed a dream. In fact, he dreamed several
+dreams; his slumber-time was passed in dreamland, journeying from
+dream to dream.
+
+He dreamed of the Land of Golden Dreams; of Mr. Bankes and Washington
+Villa; of a boy traversing a road which ran right around the world; of
+tumbling into ponds and scrambling out of them; of some mysterious
+country, peopled by a race of giants, to which there came a boy, who,
+single-handed, brought them low, and claimed the country for his own,
+and the soil of that land consisted of gold and silver, with judicious
+variations of precious stones. In his dreams he saw weapons flashing
+in the air, and he heard the sound of strange instruments of music.
+
+Just before he woke he dreamed the most vivid dream of all. A moment
+before all had been a chaos of bewilderment, but all at once he found
+himself alone, in the centre of some wild place, not quite sure what
+sort of place it was, nor where, nor of anything about it, but he knew
+that it was wild. A voice was heard in the air, and he knew that it
+was the voice of Mr. George Washington Bankes. The voice kept
+repeating, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" and every time the
+words were uttered the boy's heart leapt up within him, and he went
+bounding on. The one voice became several, the world was full of
+voices, yet he knew that they all belonged to the original Mr. George
+Washington Bankes; and over and over again they repeated the same
+refrain, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" till the whole world
+was alive with it, and birds and beasts and sticks and stones caught
+up the same refrain, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" and the
+boy's heart was filled with a great and wondrous exultation. But all
+at once the voices ceased; all was still; and the boy found that he
+was standing in front of a mighty mountain, which filled the world
+with darkness, and barred the way in front of him. And he was
+beginning to be afraid, when out of the silence and the darkness came,
+in a still small whisper--which he knew to be the whisper of Mr.
+George Washington Bankes--the words, "A life of adventure's the life
+for me!" and they put courage into his heart, and he stretched out his
+arm and touched the mountain, and, behold! at his touch it was cleft
+asunder, and in its bosom were all the treasures of the earth.
+
+But it was unfortunately at this point that he awoke. It was not
+unnatural that for some moments he should have refused to have
+acknowledged the fact--to confess that he really was awake, and that
+it had been nothing but a dream.
+
+It was broad daylight. The sun was peeping through the windows, along
+the edges of the ill-fitting blinds. It was nothing but a dream. As he
+began to realize the fact of the gleaming sunshine, even he was
+obliged to admit that it had been nothing but a dream. He turned in
+his bed with a dissatisfied grunt.
+
+"I never dreamed anything like that before, nothing half so real! It
+seemed as if I had only to put out my hand to touch that mountain
+now."
+
+But it only seemed, for there was no mountain there, only a coverlet,
+and a sheet, and a blanket or two, and a bolster, and a mattress, and
+a bed. Bertie lay on his back, with his eyes closed, attempting, by an
+effort of his will, to bring back the vanished dream. And to some
+extent he succeeded, for as he lay quiescent he seemed to hear,
+ringing in his ears, the words he had heard in his dream--
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!"
+
+He seemed so certainly to hear them that, just as they had done in his
+dream, they filled him with a sudden fire. Thoroughly aroused, he sat
+up in bed, grasping the bedclothes with eager hands. And to himself he
+said, half beneath his breath, "A life of adventure's the life for
+me!"
+
+The other boys were still asleep in the little iron bedsteads on
+either side of him, but he made no attempt to recompose himself to
+slumber. He remained sitting up in bed, his knees huddled up to his
+chin, engaged in a very unwonted act for him, the act of thinking.
+
+The events of the night before were vividly before him, but
+principally among them, a giant in the foreground, was the figure of
+Mr. George Washington Bankes.
+
+"Why don't you run away?" Mr. Bankes' question rang in his ears.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!" Those other words of Mr.
+Bankes, which had been with him through the dream-haunted night, still
+danced before his eyes.
+
+Than Bertie Bailey a less romantic-looking youth one could scarce
+conceive. But history tells us that some of the greatest heroes of
+romance, real, live, flesh-and-blood heroes, who actually at some time
+or other did exist, were anything but romantic in their persons.
+Perhaps Bailey was one of these. Anyhow, stowed away in some
+out-of-the-way corner of his unromantic-looking person was a vein of
+romance of the most pronounced and unequivocal kind.
+
+His range of reading was not wide, yet he had his heroes of fiction
+none the less. They were rather a motley crew, and if he had been
+asked the question, say in an examination paper, "Who is your
+favourite hero? give a short sketch of his life," he would have
+hesitated once or twice before he would have written Dick Turpin,
+Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, or Jack the Giant-Killer. Perhaps he
+would have hesitated still longer before he had attempted to sketch
+the life of any one of them. Yet, had he told the truth, the gentleman
+selected would have been one of these.
+
+Possibly in the act of selection his greatest difficulty would have
+lain. He never could quite make up his mind which of the four
+gentlemen named above he liked the best. There were points about Dick
+Turpin which struck his fancy. He would rather have ridden that ride
+to York than have had ten thousand pounds. It would have been worth
+his while to have been Dick Turpin if only to possess that horse of
+horses, Black Bess, the coal-black steed of his heart's desire, though
+it may be mentioned in passing that up to the present moment Bertie
+Bailey had never figured upon a horse's back. He had once ridden a
+donkey from Ramsgate to Pegwell Bay, but a donkey was not Black Bess.
+
+On the other hand, there was no part of England with which he was
+better acquainted--theoretically--than the glades of Sherwood Forest.
+To have lived in those glades with Robin Hood, Bailey would heave a
+great sigh at the prospect; ah, that he only could! Yet certainly one
+had only to speak of the desert island, and of Robinson Crusoe on its
+lonely shore, for Bertie to feel a wild longing to plough the distant
+main, a longing which was scarcely consistent with his desire for the
+glades of Sherwood Forest. It is the fashion to sneer at fairy tales,
+and to speak of them as though they were beneath the supposititious
+dignity of the common noun boy, and certainly the marvellous history
+and adventures of Jack the Giant-Killer belong to the domain of the
+fairies. Possibly Bertie would have been himself ashamed to own his
+partiality for that hero of the nursery; and yet, to have had Jack's
+courage and strength and skill, to have slaughtered giants and taken
+castles and rescued maidens--Bertie sometimes dreamt of himself as
+another Jack, and then always with a rapture too deep for words.
+
+Perhaps his real, ideal, and favourite hero would have consisted of a
+judicious combination of the four--something of Dick Turpin, and
+something of Robin Hood, and something of Robinson Crusoe, and
+something of Jack the Giant-Killer. Take all these somethings and mix
+them well together, and you would have had the man for Bailey.
+Emphatically, although almost unconsciously, in all his waking dreams,
+a life of adventure had been the life for him.
+
+Mr. George Washington Bankes had applied the match to the powder. As
+he thought of all that gentleman had said, even in the cool of the
+morning, all his soul was on fire. Seeing him in his nightshirt of
+doubtful cleanliness, and with his touzled hair, you might not have
+supposed that there was fire in his soul, but there was. Run away! He
+had heard of boys running away from school before to-day.
+
+Boys had run away from Mecklemburg House, and there were stories of
+one who, within quite recent times, had made a dash for liberty. Some
+said he had got as far as Windsor, some said Dorking, before he had
+changed his mind and decided to come back again. But he had come back
+again. Bailey made up his mind that when he ran away he would never
+come back again; never! or, at any rate, not till he had traversed the
+world in several different directions, as Mr. George Washington Bankes
+had done.
+
+It had already become a question of _when_ he ran away. With that
+quickness in arriving at a decision which, so some tell us, is the
+sure sign of a commanding intellect, he had already decided that he
+would; there only remained the question of time and opportunity.
+
+"Why don't you run away?" Mr. Bankes had asked. Yes, why, indeed?
+especially if one had only to run away to step at once into the Land
+of Golden Dreams!
+
+When the boys took their places in the schoolroom after breakfast,
+prepared for morning school, a startling announcement was made to them
+by Mr. Fletcher. Bailey and his friends had expected that something
+would be said to them on the subject of their escapade of the night
+before; but so far, so far as those in authority were concerned, their
+expectations had been disappointed. They had been sufficiently
+cross-examined by their fellow-pupils, and in spite of a slight
+suggestive foreboding of something unpleasant to come, when they
+perceived how their proceedings appeared in the eyes of their
+colleagues, they were almost inclined to look upon themselves somewhat
+in the light of heroes. Griffin, indeed, had not heard the last of the
+pond, and it was not of the tragic side of his misadventure that he
+heard the most. There were some disagreeable remarks made by personal
+friends who would not see that he had run imminent risk of being
+drowned. He almost began to wish that he had been.
+
+"You wouldn't have laughed at it then," he said. But they laughed at
+it now.
+
+But neither from Mr. Till, nor from Mr. Shane, nor from Mr. Fletcher,
+nor from the far more terrible Mrs. Fletcher, had either of the young
+gentlemen heard a word.
+
+And just when they were preparing for morning school Mr. Fletcher made
+his startling announcement.
+
+At first the quartett thought, not unreasonably, that his remarks were
+going to have particular reference to them and to their misdoings, but
+they were wrong. The headmaster was seated at his desk, in a seemingly
+more than usually preoccupied mood; but he too often was preoccupied
+in school, so they paid no heed, and got out their books and slates,
+and other implements of study, with the ordinary din and clatter.
+Suddenly he spoke.
+
+"Boys, I want to speak to you."
+
+The boys looked at him, and the quartett looked at each other. Mr.
+Fletcher did not raise his head, but with his eyes fixed on the desk
+in front of him continued to speak as though he found considerable
+difficulty in saying what he had to say.
+
+"I have had heavy losses lately in carrying on the school. Some of you
+know that the number of boys has grown smaller by degrees and
+beautifully less."
+
+There was a faint smile about Mr. Fletcher's mouth which did not quite
+betoken mirth.
+
+"But I do not complain. I should not have mentioned it, only"--he
+paused, raised his head, and looked round the room, his eyes resting
+for a moment on each of the boys as they passed--"only when one has no
+boys one can keep no school. I have found, very certainly, that
+without boys school cannot keep me--my wife and I. Our wants are not
+large--they have grown even smaller of recent years--but to satisfy
+the most modest wants something is required, and we have nothing."
+
+Again he paused, and again something like the ghost of a smile flitted
+across his face. By this time the boys were listening with their eyes
+and ears, and Mr. Shane and Mr. Till listened with the rest.
+
+"I am a ruined schoolmaster. I should not have told you this--it is
+not a pleasant thing to have to tell--only my ruin is so complete, and
+so near. It will necessitate your returning home at once. Mecklemburg
+House will no longer be able to offer shelter to either you or I, and
+I--I was born here; you will perhaps be able to go with lighter
+hearts. I have communicated with your parents. You must pack your
+things at once; some of you will, perhaps, be fetched in an hour or
+two. I have advised your parents that you had better be all of you
+removed by to-morrow morning at the latest. Under these circumstances
+there will, of course, be no morning school; nor, indeed, in
+Mecklemburg House any more school at any time."
+
+Perhaps, in that schoolroom, the silence had never been so marked as
+it was when Mr. Fletcher ceased. The boys looked at each other, and at
+their master, scarcely understanding what it was that he had said, and
+by no means certain that they were entitled to believe their ears. No
+morning school! Mecklemburg House ceased to exist! Pack up! Going home
+at once! These things were marvellous in their eyes. There were those
+among them who had not failed to see the way in which things were
+tending, who knew that Mecklemburg House was very far from being what
+it was, that the glory was departed; but for such a thunderclap as
+this they were wholly unprepared. Pack up! Going home at once! The
+boys could do nothing else but stare.
+
+"You will disperse now, and go into the playground. Put your books
+away quietly You will be called in as you are wanted to assist in
+packing."
+
+They put their books away. It was unnecessary to bid them do it
+quietly; their demeanour had never been so decorous. Then they filed
+out silently, one after the other, and the headmaster and his ushers
+were left alone.
+
+One boy there was who walked out of that schoolroom as though he were
+walking in a dream. This was Bailey. It was all wonderful to him. He
+was watching for an opportunity to fly--he knew not why, he knew not
+where; but that is by the way. He had only begun to watch an hour or
+two ago, and here was the opportunity thrust into his hand. He never
+doubted for an instant that here was the opportunity thrust into his
+hand.
+
+It was now or never. He had reasons of his own for knowing that when
+he had left Mecklemburg House he had left boarding-school for ever. He
+might have a term or two at a day-school, but what was the use of
+running away from a school of that description? It was heroic to run
+away from boarding-school, but from day-school--where was the heroic
+quantity in that? No, it was now or never, and Bertie Bailey resolved
+it should be now. So in a secluded corner of the playground he matured
+his adventurous scheme; for even he was not prepared to rush through
+the playground gate and dash into the world upon the spot.
+
+"I must get some money."
+
+So much he decided. It may be mentioned that he arrived at this
+decision first of all. It may be added that his consciousness of the
+desirability of getting money was not lessened by the fact that he
+possessed none now; no, not so much as a specimen of the smallest
+copper coinage of the realm.
+
+"I must try to borrow some from some of the chaps." He was aware that
+this was not a hopeful field. "But a fellow can't go without any money
+at all; even Mr. Bankes said he had ninepence-halfpenny." He
+remembered every word which Mr. Bankes had said. "Wheeler had
+sevenpence, and he promised to lend me twopence, but he's such a
+selfish beast I shouldn't be surprised if he's changed his mind.
+Besides, I ought to have more than twopence, or sevenpence, either.
+Perhaps he might lend me the lot; he's not a bad sort sometimes.
+Anyhow, I'll try."
+
+He tried. Slipping his arm through Wheeler's he drew him on one side.
+He approached the matter diplomatically.
+
+"I say, Wheeler, I know you're a trump."
+
+This sort of diplomacy was a mistake; Wheeler was at once on the
+alert.
+
+"What are you buttering me up for? Don't you think you're going to get
+anything out of me, because you just aren't; so now you know it."
+
+This was abrupt, not to say a little brutal, perhaps. Bailey perceived
+the error he had made; he changed his tone with singular presence of
+mind.
+
+"Look here, Wheeler, I want you to lend me that sevenpence of yours."
+
+"Then you'll have to want; I like your cheek!"
+
+"Lend me sixpence."
+
+"I won't lend you a sight of a farthing."
+
+"You promised to lend me twopence."
+
+"Oh, did I? Then I won't. I'm going to buy sevenpenn'orth of cocoanut
+candy, and perhaps I'll give you a bit of that, though I don't
+promise, mind; and it'll only be a little bit, anyhow."
+
+"But look here, I want it for something--I do, I really do, or else I
+wouldn't ask you for it."
+
+"What do you want it for?" asked Wheeler, struck by something in the
+other's tone.
+
+"Oh! for something particular."
+
+"What do you want it for? If you tell me, perhaps I'll lend it."
+
+This was a bait; but Bailey did not trust his friend so completely as
+he might have done. He suspected that if he told him what it really
+was wanted for, the story might be all over the playground in a
+minute; and it was possible that his friends might not view his
+intended flight from the heroic point of view from which it appeared
+to him. So he temporized.
+
+"If you'll lend me the sevenpence first, I'll tell you afterwards."
+
+"You catch me at it! What do I want to know what you want it for? I
+know I want it myself, and that's quite enough for me."
+
+Wheeler turned away; Bailey caught him by the arm.
+
+"Lend me the twopence which you promised."
+
+"I won't lend you a brass farthing."
+
+Bertie felt the moment was not propitious. It occurred to him that he
+might pick a quarrel with his friend and fight him, and that when he
+had fought him long enough his friend might see things in a different
+light, and a loan might be arranged. But of this he was by no means
+certain. He was not clear in his own mind as to the amount of
+hammering which would be required to bring about a conversion. He had
+never measured his strength with Wheeler; and it even occurred to him
+that he might be the hammered one, and not his friend. On the whole,
+he thought that he had better leave that scheme untried; sevenpence
+might be bought too dearly.
+
+Baffled in one quarter he tried another. In quest of money he
+buttonholed all the school. But this, again, was a mistaken step. It
+soon got about that Bailey was in search of some one to devour, and,
+in consequence, those who were worth devouring took the hint--they by
+no means showed themselves anxious to be devoured. In spite of his
+repeated efforts, he only met with one success, and that was one of
+which he was scarcely entitled to be proud.
+
+Willie Seymour, Bailey's cousin, has been already mentioned. He was
+the youngster who led Mr. Shane's German grammar on its final road to
+ruin. A little pale-faced boy, certainly not more than nine years old,
+and without even the strength of his years.
+
+Bertie caught him by the jacket.
+
+"Now then, where's that money of yours?"
+
+His temper was not improved by the want of confidence his friends had
+shown, and this was not a case in which he thought delicacy was
+required.
+
+"What money? Bertie, don't! you're hurting my arm!"
+
+"Yes, and I'll hurt it, too! Where's that money of yours? I know
+you've got some."
+
+"I've only got one and fivepence. Mamma sent it me last week to buy a
+birthday present. It was my birthday, you know."
+
+"Oh, was it! Then I'll buy you a birthday present--something spiffing.
+Fork it up!"
+
+"But, Bertie----"
+
+"Fork it up!"
+
+"It's in my desk."
+
+"Then just you let me see your desk. It's never safe to leave money in
+your desk; it might get stolen."
+
+And Bailey dragged his relative indoors. It may be mentioned that
+Willie's mother (Bertie's aunt) had particularly commended her lad to
+Bertie's care. This was the first symptom of a careful disposition he
+had shown.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter IX
+
+                              THE START
+
+
+With tears and sighs Willie Seymour produced his desk for his
+relative's inspection. It was a little rosewood desk which his mother
+had given him to keep his papers in, and envelopes, and his own
+particular pens, and his stamps, and his money, and his treasures.
+Bailey proceeded to inspect it.
+
+"Where's the key?"
+
+"Don't take the money, Bertie. Mamma sent it me to buy a birthday
+present with, and I've spent sevenpence already. It was two shillings
+she sent."
+
+"Oh, you've spent sevenpence, have you! Then I've half a mind to give
+you a licking for spending such a lot. Do you think your mother sent
+you money to chuck about all over the place? She told me to look after
+you, and so I will. Give me the key."
+
+From a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends, which bulged out the
+pockets of his knickerbockers, the key was produced.
+
+"Don't take the money, Bertie!"
+
+Bailey unlocked the desk with a magisterial air.
+
+"If your mother knew that you'd spent sevenpence, what d'ye think
+she'd say to me? She'd say, 'I told you to look after him, and here
+you let him go chucking the money I sent him to buy a birthday present
+into his stomach, and making himself as ill as I don't know what! Is
+that the way to buy a birthday present? Nice affectionate lad you
+are!'"
+
+At this point Bailey, having discovered the one and fivepence, held it
+in his hand.
+
+"I shall put this money into my pockets, and I shall take care of it
+for you, and when you want it, you come to me and ask for it. D'ye
+hear?"
+
+At this point he slipped the money into his trousers pocket.
+
+Willie wept.
+
+"What are you snivelling for? If you don't stop I'll take care of your
+desk as well. Now I think of it, Wheeler wants just such a desk as
+this. I shouldn't be surprised if he gave me sevenpence for it; it
+would just come in handy."
+
+Bailey subjected the desk to a critical examination.
+
+"I'll tell Mr. Fletcher if you take my desk away."
+
+"What, sneak, would you? As it happens, I don't care for you or Mr.
+Fletcher either."
+
+Bertie tucked the desk under his arm and moved to the door. Willie
+flung his head upon his arms and burst into a passion of tears. At the
+door Bertie turned and surveyed the child.
+
+"Here, take your desk. Think I want the thing!"
+
+He flung the desk towards his cousin. Falling on the edge of a form,
+it burst open, and the contents were thrown out of it. Leaving Willie
+to make the best of a bad case, and pick up his ill-used property,
+Bertie marched away with the one and fivepence in his pocket.
+
+That one and fivepence was all the cash he could secure. He made one
+or two efforts in the course of the day to increase his capital by the
+addition of a penny or two, but the efforts were in vain. None of the
+smaller boys had any money; some of the seniors he suspected were in
+possession of funds, but in face of their refusal to oblige him with a
+temporary loan he did not feel justified in taking them by the throats
+and putting into practice any theory of their money or their life. He
+suspected he might get neither; sundry knocks and bruises he might be
+the richer for, but they were riches for which he had no longing. One
+particularly gallant attack he made upon a suspected seat of capital
+does not deserve to go unchronicled.
+
+The suspected seat of capital was Mr. Shane. Chancing to pass the
+schoolroom on his way downstairs, a glimpse he caught of some one
+within brought him to a standstill. He entered; he shut the door
+behind him for precaution's sake, being unwilling that his friends
+should intrude upon what he perceived might be a delicate interview.
+
+In a corner of the schoolroom was Mr. Shane. He sat with his elbows
+resting on the desk and his head resting on his hands. So absorbed was
+he in his own meditations that he paid no heed to Bailey's entrance.
+Bertie watched him in silence for a moment or two, then he made his
+presence known.
+
+"I say, Mr. Shane."
+
+Mr. Shane started and looked up. His face was very pale, there were
+traces of what were suspiciously like tears about his eyes, and his
+whole appearance was as of one who had received a sudden blow. Without
+speaking he stared at Bailey, whose presence evidently took him by
+surprise. Seeing that the other held his peace, Bertie came to the
+point.
+
+"Can you lend me a shilling or two?"
+
+"Lend you a shilling or two!"
+
+"I daresay you'll think it like my cheek to ask you, and so it is;
+but--I'm in an awful hole, I really am. I know I've not been such a
+civil beggar as I might have been, but--I never meant any harm;
+and--I'm sorry about that grammar, I really am; I'd buy you another if
+I'd got the money, upon my word I would--I don't know what I wouldn't
+do for you if you'd lend me a shilling or two--especially if you'd make
+it three."
+
+In spite of himself Bertie grinned, and his eyes glistened at the idea
+of spoiling the usher. Mr. Shane stared at him, as well he might. He
+spoke with a sort of little pause between each word, as though he were
+doubtful if he had heard aright.
+
+"You want me to lend you a shilling or two?--me?"
+
+"Yes. I'll let you have it back as soon as, I can, and I'm in an awful
+hole, or I wouldn't ask you. Do lend it me!"
+
+Mr. Shane stood up, with a curious agitation in his air.
+
+"I haven't got it."
+
+"Not got it I Not got a shilling or two! Oh, I say, come!"
+
+"I haven't got a penny in the world."
+
+"Not got a penny in the world! Oh, I say, aren't you piling it on!"
+
+"Not a penny; not a penny in the world; not one. I'm a beggar!"
+
+Mr. Shane's agitation was so curious, and the air with which he
+proclaimed himself a beggar was so wild, that Bertie's surprise grew
+apace. He wondered whether, as he might himself have phrased it, the
+usher had a tile loose in his head.
+
+"See!" Mr. Shane turned his coat-tail pockets inside out. There was
+nothing in them. "See!" He followed suit with the pockets in his
+trousers. They also were void and empty. "Nothing! nothing! not a sou!
+Mr. Fletcher engaged to pay me sixteen pounds a year. There's fifteen
+shillings owing from last term. I couldn't afford to buy myself a pair
+of boots when I came back. Look at my boots." Mr. Shane held up his
+boots, one after the other. Bertie stared at them; they were very much
+the worse for wear. "And now he tells me that I'm to leave this very
+day, leave in the very middle of the term, without a penny-piece. He
+says he cannot let me have a penny-piece. I've worked hard for my
+money; he knows I've worked hard for my money; he knows I've been
+cruelly used; and yet he sends me away in the middle of the term a
+beggar, and with fifteen shillings owing from last term. What am I to
+do! My mother lives at Braintree. I can't walk all the way to
+Braintree in Essex, especially in such boots as these; and she hasn't
+any money to give me when I get there, and I can't get another
+situation in the middle of the term. It's cruel, cruel, cruel! I'm a
+beggar, and I shall have to go to the workhouse and sleep in the
+casual ward, and break stones before they let me leave in the morning.
+It's wicked cruelty! I don't care who hears me say it, so it is!"
+
+Mr. Shane's agitation, though real enough, was also sufficiently
+grotesque. With his pockets turned inside out, and his collar and
+necktie all awry, he paced about the schoolroom, swinging his arms,
+speaking in his thin, cracked tones, the tears running down his
+cheeks, half choked with passion. It was the grotesque side of the
+usher's woe which appealed to Bailey.
+
+"You don't mean to say Mr. Fletcher won't pay you your wages?"
+
+"I do, I do! He says he hasn't got it; he says he doubts if he has
+five shillings to call his own. What right has he to engage an usher
+if he has not got five shillings of his own? How does he expect to pay
+me, and fifteen shillings owing from last term? How am I to walk to
+Braintree in Essex in these boots without a penny in my pocket? and
+what will my mother say when I get home--if I ever do get home--with
+no money in my pocket, and turned out of a situation in the middle of
+a term? It's a cruel, wicked shame, and I'll shout it out in the
+middle of the road! I don't care what they say, I will! I won't go
+without my money, if it's only the fifteen shillings left owing from
+last term!"
+
+"Then I suppose you can't lend me a shilling or two?"
+
+"Lend you a shilling or two! How can I? It's for you to advance a loan
+to me. Bailey, you've been a wicked boy to me ever since I came, and
+now to come and ask me to lend you money! You're all wicked about the
+place."
+
+"I've got one and fivepence." Bailey held the money in his hand.
+
+"One and fivepence! Bailey, it's your duty to lend me that one and
+fivepence. You can't want money, your parents will send you the means
+to take you home. And here am I without a penny. How am I to walk all
+the way to Braintree in Essex in these boots without a penny in my
+pocket? It is a wicked thing that I should ever have been induced to
+accept such a situation. It's your duty to make amends for your
+uniform bad conduct, and to sympathise with me in my distress. You
+ought to lend me that one and fivepence. Won't you lend it to me,
+Bailey?"
+
+Bertie went through the familiar pantomime of putting his fingers to
+his nose.
+
+"Me lend you one and fivepence--ax your grandmother! You must think me
+jolly green."
+
+He thrust the hand which still held the one and fivepence into his
+trousers pocket, and turning on his heel marched with an air of great
+deliberation to the door. At the door he turned, and again addressed
+the usher.
+
+"If I were you, old Shane, I'd go to Fletcher, and I'd say, 'Fork up,
+Fletcher, or I'll give you one in the eye;' and then if he didn't fork
+up I'd give him a couple of good fine black ones. He'd look nice with
+a couple of black eyes, would Fletcher; and, if you like, I'll come
+with you now and see you do it."
+
+He paused; but seeing that Mr. Shane gave no immediate signs of acting
+on this useful hint he went on,--
+
+"You haven't got the spirit of an old dead donkey. You'd let anybody
+have a kick at you. You're a regular all-round Molly, Shane."
+
+With this frank expression of heart-felt sympathy for Mr. Shane's
+distress he left the room, and banged the door behind him. His
+enterprise, though displaying boldness, had been a failure; he had not
+succeeded in adding to his capital. As he walked away from the
+schoolroom he meditated upon the matter.
+
+"One and fivepence isn't much--not to run away with--but Mr. Bankes
+said he'd only ninepence-halfpenny; I'm better than that. Still, I'd
+like another shilling or two; one and fivepence doesn't go far,
+stretch it how you will. But if I can't get more I'll make it do,
+somehow. If Mr. Bankes managed with ninepence-halfpenny I don't see
+why I shouldn't do with one and fivepence. Something is sure to turn
+up directly I am off."
+
+It occurred to him that perhaps Mr. Bankes might have had something
+else besides his ninepence-halfpenny--something in the shape of food,
+valuables, or extra clothing, or some other unconsidered trifle of
+that kind. Bertie perceived that if he put into execution his plan of
+immediate flight he would have to go as he was, with his one and
+fivepence and nothing else. He had a misty recollection of having read
+somewhere of a young gentleman, just such another hero as himself, who
+started on his exploration of the world with baggage in the shape of a
+red cotton handkerchief, which contained a clean shirt, some bread and
+cheese, and, if his memory served him, a pair of socks which his
+little sister had neatly darned for him on the night before his
+setting out.
+
+Bertie would have to start without even this amount of luggage. Nor
+could he understand that he would be much worse off on that account;
+the bread and cheese might be useful--if he remembered rightly, the
+young gentleman referred to had eaten his bread and cheese about ten
+minutes after starting--but for the shirt and socks he could perceive
+no use whatever. He had a sort of idea that either those sort of
+things would not be required, or else that they could be had for
+asking when he was once out in the world.
+
+But his chief fear was, and it kept him on tenter hooks throughout the
+day, that his grand exploit would be nipped in the bud, altogether
+frustrated, by his being prematurely fetched home. He lived at Upton,
+a little town in Berkshire, not twenty miles away. It would not take
+long for Mr. Fletcher's communication to reach his home, and it was
+quite within the range of possibility that a messenger would be
+immediately despatched to fetch him. In that case he would sleep that
+night in a paternal bed, and farewell to the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+The flitting had already commenced. By the afternoon some of the boys,
+who lived close by, had already gone. The packing progressed briskly.
+He had seen with his own eyes his boxes locked and corded. It was with
+very mixed sensations that he had himself assisted at the process.
+Within those well-worn receptacles was he locking and cording the Land
+of Golden Dreams! At the mere thought of such a thing he could have
+shed unheroic tears. At any moment he might be called, he might be
+greeted by a familiar face, he might be whirled away in a cab at the
+rate of four or five miles an hour, with his luggage on the roof of
+the vehicle, and then--farewell to the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+He might have put an end to his uncertainty by starting at once on his
+progress through the world. But he had made up his mind that that was
+not the thing. To run away in broad daylight, like an urchin who had
+stolen a twopenny loaf, with half a dozen yelping curs at his heels
+and not impossibly the country folks all grinning--who could connect
+romance with such an undignified departure? No, night was the thing
+for him--silent, mysterious night; and, above all, the witching hour.
+That was the time for romance! Under the cold white moon, and across
+the moonlit meadows, when all the world was sleeping--then he could
+conceive a flight into the world of mystery and of magic, and of Lands
+of Golden Dreams. So he had decided that as nearly as possible
+midnight should be the moment for his adventures to begin.
+
+The choice of such an hour put difficulties in his way. First of all,
+there was the difficulty of being sure of the time. He did not himself
+possess a watch, and he could not rely upon some distant church clock
+informing him of the passage of the night. Fortunately he remembered
+that Tom Graham, who slept in a bed next door but one to his,
+possessed a watch. He would time his departure by Tom Graham's watch.
+Then there was the difficulty of egress--how was he to get away? In
+his strong desire to play the more heroic part, he would have liked to
+have dropped from the window of his bedroom some thirty-five feet on
+to the paving-stones of the courtyard below. But then he reflected
+that he would not improbably break his neck, and it would be just as
+well not to begin his adventures by doing that; that sort of thing
+would come in its proper place a little later on. He might knot his
+sheets together, and form an impromptu rope, and descend by means of
+that: there were charms about the idea which commended themselves to
+him. He had seen a picture somewhere of a gallant youth descending by
+means of such a rope a tower apparently a mile or two in height; it
+was an unpleasant night and the youth was whirled hither and thither
+by the tempestuous winds. Had his bedroom been a couple of miles
+from the ground, why then--Bailey smacked his lips, and his eyes
+glistened--but as it wasn't he discarded the idea. He sighed to think
+that they build none of those lofty towers now--at least, so far as
+he was aware.
+
+No; for the present it was sufficient to get away. Let him first get
+clear away, and then he would have adventures fast enough. He decided
+that the old familiar schoolroom window would suffice for the
+occasion. He would get out of that.
+
+But the chief difficulty he had to face was the terrible risk which
+existed of his being fetched away. One boy after another went; hour
+after hour passed; a bare handful of young gentlemen remained. They
+had dinner, such as it was; but Bertie had lost his appetite, and was
+for the nonce contented with meagre fare. They had tea, which was
+postponed to the latest possible hour, and which when it came
+consisted of a liquid which such boys as partook of it declared was
+concocted of the tea leaves which had remained at breakfast, and which
+was accompanied by thick slices of unbuttered bread. But Bertie never
+grumbled; he ate his bread and he drank his tea without suggesting
+anything against its quality.
+
+The evening passed. The number of boys was still more diminished, yet
+for Bailey no one came. The clock pointed to an hour at which it was
+declared that no one could come now--it was half-past nine. The usual
+hour for bed was half-past eight, but the boys had been kept up in the
+expectation and possible hope that at Mecklemburg House it would not
+be necessary for them to go to bed at all. Now they were ordered to
+their rooms.
+
+Bertie could have danced, and sung, and stood on his head, and
+comported himself generally like a juvenile madman; but he refrained,
+His time was coming; he would be able to comport himself as he liked
+in two hours and a half, but at present the word was caution.
+
+It was arranged that all the boys who remained should sleep in the
+same room. There were only five: Edgar Wheeler, Tom Graham, little
+Willie Seymour, a boy whose parents were in India named Hagen, and
+commonly called Blackamoor, and Bertie Bailey. The first into bed was
+Bailey. Not a word was to be got out of him edgeways. He was a model
+of good behaviour. He even pressed the others to hurry into bed,
+to go to sleep, to let him sleep. They slept long before he did.
+He lay awake tingling all over. He listened to their regular
+respirations--Hagen was a loud snorer and always set up a signal of
+distress--and when he was sure they were asleep he hugged himself in
+bed. Then he sat up, being careful to make as little noise as
+possible, and in the darkness peered at his sleeping comrades. Their
+gentle breathing and Hagen's stentorian snores were music in his ears.
+Then he lay back in bed again, biding his time.
+
+He heard a clock strike the half-hour--half-past ten. It was a church
+clock. He wondered which. The night was calm, and the sound travelled
+clearly through the air; it might have been a long way off. And
+then--then he went to sleep.
+
+It was not at all what he intended--very much the other way. He had
+supposed that he had only to make up his mind to lie awake till twelve
+o'clock to do it. But he was wrong; the strain at which he had kept
+his faculties through the day had told upon him more than he had
+supposed.
+
+He awoke with a start--with a consciousness that something was wrong.
+He listened for a moment, wondering what strange thing had roused him.
+Then he remembered with a flash. The time had gone and he had slept.
+
+With a half-stifled cry he sprang up in bed. What time was it? Had he
+really slept? Only for a minute or two, he felt sure. He groped his
+way to Graham's bed. That young gentleman slept with his watch beneath
+his pillow; Bailey was awkward in his attempts to get at it without
+waking the sleepy owner.
+
+He got it, and took it to the window that he might see the time.
+Half-past two! soon it would be light--Bertie was almost inclined to
+think it was getting lighter now. He gave a cry of rage, and the watch
+dropped from his hand to the floor. Startled, he turned to see if the
+sleepers were awakened by the noise. He held his breath to listen.
+They slumbered as before. He picked up the watch and placed it on the
+mantelshelf, not caring to run the risk of rousing Graham by replacing
+it beneath his pillow. As he did so, he noticed that the glass was
+broken, shattered in the fall.
+
+With great rapidity he dressed himself, only pausing for a moment to
+see that the one and fivepence was safe. His slippers were packed; he
+had come to bed in his boots. Holding them in his hand, in his
+stockinged feet he stole across the room, carefully turned the handle
+of the door, went out, and shut the door behind him.
+
+He met with no accident on his way to the schoolroom. Within five
+minutes of his leaving his bed he was standing among the desks and
+forms. The blinds had not been drawn: the moonlight flooded the
+room--at any rate, the moon had not gone down. He was going to carry
+out so much of his plans--he was to fly through a moonlit world.
+Perhaps after all the little accident which had caused him to shut his
+eyes was not of much importance. Certainly, the sleep had refreshed
+him; he felt capable of making for the Land of Golden Dreams without
+requiring to pause upon the way.
+
+Among the moonlit desks and forms he put his boots on; laced them up;
+then, with a careful hand, slipped the hasp of the familiar window,
+raised the sash, got out, and lowered himself to the ground. It was
+only when he was on the ground that he remembered that he was without
+a cap. He put his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and
+produced an old cricket cap which he had privately secured when he was
+supposed to be assisting at the packing.
+
+Then he started for the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter X
+
+                         ANOTHER LITTLE DRIVE
+
+
+He ran across the courtyard, glancing up at the silent house behind
+him. In the moonlight Mecklemburg House looked like a house of the
+dead. Through the gate, and out into the road; then, for a moment,
+Bertie paused.
+
+"Which way shall I go?"
+
+He stood, hesitating, looking up and down the road. In his anxiety to
+reach the Land of Golden Dreams he had not paused to consider which
+was the road he had to take to get there. Such a detail had not
+occurred to him. He had taken it for granted that the road would
+choose itself; now he perceived that he had to choose the road.
+
+"I'll go to London--something's sure to turn up when I get there. It
+always does. In London all sorts of things happen to a fellow."
+
+His right hand in his pocket, clasping his one and fivepence, he
+turned his face towards Cobham. He had a vague idea that to reach town
+one had to get to Kingston, and he knew that through Cobham and Esher
+was the road to Kingston. If he kept to the road the way was easy, he
+had simply to keep straight on. He had pictured himself flying across
+the moonlit fields; but he concluded that, for the present, at any
+rate, he had better confine himself to the plain broad road.
+
+The weather was glorious. It was just about that time when the night
+is about to give way to the morning, and there is that peculiar chill
+abroad in the world which, even in the height of summer, ushers in the
+dawn. It was as light as day--indeed, very soon it would be day;
+already in the eastern heavens were premonitory gleams of the
+approaching sun. But at present a moon which was almost at the full
+held undisputed reign in the cloudless sky. So bright were her rays
+that the stars were dimmed. All the world was flooded with her light.
+All was still, except the footsteps of the boy beating time upon the
+road. Not a sound was heard, nor was there any living thing in sight
+with the exception of the lad. Bertie Bailey had it all to himself.
+
+Bertie strode along the Cobham road at a speed which he believed to be
+first rate, but which was probably under four miles an hour. Every now
+and then he broke into a trot, but as a rule he confined himself to
+walking. Conscious that he would not be missed till several hours had
+passed, he told himself that he would have plenty of time to place
+himself beyond reach of re-capture before pursuit could follow. Secure
+in this belief, every now and then he stopped and looked about him on
+the road.
+
+He was filled with a sense of strange excitement. He did not show this
+in his outward bearing, for nature had formed his person in an
+impassive mould, and he was never able to dispossess himself of an air
+of phlegm. An ordinary observer would have said that this young
+gentleman was constitutionally heavy and dull, and impervious to
+strong feeling of any sort. Mr. Fletcher, for instance, had been wont
+to declare that Bailey was his dullest pupil, and in continual
+possession of the demons of obstinacy and sulkiness. Yet, on this
+occasion, at least, Bailey was on fire with a variety of feelings to
+every one of which Mr. Fletcher would have deemed him of necessity a
+stranger.
+
+It seemed to him, as he walked on and on, that he walked in fairyland.
+He was conscious of a thousand things which were imperceptible to his
+outward sense. His heart seemed too light for his bosom; to soar out
+of it; to bear him to a land of visions. That Land of Golden Dreams
+towards which he travelled he had already reached with his mind's eye,
+and that before he had gone a mile upon the road to Cobham.
+
+Mecklemburg House was already a thing of the past That petty poring
+over books, which some call study, and which Mr. George Washington
+Bankes had declared was such a culpable waste of time, was gone for
+ever. No more books for him; no more school; no more rubbish of any
+kind. The world was at his feet for him to pick and choose.
+
+By the time he had got to Cobham he was making up his mind as to the
+particular line of heroism to which he would apply himself. The old
+town, for Cobham calls itself a town, was still and silent, apparently
+unconscious of the glorious morning which was dawning on the world,
+and certainly unconscious of the young gentleman who was passing
+through its pleasant street, scheming schemes which, when brought to
+full fruition, would proclaim him a hero in the sight of a universe of
+men.
+
+"I'll be a highwayman; I'd like to be; I will be. If a coach and four
+were to come along the road this minute I'd stop the horses. Yes! and
+I'd set one of them loose, and I'd mount it, and I'd go to the window
+of the coach, and I'd say, 'Stand and deliver.' And I'd make them hand
+over all they'd got, watches, purses, jewellery, everything--I
+shouldn't care if it was £10,000."
+
+He fingered the one and fivepence in his pocket; the sound of the
+rattling coppers fired his blood.
+
+"And then I'd dash away on the horse's back, and I'd buy a ship, and
+I'd man it with a first-rate crew, and I'd sink it in the middle of
+the sea. And, first of all, I'd fill the long-boat with everything
+that I could want--guns, and pistols, and revolvers, and swords, and
+bullets, and powder, and cartridges and things--and I'd get into it
+alone, and I'd say farewell to the sinking ship and crew, and I'd row
+off to a desert island, and I'd stop there five-and-twenty years. Yes;
+and I'd tame all the birds and animals and things, and I'd be happy as
+a king. And then I'd come away."
+
+He did not pause to consider how he was to come away; but that was a
+detail too trivial to deserve consideration. By this time Cobham was
+being left behind; but he saw nothing save the life which was to be
+after he had left that desert isle.
+
+"I'd go to Sherwood Forest, and I'd live under the greenwood tree, and
+I'd form a band of robbers, and I'd have them dressed in green, and
+I'd seize the Archbishop of Canterbury, and I'd make him fight me with
+single-sticks, and I'd let the beggars go, and I'd give the poor all
+the booty that I got."
+
+What the rest of the band would say to this generous distribution of
+their hard-earned gains was another detail which escaped
+consideration.
+
+"And I'd be the oppressor of the rich and the champion of the poor,
+and I'd make everybody happy." How the rich were to be made happy by
+oppression it is difficult to see; but so few systems of philosophy
+bear a rigorous examination. "And I'd have peace and plenty through
+the land, and I'd have lots of fighting, and if there was anybody in
+prison I'd break the prisons open and I'd let the prisoners out, and
+I'd be Ruler of the Greenwood Tree."
+
+His thoughts turned to Jack the Giant-Killer. By now the day was
+really breaking, and with the rising sun his spirits rose still
+higher. The moonlight merging into the sunshine filled the country
+with a rosy haze, which was just the kind of thing for magic.
+
+"I wish there still were fairies."
+
+If he only had had the eyes no fairyland would have been more
+beautiful than the world just then.
+
+"No, I don't exactly wish that there were fairies--fairies are such
+stuff; but I wish that there were giants and all that kind of thing.
+And I wish that I had a magic sword, and a purse that was always more
+full the more you emptied it, and that I could walk ten thousand miles
+a day. I wish that you had only got to wish for a thing to get
+it--wouldn't I just start wishing! I don't know what I wouldn't
+wish for."
+
+He did not. The catalogue would have filled a volume.
+
+"But the chief thing for which I'd wish would be to be exactly where I
+am, and to be going exactly where I'm going to."
+
+He laughed, and thrust his hands deeper in his pockets when he thought
+of this, and was so possessed by his emotions that he kicked up his
+heels and began to dance a sort of fandango in the middle of the road.
+He perceived that it was a pleasant thing to wish to be exactly where
+he was, and to be so well satisfied with the journey's end he had in
+view. It is not every boy who is bound for the Land of Golden Dreams;
+and especially by the short cut which reaches it by way of the Cobham
+road.
+
+So far he had not met a single human being, nor seen a sign, nor heard
+a sound of one. But when he had fairly left Cobham in the rear, and
+was yet engaged in the performance of that dance which resembled the
+fandango, he heard behind him the sound of wheels rapidly approaching.
+They were yet a considerable distance off, but they were approaching
+so swiftly that one's first thought was that a luckless driver was
+being run away with. When Bertie heard them first he started. His
+thought was of pursuit; his impulse was to scramble into an adjoining
+field, and to hide behind a hedge. It would be terrible to be
+re-captured in the initiatory stage of his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+But his alarm vanished when he turned and looked behind him. The
+vehicle approaching contained a friend. Even at that distance he
+recognised it as the dog-cart of Mr. George Washington Bankes. The
+ungainly-looking beast flying at such a terrific pace along the lonely
+road was none other than the redoubtable Mary Anne.
+
+In a remarkably short space of time the vehicle was level with Bertie.
+For a moment the boy wondered if he had been recognised; but the doubt
+did not linger long, for with startling suddenness Mary Anne was
+brought to a halt.
+
+"Hallo! Who's that? Haven't I seen you before? Turn round, you
+youngster, and let me see your face. I know the cut of your jib, or
+I'm mistaken."
+
+Bertie turned. He looked at Mr. Bankes and Mr. Bankes looked at him.
+Mr. George Washington Bankes whistled.
+
+"Whew--w--w, if it isn't the boy who stood up to the lout. What's your
+name?"
+
+"Bailey, sir; Bertie Bailey."
+
+"Oh, yes; Bailey! Early hours, Bailey--taking a stroll, eh? What in
+thunder brings you here this time of day? I thought good boys like you
+were fast asleep in bed."
+
+Bailey looked sheepish, and felt it. There was something in the tone
+of Mr. Bankes' voice which was a little trying. Bertie hung his head,
+and held his peace.
+
+"Lost your tongue? Poor little dear! Speak up. What are you doing here
+this time of day?"
+
+"If you please, sir, I'm running away."
+
+"Running away!"
+
+For a moment Mr. Bankes started. Then he burst into a loud and
+continued roar of laughter, which had an effect upon Bertie very
+closely resembling that of an extinguisher upon a candle.
+
+"I say, Bailey, what are you running away for?"
+
+Under the circumstances Bertie felt this question cruel. When he had
+last seen Mr. Bankes the question had been put the other way. He had
+been treated as a poor-spirited young gentleman because he had not run
+away already. Plucking up courage, he looked up at his questioner.
+
+"You told me to run away."
+
+The only immediate answer was another roar of laughter. Something very
+like tears came into the boy's eyes, and his face assumed that
+characteristically sullen expression for which he was famous. This was
+not the sort of treatment he had expected.
+
+"You don't mean to say--now look me in the face, youngster--you don't
+mean to say that you're running away because I told you to?"
+
+The last words of the question were spoken very deliberately, with a
+slight pause between each. Bertie's answer was to the point. He looked
+up at Mr. Bankes with that sullen, bull-dog look of his, and said,--
+
+"I do."
+
+"And where do you think you're running to?"
+
+"To the Land of Golden Dreams."
+
+There was a sullen obstinacy about the lad's tone, as though the
+confession was extracted from him against his will.
+
+"To the Land of Golden Dreams! Well! Here, you'd better get up. I'll
+give you a lift upon the road? and there's a word or two I'd like to
+say as we are going."
+
+Bertie climbed up to the speaker's side, and Mary Anne was again in
+motion. The swift travelling through the sweet, fresh morning was
+pleasant; and as the current of air dashed against his cheeks Bertie's
+heart began to re-ascend a little. For some moments not a word was
+spoken; but Bertie felt that Mr. Bankes' big black eyes wandered from
+Mary Anne to him, and from him to Mary Anne, with a half-mocking,
+half-curious expression.
+
+"I say, boy, are any of your family lunatics?"
+
+The question was scarcely courteous. Bertie's lips shut close.
+
+"No."
+
+"Quite sure? Now just you think? Anybody on your mother's side just a
+little touched? They say insanity don't spring to a head at once, but
+gathers strength through successive generations."
+
+Bailey did not quite understand what was meant; but knowing it was
+something not exactly complimentary he held his peace.
+
+"Now--straight out--you don't mean to say you're running away because
+I told you to?"
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"And for nothing else?"
+
+Bertie paused for a moment to consider.
+
+"I don't know about nothing else, but I shouldn't have thought of it
+if you hadn't told me to."
+
+"Then it strikes me the best thing I can do is to turn round and drive
+you back again."
+
+"I won't go."
+
+Mr. Bankes laughed. There was such a sullen meaning in the boy's slow
+utterance.
+
+"Oh! won't you? What'll you do?"
+
+In an instant Bertie had risen from his seat, and if Mr. Bankes had
+not been very quick in putting his arm about him he would have sprung
+out upon the road. As it was, Mr. Bankes, taken by surprise, gave an
+unintentional tug at the left rein, and had he not corrected his error
+with wonderful dexterity Mary Anne would have landed the trap and its
+occupants in a convenient ditch.
+
+"Don't you try that on again," said Mr. Bankes, retaining his hold on
+the lad.
+
+"Don't you say you'll drive me back again."
+
+"Here's a fighting cock. There have been lunatics in the family--I
+know there have. Don't be a little idiot. Sit still."
+
+"Promise you won't drive me back."
+
+"And supposing I won't promise you, what then?"
+
+Bertie's only answer was to give a sudden twist, and before Mr. Bankes
+had realized what he intended he had slipped out of his grasp, and was
+sprawling on the road. Fortunately the trap had been brought to a
+standstill, for had Bertie carried out his original design of
+springing out with Mary Anne going at full speed, the probabilities
+are that he would have brought his adventures to a final termination
+on the spot. Mr. Bankes stared for a moment, and then laughed.
+
+"Well, of all the young ones ever I heard tell of!"
+
+Then, seeing that Bertie had picked himself up, and was preparing to
+escape by scrambling through a quickset hedge into a field of uncut
+hay--
+
+"Stop!" he cried. "I won't take you back. I promise you upon my honour
+I won't. A lad of your kidney's born to be hanged; and if it's hanging
+you've made up your mind to, I'm not the man to stop you."
+
+The lad eyed him doubtfully.
+
+"You promise you'll let me do as I please?"
+
+"I swear it, my bantam cock. You shall do as you please, and go where
+you please. I can't stop mooning here all day; jump in, and let's be
+friends again. I'm square, upon my honour."
+
+The lad resumed his former seat; Mary Anne was once more started.
+
+"Next time you feel it coming on, why, tip me the wink, and I'll pull
+up. It's a pity that a neck like yours should be broken before the
+proper time; and if you were to jump out while Mary Anne was
+travelling like this, why, there'd be nothing left to do but to pick
+up the pieces."
+
+As Bertie vouchsafed no answer, after a pause Mr. Bankes went on.
+
+"Now, Bailey, joking aside, what is the place you're making for?"
+
+"I'm going to London."
+
+"London. Got any friends there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ever been there before?"
+
+"I've been there with father."
+
+"Know anything about it?"
+
+"I don't know much."
+
+"So I should say, by the build of you. I shouldn't be surprised if you
+know more when you come back again--if you ever do come back again, my
+bantam. Shall I tell you what generally happens to boys like you who
+go up to London without knowing much about it, and without any friends
+there? They generally"--Mr. Bankes, as it were, punctuated these
+words, laying an emphasis on each--"go under, and they stop under, and
+there's an end of them."
+
+He paused; if for a reply, in vain, for there was none from Bailey.
+
+"Do you think London's the Land of Golden Dreams? Well, it is; that's
+exactly what it is--it's the Land of Golden Dreams, and the dreams are
+short ones, and when you wake from them you're up to your neck in
+filth, and you wish that you were dead. For they're nothing else but
+dreams, and the reality is dirt, and shame, and want, and misery, and
+death."
+
+Again he paused; and again there was no reply from Bertie. "How much
+money have you got?"
+
+"One and fivepence."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well! well! I say nothing, but I think a lot. And do you mean to tell
+me that you're off to London with the sum of one shilling and
+fivepence in your pocket?"
+
+"You said you ran away with ninepence-halfpenny."
+
+"Well, that's a score! And so I did, but circumstances alter cases,
+and that was the foolishest thing that ever I did."
+
+"You said it was the most sensible thing you'd ever done."
+
+"You've a remarkable memory--a remarkable memory; and if you keep it
+up you'll improve as you go on. If I said that, I was a liar--I was
+the biggest liar that ever lived. I wonder if you could go through the
+sort of thing that I have done?"
+
+Mr. Bankes' eyes were again fixed on Bertie, as though he would take
+his measure.
+
+"Most men would have been dead a dozen times. I don't know that I
+haven't been; I know I've often wished that I could have died just
+once--that I could have been wiped clean out. God save you, young one,
+from such a life as mine. Pray God to pull you up in time."
+
+Another pause and then--
+
+"What's your plans?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"I shouldn't think you did by the look of you. And how long do you
+suppose you're going to live, on the sum of one and fivepence?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Well, I should say that with economy you could manage to live two
+hours--perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less; that's to say, an
+hour before you have your dinner and an hour after. Some could manage
+to stretch it out to tea, but you're not one. And when the money's
+gone how do you suppose you're going to get some more?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Now don't you think that I'd better turn Mary Anne right round, and
+take you back again? You've had a pleasant little drive, you know, and
+the morning air's refreshing."
+
+"I won't go, and you promised that you wouldn't."
+
+"You'll wish you had about this time to-morrow; and perhaps a little
+before. However, a promise is a promise, so on we go. Know where you
+are?"
+
+Bailey did not; Mr. Bankes had turned some sharp corners, and having
+left the highroad behind was guiding Mary Anne along a narrow lane in
+which there was scarcely room for two vehicles to pass abreast.
+
+"These are the Ember lanes. There's East Molesey right ahead, then the
+Thames, then Hampton Court, and then I'll have to leave you. I've come
+round this way to stretch the old girl's legs." This was a graceful
+allusion to Mary Anne. "My shortest cut would have been across Walton
+Bridge, as I'm off to Kempton to see a trial of a horse in which I'm
+interested; so when I get to Hampton Court I'll have to go some of my
+way back again. Now make up your mind. There isn't much time left to
+do it in. Say the word, and I'll take you all the way along with me,
+and land you back just where you started. Take a hint, and think a bit
+before you speak."
+
+Apparently Bertie took the hint, for it was a moment or two before he
+answered.
+
+"I'm not going back."
+
+"Very well. That's the last time of asking, so I wish you joy on your
+journey to the Land of the Golden Dreams."
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XI
+
+                         THE ORIGINAL BADGER
+
+
+As Mr. Bankes spoke, Mary Anne dashed over the little bridge which
+spans the Mole, and in another second they were passing through East
+Molesey. Nothing was said as they raced through the devious village
+street. The world in East Molesey was just beginning to think of
+waking up. A few labourers were visible, on their road to work. When
+they reached the river, some of the watermen were preparing their
+boats, putting them ship-shape for the day, and on Tagg's Island there
+were signs of life.
+
+Over Hampton Court Bridge flew Mary Anne; past the barracks, where
+there were more signs of life, and where Hussars were recommencing the
+slightly monotonous routine of a warrior's life, and then the mare was
+brought to a sudden standstill at the corner of the green.
+
+"The parting of the ways--you go yours, and I go mine, and I rather
+reckon, young one, it won't be long before you wish there'd been no
+parting, and we'd both rolled on together. Which way are you going to
+London?"
+
+"I thought about going through Kingston."
+
+"All right, you can either go through Bushy Park here, or you can go
+Kingston way. But don't let me say a word about the road you go,
+especially as it don't seem to me to matter which it is--round by the
+North Pole and Timbuctoo for all I care, for you're in no sort of
+hurry, and all you want is to get there in the end."
+
+"Can't I get to Kingston by the river?"
+
+"Certainly. You go through the barrack yard there, and through the
+little gate which you'll see over at the end on your right, and you'll
+be on the towing-path. And then you've only got to follow your nose
+and you'll get to Kingston Bridge, and there you are. The nearest is
+by Frog's Walk here, along by the walls, but please yourself."
+
+"I'd sooner go by the river."
+
+"All right."
+
+Mr. Bankes put his hand into his trousers pocket, and when he pulled
+it out it was full of money.
+
+"Look here, it seems that I've had a hand in this little scrape,
+though I'd no more idea you'd swallow every word of what I said than I
+had of flying. You're about as fine a bunch of greens as ever I
+encountered, and that's the truth. But, anyhow, I had a hand, and as
+I'm a partner in the spree I'm not going to sort you all the kicks and
+collar all the halfpence. And I tell you"--Mr. Bankes raised his voice
+to a very loud key, as though Bailey was arguing the point instead of
+sitting perfectly still--"I tell you that for a boy like you to cut
+and run with the sum of one and fivepence in his pocket is a thing I'm
+not going to stand. No, not on any account, so hold out your hand, you
+leather-headed noodle, and pocket this."
+
+Bertie held out his hand, Mr. Bankes counted into it five separate
+sovereigns.
+
+"Now sling your hook!"
+
+Before Bertie had a chance to thank him, or even to realize the sudden
+windfall he had encountered, Mr. Bankes had caught hold of him, lifted
+him bodily from his seat, and placed him on the road. Mary Anne had
+started, and the trap was flying past the Cardinal Wolsey, on the
+Hampton Road. Left standing there, with the five sovereigns tightly
+grasped in his palm, Bailey decided that Mr. Bankes had rather a
+sudden way of doing things.
+
+He remained motionless a minute watching the receding trap. Perhaps he
+expected, perhaps he hoped, that Mr. Bankes would look round and wave
+him a parting greeting; but there was nothing of the kind. In a very
+short space of time the trap was out of sight and he was left alone.
+Just for that instant, just for that first moment, in which he
+realized his solitude, he regretted that he had not acted on his late
+companion's advice, and pursued the journey with Mary Anne. Then he
+looked at the five pounds he held in his hand.
+
+"Well, here's a go!"
+
+He could scarcely believe his eyes. He took up each of the coins
+separately and examined it. Then he placed them in a low on his
+extended palm, and stared. Their radiance dazzled him.
+
+"Catch me going back while I've got all this, I should rather like
+somebody to see me at it. Five pounds!" Here was a long-drawn
+respiration. "Fancy him tipping me five pounds! I call that something
+like a tip. Won't I spend it! Just fancy having five pounds to spend
+on what you like! Well, I never did!"
+
+"Hallo, you boy, got anything nice to look at?"
+
+Bertie turned. A soldier, in a considerable state of undress, was
+standing a few yards behind him, watching his proceedings.
+
+"What's that to you?" asked Bertie.
+
+He put both his hands into his trousers pockets, keeping tight hold on
+the precious sovereigns, and turning, walked up the barrack yard. As
+he passed, the soldier grinned; but Bertie condescended to pay no
+heed.
+
+"If I'd had a fortune left to me, I'd stand a man a drink, if it was
+only the price of half a pint."
+
+This was what the soldier shouted after Bertie. One or two of the
+troopers who were engaged in various ways, and who were all more or
+less undressed, looking very different from the dashing pictures of
+military splendour which they would shortly present upon parade,
+stared at the boy as he went by, but no one spoke to him.
+
+Once on the towing-path, he turned his face Kingston-wards and
+hastened on. These five sovereigns burnt a hole in his pocket. When
+his capital had been represented by the sum of one and fivepence he
+had been dimly conscious that it would be necessary to be careful in
+his outlay. He had even outlined a system of expenditure. But five
+pounds!
+
+They represented boundless wealth. He had been once presented by a
+grateful patient of his father's with a tip of half a sovereign. That
+was the largest sum of which he had ever been in possession at one and
+the same time, and no sooner had the donor's back been turned than his
+mother had confiscated five shillings of that. She declared that it
+was intended the half-sovereign should be divided among his brothers
+and sisters, and the five shillings went in the division. But five
+pounds! What were five shillings, or even half a sovereign, to five
+pounds.
+
+If Mr. George Washington Bankes had desired to dissipate whatever
+effect his words of warning might have had he could not have chosen a
+surer method. As the possessor of five pounds, Bertie's belief in the
+land of golden dreams was stronger than ever. The pieces of golden
+money had as good as transported him thither upon the spot.
+
+His spirits rose to boiling-pitch as he walked beside the river. The
+sunshine flooded all the world, and danced upon the glancing waters,
+and filled his heart with joy. As he looked up, the words, "five
+pounds," seemed streaming in radiant golden letters across the sunlit
+sky.
+
+Nearly opposite Ditton church he sat down on the grass to revel in his
+fancies. The castles which he built, the schemes he schemed, the
+future he foretold! No one passing by, and seeing a boy with an
+apparently sullen face, sprawling on the grass, would have had the
+least conception of the world of imagination in which, at that moment,
+he lived and moved, and had his being.
+
+He lay there perhaps more than an hour. He might have lain there even
+longer had not two things recalled him to the world of fact. The first
+was a growing consciousness that he was hungry; and the other, the
+crossing of the ferry. The Ditton ferry-boat made its first
+appearance, with two or three young fellows who had seemingly made the
+passage with a view of enjoying an early morning bathe on the more
+secluded Middlesex side. When they got out, Bertie got in. Not that he
+wanted to go to Ditton, nor that he even knew the name of the place
+which he saw upon the other side of the water, but that he fancied the
+row across the stream. When he was in the boat a thought struck him.
+
+"How much will you row me to Kingston for?"
+
+"I can't take you in this boat, this here's the ferry-boat; but I can
+let you have a boat the other side, and a chap to row you, and I'll
+take you for--do you want to go there and back?"
+
+"No; I want to stop at Kingston."
+
+"Are you going to the fair there? I hear there's to be a fine fair
+this time, and a circus, and all."
+
+Bertie had neither heard of the fair nor of the circus; but the idea
+was tempting.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if I did go. How much will you row me for?"
+
+The ferryman hesitated. He was probably debating within himself as to
+the capacity of the young gentleman's pockets, and also not improbably
+as to his capacity for being bled.
+
+"I'll row you there for five shillings."
+
+But Bertie was not quite so verdant as he looked.
+
+"I'll give you eighteenpence."
+
+"Well, you're a cool hand, you are, to offer a man eighteenpence for
+what he wants five shillings for. But I don't want to be hard upon a
+young gentleman what is a young gentleman. I'll row you there for
+four; a man's got to live, you know, and it isn't as though you wanted
+a boat to row yourself."
+
+But Bertie was unable to see his way to paying four. Finally a bargain
+was struck for half a crown. Then a difficulty occurred as to change,
+and Bertie entrusted one of his precious sovereigns to the ferryman to
+get changed at the Swan. Then a boat was launched, a lad not very much
+older than Bertie was placed in charge, the fare was paid in advance,
+and a start was made for Kingston.
+
+By the time they reached that ancient town, Bertie was hungry in
+earnest. The walk, the drive, and now the row in the freshness of the
+early morning had combined to give him an appetite which, at
+Mecklemburg House, would have been regarded with considerable
+disapproval. Now, too, the short commons of the day before were
+remembered; and as Bertie fingered the money in his pockets he thought
+with no slight satisfaction of the good things in the eating and
+drinking line which it would buy.
+
+He was landed at his own request on the Middlesex side of Kingston
+Bridge, and having generously made the lad who had rowed him richer by
+the sum of sixpence, he started, with renewed vigour, to cross the
+bridge into the town. No sooner had he crossed than a coffee-shop met
+his eye. It was the very thing he wanted. With the air of a capitalist
+he entered and ordered a sumptuous repast--coffee, bread and butter,
+ham and eggs. Having made a hearty meal,--and a hearty meal was a
+subject on which he had ideas of his own, for he followed up the ham
+and eggs with half a dozen open tarts and a jam puff or two, buying
+half a pound of sweets to eat when he got outside,--he paid the bill
+and sallied forth.
+
+It was cattle-market day, and unusual business seemed to be doing. Not
+only was the market-place crowded with live stock, but they overflowed
+into the neighbouring streets. For the present, Bertie was content to
+watch the proceedings. In the position of a capitalist he could travel
+to London in state and at his leisure. Just now his mind was running
+on what the ferryman had said about the circus and the fair. He could
+go to London at any time. It was not a place which was likely to run
+away. But circuses and fairs were things which were quick to go, and
+once gone were gone for ever. Bertie resolved that he would commence
+his journey by seeing both the circus and the fair.
+
+Nor was his resolution weakened by a joyous procession which passed
+through the Kingston street.
+
+"BADGER'S ROYAL POPULAR COSMOPOLITAN AND WORLD-FAMED HIPPODROME" was
+an imposing title for a circus, but not more imposing than the glories
+revealed by that procession.
+
+"_Supported by all the greatest artists in the world chosen from all
+the nations of the universe_" was the continuation of the title, and,
+judging from the astonishing variety of ladies and gentlemen who rode
+the horses, who bestrode the camels, who crowded the triumphal cars,
+and who ran along on foot distributing handbills among the crowd, it
+really seemed that the statement was justified by fact. There were
+Chinamen whose pigtails seemed quite real; there were gentlemen of
+colour who seemed warranted to wash; there were individuals with
+beards and moustaches of an altogether foreign character; and there
+were ladies of the most wondrous and enchanting beauty, dressed in the
+most picturesque and amazing styles. Bertie Bailey, at any rate, was
+persuaded that it would be absurd for him to think of going on to town
+till he had attended at least one performance of Badger's Royal
+Popular Cosmopolitan and World-famed Hippodrome.
+
+He followed the procession to the fair field. And there, although it
+was not yet noon, the fair was already in full swing. All those
+immortal entertainments without which a fair would not be a fair were
+liberally provided. There were shows, and shooting galleries, and
+bottle-throwing establishments, and seas upon land, and resplendent
+roundabouts, and stalls at which were vended goods of the very best
+quality; and all those joys and raptures which go to make a fair in
+every part of the world in which fairs are known.
+
+But Bertie cared for none of these things. All his soul was fixed upon
+the circus. He attended the performance. As befitted a young gentleman
+of fortune he occupied a front seat, price two shillings. A
+hypercritical spectator might have suggested that the procession had
+been the best part of the show. But this was not the case in Bertie's
+eyes. He was enraptured with the feats of skill and daring which he
+witnessed in the ring. Only one consideration marred his complete
+enjoyment. Unfortunately he could not make up his mind whether he
+would rather be the gentleman who, disdaining all ordinary modes of
+horsemanship, standing upon the backs of two cream-coloured steeds,
+with streaming tails, dashed round the ring; or the clown whose
+business it was--a business which he seemed to think a pleasure--to
+keep the audience in a roar. He was not so much struck by a gentleman
+who performed marvels on a flying trapeze; nor by the surefootedness
+of a lady who walked upon an "invisible wire,"--which was, in this
+case, a rope about the thickness of Bertie's wrist.
+
+But he quite made up his mind that he would be either the clown or the
+rider; and that, when he had determined which of these honourable
+positions he would prefer to fill, he would lose no time in laying
+siege to one of the ladies of the establishment, and to beg her to be
+his. But here the same difficulty occurred;--he was not quite certain
+which. However, by the time the performance was over, and the audience
+was dismissed, on one point he was assured, he would enlist under the
+banners of the world-famed Badger. Dick Turpin, Robin Hood, Robinson
+Crusoe, Jack the Giant Killer, might do for some folks, but a circus
+was the place for him.
+
+When he regained the open air, and had bidden an unwilling adieu to
+the sawdust glories, the afternoon was pretty well advanced and the
+fair was more crowded than ever. But Bertie could not tear himself
+away from Badger's. He hung about the exterior of the tent as though
+the neighbourhood was holy ground.
+
+Several other loiterers lingered too; and among them were four or five
+men who did not look, to put it gently, as though they belonged to
+what are called the upper classes.
+
+"I've half a mind," said Bertie to himself, "to go inside the tent,
+and ask Mr. Badger if he wants a boy. But perhaps he wouldn't like to
+be troubled when there's no performance on."
+
+Bertie's ideas on circus management were rudimentary. Mr. Badger would
+perhaps have looked a little blue to find himself met with such a
+request if there had been a performance on.
+
+"What do you think of the circus?"
+
+The question was put by one of the individuals before referred to. He
+had apparently given his companions the slip, for they stood a little
+distance off, ostentatiously paying no attention to his proceedings.
+He was a short man, inclined to stoutness, and Bertie thought he had
+the reddest face he had ever seen.
+
+"It's not a bad show, is it? And more it didn't ought to be, for the
+amount of money it cost me to put that show together no one wouldn't
+believe."
+
+Bertie stared. It dimly occurred to him that it must have cost him all
+the money he possessed and so left him nothing to throw away upon his
+clothing, for his costume was distinctly shabby. But the stout man
+went on affably:--
+
+"I saw you looking round, so I thought as perhaps you took a interest
+in these here kind of things. Perhaps you don't know who I am?"
+
+Bertie didn't and said so.
+
+"I'm Badger, the Original Badger. I may say the only Badger as was
+ever known,--for all them other Badgers belongs to another branch of
+the family."
+
+The Original Badger put his hand to his neck, apparently with the
+intention of pulling up his shirt collar, which, however, wasn't
+there. Bertie stared still more. The stout man did not by any means
+come up to the ideas he had formed of the world-famed Badger.
+
+"You're not the Mr. Badger to whom the circus belongs."
+
+"Ain't I! But I ham, I just ham." The Original Badger's enunciation of
+the letter was more emphatic than correct.
+
+"And I should like to see the man who says I hain't! I'd fight that
+man either for beer or money either now or any other time, and I
+shouldn't care if he was twenty stone. Now look 'ere"--the Original
+Badger gave Bertie so hearty a slap upon the back that that young
+gentleman tottered--"What I say is this. I wants a well-built young
+fellow about your age to learn the riding, and to train for clown, and
+I wants that young feller to make his first appearance this day three
+weeks. Now what do you say to being that young feller?"
+
+"I don't think I could learn it in three weeks," was all Bertie could
+manage to stammer.
+
+"Oh couldn't you? I know better. Now, look 'ere, I'm going to pay that
+young feller five and twenty pound a week, and find him in his
+clothing. What do you say to that?"
+
+Bertie would have liked to say a good deal, if he could have only
+found the words to say it with. Among other things he would probably
+have liked to have said that he hoped the clothing which was to
+accompany the five and twenty pounds a week would be of a different
+sort to that worn by the Original Badger. It would have been a
+hazardous experiment to have offered five and twenty pence for the
+stout man's costume.
+
+"Now, look 'ere, there's a house I know close by where you and me can
+be alone, and we can talk it over. You're just the sort of young
+feller I've been looking for. Now come along with me and I'll make
+your fortune for you,--you see if I don't."
+
+Before Bertie quite knew what was happening, the stout man had slipped
+his arm through his, and was hurrying him through the fair, away from
+it, and down some narrow streets which were not of the most
+aristocratic appearance. All the time he kept pouring out such a
+stream of words that the lad was given no chance to remonstrate, even
+if he had had presence of mind enough to do it with. But,
+metaphorically, the Original Badger--to use an expression in vulgar
+phrase--had knocked him silly.
+
+What exactly happened Bertie never could remember. The Original Badger
+led him to a very doubtful looking public-house, and, before he knew
+it, the lad was through the door. They did not go into the public bar,
+but into a little room beyond. They had scarcely entered when they
+were joined by three or four more shabby individuals, whom the
+Original Badger greeted as his friends. If Bertie had looked behind he
+would have perceived these gentry following close upon his heels all
+the time.
+
+"This young gentleman's going to stand something to drink. Now, 'Enery
+William, gin cold."
+
+The order was given by the Original Badger to a shrivelled-up
+individual without a coat who seemed to act as pot-boy. When this
+person disappeared, and Bertie was left alone with the Original Badger
+and his friends, he by no means liked the situation. A more unpleasant
+looking set of vagabonds could with difficulty be found; and he felt
+that if these were the sort of gentry who had to do with circuses a
+circus was not the place for him.
+
+The pot-boy re-appeared with a bottle of water, and a tray of glasses
+containing gin.
+
+"Two shillings," said the pot-boy.
+
+"All right; the gentleman pays."
+
+"Pay in advance," said the pot-boy.
+
+"Two shillings, captain!"
+
+The Original Badger gave Bertie another of his hearty slaps upon the
+back. Bertie felt they were too hearty by half. However, he produced a
+florin, with which the pot-boy disappeared, leaving the glasses on the
+table.
+
+"I'm going," he said, directly that functionary was gone.
+
+"What, before you've drunk your liquor? You'll never do for a circus,
+you won't." Bertie felt he wouldn't. "Why, I've got all that business
+to talk over with you. I'm going to engage this young feller in my
+circus to do the clowning and the riding for five and twenty pound a
+week."
+
+The Original Badger cast what was suspiciously like a wink in the
+direction of his friends. One of these friends handed the glasses
+round. He lingered a moment with the glass he gave to Bertie before he
+filled it half-way up with water, then he held it towards the boy. He
+was a tall, sallow-looking ruffian, with ragged whiskers; the sort of
+man one would very unwillingly encounter on a lonely road at night.
+
+"Drink that up," he said; "that's the sort of thing for circus
+riders."
+
+"I don't want to drink the stuff," said Bertie. "Drink it up, you
+fool!"
+
+The lad hesitated a moment, then emptied the glass at a draught. What
+happened afterwards he never could describe; for it seemed to him that
+no sooner had he drunk the contents than he fell asleep; and as he
+sank into slumber he seemed to hear the sound of laughter ringing in
+his ears.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XII
+
+                            A "DOSS" HOUSE
+
+
+When he woke it was dark. He did not know where he was. He opened his
+eyes, which were curiously heavy, and thought he was in a dream. He
+shut them again, and vainly wondered if he were back at Mecklemburg
+House or in his home at Upton. He half expected to hear familiar
+voices. Suddenly there was a crash of instruments; he started up,
+supporting himself upon his arm, and listened listlessly, still not
+quite sure he was not dreaming. It was the crash of the circus band;
+they were playing "God Save the Queen."
+
+Something like consciousness returned. He began to understand his
+whereabouts. A cool breeze was blowing across his face; he was in the
+open air; behind him there was a canvas flapping. It was a tent.
+Around him were discords of every kind. It was night; the fair was in
+all its glory. He was lying in the fair field.
+
+"Hallo, chappie! coming round again?"
+
+Some one spoke. Looking up, peering through his heavy eyes, he
+perceived that a lean, ragged figure was leaning over him.
+Sufficiently roused to dislike further companionship with the Original
+Badger and his friends, he dragged himself to a sitting posture. The
+stranger was a lad, not much, if any, older than himself, some
+ragamuffin of the streets.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Bertie.
+
+"Never mind who I am. I've had my eyes on you this ever so long. Ain't
+you been a-going it neither. I thought that you was dead. Was it----?"
+
+He gave a suggestive gesture with his hand, as though he emptied a
+glass into his mouth. Bertie struggled to his feet.
+
+"I--I don't feel quite well."
+
+"You don't look it neither. Whatever have you been doing of?"
+
+Bertie tried to think. He would like to have left his new
+acquaintance. The Original Badger and his friends had been quite
+enough for him, but his legs refused their office, and he was perforce
+compelled to content himself with standing still. He did not feel
+quite such a hero as he had done before.
+
+"Have you lost anything?"
+
+The chance question brought Bertie back to recollection. He put his
+hand into his trousers pockets--they were empty. Bewildered, he felt
+in the pockets of his waistcoat and of his jacket--they were empty,
+too! Some one had relieved him of everything he possessed, down to his
+clasp knife and pocket handkerchief. Willie Seymour's one and
+fivepence, and Mr. Bankes' five pounds, both alike were gone!
+
+"I've been robbed," he said.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised but what you had. What do you think is going
+to happen to you if you lies for ever so many hours in the middle of
+the fair field as if you was dead? How much have you lost?"
+
+"Five pounds."
+
+"Five pounds!--crikey, if you ain't a pretty cove! Are you a-gammoning
+me?"
+
+Bertie looked at the lad. A thought struck him. He put out his hand
+and took him by the shoulder.
+
+"You've robbed me," he said.
+
+"You leave me alone! who are you touching of? If you don't leave me
+alone, I'll make you smart."
+
+"You try it on," said Bertie.
+
+The other tried it on, and with such remarkable celerity, that before
+he had realized what had happened, Bertie Bailey lay down flat. The
+stranger showed such science that, in his present half comatose
+condition, Bailey went down like a log.
+
+"You wouldn't have done that if I'd been all right; and I do believe
+you've robbed me."
+
+"Believe away! I ain't, so there! I ain't so much as seen the colour
+of your money, and I don't know nothing at all about it. The first I
+see of you was about five o'clock. You was a-lying just where you are
+now, and I've come and had a look at you a dozen times since. Why, it
+must be ten o'clock, for the circus is out, and you ain't woke up only
+just this minute. How came you to be lying there?"
+
+"I don't know. I've been robbed, and that's quite enough for me,--my
+head is aching fit to split."
+
+"Haven't you got any money left?"
+
+"No, I haven't."
+
+"Where's your home?"
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"Well, it ain't much to me, but I should think it's a good deal to
+you. If I was you I'd go home."
+
+"Well, you're not me, so I won't."
+
+"All right, matey, it ain't no odds to me. If you likes lying there
+till the perlice come and walks you off, it's all the same to me so
+far as I'm concerned."
+
+"I've got no money; I've been robbed."
+
+"I tell you what I'll do, I ain't a rich chap, not by no manner of
+means, and I never had five pounds to lose, but I've had a stroke of
+luck in my small way, and if you really haven't got no home, nor yet
+no coin, I don't mind standing in for a bed so far as four pence
+goes."
+
+"I don't know what you mean; leave me alone. I've got no money; I've
+been robbed."
+
+"So you have, chummy, and that's a fact; so you pick yourself up and
+toddle along with me; there ain't no fear of your being robbed again
+if you've nothing to lose."
+
+Bertie half resisted the stranger's endeavour to assist him in finding
+his feet, but the other managed so dexterously that Bertie found
+himself accompanying his new friend with a fair amount of willingness.
+The fair was still at its height; the swings were fuller; the
+roundabout was driving a roaring trade; the sportsmen in the shooting
+gallery were popping away; but all these glories had lost their charm
+for Bertie. It seemed to him that it was all a hideous nightmare, from
+which he vainly struggled to shake himself free.
+
+Had it not been for occasional assistance, he would more than once
+have lost his footing. Something ailed him, but what, he was at a loss
+to understand. All the hopes, and vigour, and high spirits of the
+morning had disappeared, and with them all his dreams had vanished
+too. He was the most miserable young gentleman in Kingston Fair.
+
+He kept up an under current of grumbling all the way, now and then
+making feeble efforts to rid himself of his companion; but the
+stranger was too wide awake for Bertie to shake him off. Had he been
+better acquainted with the town, and in a fit state to realize his
+knowledge, he would have been aware that his companion was leading
+him, by a series of short cuts, in the direction of the apple-market.
+He paused before a tumbledown old house, over the door of which a lamp
+was burning. Bertie shrunk away, with some dim recollection of the
+establishment into which he had been enticed by the Original Badger
+and his friends. At sight of his unwillingness the other only laughed.
+
+"What are you afraid of? This ain't a place in which they'd rob you,
+even if you'd got anything worth robbing, which it seems to me you
+ain't. This is a doss-house, this is."
+
+So saying he entered the house, the door of which seemed to stand
+permanently open. The somewhat reluctant Bertie entered with him. No
+one appearing to receive them, the stranger lost no time in informing
+the inmates of their arrival.
+
+"Here, Mr. Jenkins, or Mrs. Jenkins, or some one, can I come up?"
+
+In answer to this appeal, a stout lady appeared at the head of a
+flight of stairs, which rose almost from the threshold of the door.
+Hall there was none. She was not a very cleanly-looking lady, nor had
+she the softest of voices.
+
+"Is that you, Sam Slater? Who's that you've got with you?"
+
+"A friend of mine, and that's enough for you."
+
+With this brief response, the stranger, whose name appeared to be Sam
+Slater, led the way up the flight of stairs.
+
+"Anybody here?" he asked, when he reached the landing.
+
+"Not at present there ain't; I expect they're all at the fair."
+
+"All the better," said Sam.
+
+He followed the lady through a door which faced the landing, pausing
+for a moment to see that Bertie followed too. Something in Bertie's
+appearance struck the lady's eye.
+
+"What's the matter with your friend,--ain't he well?" she asked.
+
+"Well, he's not exactly well," responded Sam, favouring Bertie with a
+curious glance from the corner of his eye.
+
+A man who was seated by a roaring fire, although the night was warm
+and bright, got up and joined the party. He was in his shirt-sleeves,
+and he also was stout, and he puffed industriously at a short black
+clay pipe. He stood in front of Bertie, and inspected him from head to
+foot.
+
+"He don't look exactly well, not by any means he don't."
+
+The stout man grinned. Bertie staggered. The sudden change from the
+sweet, fresh air to the hot, close room gave him a sudden qualm. If
+the stout man had not caught him he would have fallen to the floor.
+
+"Steady! Where do you think you're coming to? You're a nice young
+chap, you are! If I was you I'd turn teetotal."
+
+Sam Slater interfered.
+
+"You don't know anything at all about it; he's not been drinking; he's
+been got at, and some one's cleared him of his cash."
+
+"You leave him to me, Jenkins," said the stout lady.
+
+For Bertie had swooned. As easily as though he had been a baby,
+instead of being the great lad that he was, she lifted him and carried
+him to another room. When he opened his eyes again he found that he
+was lying on a brilliantly counterpaned bed. Sam was seated on the
+edge, the lady was standing by the side, and Mr. Jenkins, a steaming
+tumbler in his hand, was leaning over the rail at his head.
+
+"Better?" inquired the lady, perceiving that his eyes were open.
+
+For answer Bertie sat up and looked about him. It was a little room,
+smaller than the other, and cooler, owing to the absence of a fire.
+
+"Take a swig of this; that'll do you good."
+
+Mr. Jenkins held the steaming tumbler towards him. Bertie shrank away.
+
+"It's only peppermint, made with my own hands, so I can guarantee it's
+good. A barrel of it wouldn't do you harm. Drink up, sonny!"
+
+Thus urged by the lady, he took the glass and drank. It certainly
+revived him, making him feel less dull and heavy; but a curious sense
+of excitement came instead. In the state in which he was even
+peppermint had a tendency to fly to his head. Perceiving his altered
+looks the lady went on,--
+
+"Didn't I tell you it would do you good? Now you feel another man."
+
+Then she continued, in a tone which Bertie, if he had the senses about
+him, would have called wheedling--
+
+"Anybody can see that you're a gentleman, and not used to such a place
+as this. You are a little gentleman, ain't you now?"
+
+Bertie took another drink before he replied. The steaming hot
+peppermint was restoring him to his former heroic state of mind.
+
+"I should think I am a gentleman; I should like to see anybody say I
+wasn't."
+
+Either this remark, or the manner of its delivery, made Mr. Jenkins
+laugh.
+
+"Oh lor!" he said, "here's a three-foot-sixer!"
+
+"Never mind him, my dear," observed the lady, "he knows no better. I
+knows a gentleman when I sees one, and directly I set eyes on you I
+says, 'he's a gentleman he is.' And did they rob you of your money?"
+
+"Some one's robbed me of five pounds."
+
+This was not said in quite such a heroic tone as the former remark.
+The memory of that five pounds haunted him.
+
+"Poor, dear, young gentleman, think of that now. And was the money
+your own, my dear?"
+
+"Whose do you think it was? Do you think I stole it?"
+
+Under the influence of the peppermint, or harassed by the memory of
+his loss, Bertie positively scowled at the lady.
+
+"Dear no, young gentlemen never steals. Five pounds! and all his own;
+and lost it too! What thieves this world has got! Dear, dear, now."
+
+The lady paused, possibly overcome by her sympathy with the lad's
+misfortune. Behind his back she interchanged a glance with Mr.
+Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins, apparently wishing to say something, but not
+being able to find the words to say it with, put his hand to his mouth
+and coughed. Sam Slater stared at Bertie with a look of undisguised
+contempt.
+
+"You must be a green hand to let 'em turn you inside out like that. If
+I had five pounds--which I ain't never likely to have! more's the
+pity--I'd look 'em up and down just once or twice before I'd let 'em
+walk off with it like that. I wonder if your mother knows you're out."
+
+"My mother doesn't know anything at all about it; I've run away from
+school."
+
+Under ordinary circumstances Bertie would have confined that fact
+within his own bosom; now, with some vague idea of impressing his
+dignity upon the contemptuous Sam, he blurted it out. Directly the
+words were spoken a significant look passed from each of his hearers
+to the other.
+
+"Dear, now," said the lady. "Run away from school, have you now?
+There's a brave young gentleman; and that there Sam knows nothing at
+all about it. It's more than he dare do."
+
+"Never had a school to run away from," murmured Sam.
+
+"Did they use you very bad, my dear?"
+
+"It wasn't because of that; I wouldn't have minded how they used me. I
+ran away because I wanted to find the Land of Golden Dreams."
+
+Mr. Jenkins put his hand to his mouth as if to choke what sounded very
+like a laugh; Sam stared with a look of the most profound amazement on
+his face; a faint smile even flitted across the lady's face.
+
+"The Land of Golden Dreams," said Sam. "Never heard tell of such a
+place."
+
+"You never heard tell of nothing," declared the lady. "You ain't a
+scholar like this young gentleman. And what's the name of the school,
+my dear?"
+
+"Mecklemburg House Collegiate School."
+
+Bertie informed them of the name and title of Mr. Fletcher's
+educational establishment with what he intended to be his grandest
+air, with a possible intention of impressing them with its splendour.
+
+"There's a mouthful," commented Sam. "Oh my eye!"
+
+The lady's reception of Bertie's information was more courteous.
+
+"There's a beautiful name for a school. And where might it be?"
+
+"It's not very far from Cobham. But I don't live there."
+
+"No, my dear. And where do you live, my lovey?"
+
+The lady became more affectionate in her titles of endearment as she
+went on. Mr. Jenkins, leaning over the head of the bed, listened with
+all his ears; but on his countenance was a delighted grin.
+
+"I live at Upton."
+
+"Upton," said the lady, and glanced at Mr. Jenkins behind the bed. Mr.
+Jenkins winked at her.
+
+"My father's a doctor; he keeps two horses and a carriage; everybody
+knows him there; he's the best doctor in the place."
+
+"And is your mother alive, my dear?"
+
+"I should rather think she was, and won't she go it when she knows
+I've run away!"
+
+"Dear now, think of that! I shouldn't be surprised if she was very
+fond of you, my dear. And I daresay, now, she'd give a deal of money
+to any one who told her where you were."
+
+"I should think she would. I daresay she'd give--I daresay she'd
+give----" he searched his imagination for the largest sum of which he
+could think; he desired to impress his audience with an idea of the
+family importance and wealth. "I daresay she'd give a thousand
+pounds." His hearers stared. "But she's not likely to know, for
+there's no one to tell her."
+
+This statement seemed to tickle Mr. Jenkins and Sam so much, that with
+one accord they burst into a roar of laughter. Bertie glowered.
+
+"Never mind them, my lovey; it's their bad manners, they don't know no
+better. I'll soon send them away. Now, out you go, going on with your
+ridiculous nonsense, and he such a brave young gentleman; I'm ashamed
+of you;--get away, the two of you."
+
+Mr. Jenkins and Sam obediently went, stifling their laughter on the
+way. But apparently when they were outside they gave free vent to
+their sense of humour, for their peals of mirth came through the door.
+
+"Never mind them, my dear; you undress yourself and get into bed, and
+have a nice long sleep, and be sure you have a friend in me. My name's
+Jenkins, lovey, Eliza Jenkins, and that there silly man's my husband.
+By the way, you haven't told me what your name is, my dear."
+
+"My name's Bailey, Bertie Bailey."
+
+"Dear now, and you're the son of the famous Dr. Bailey of Upton. Think
+of that now."
+
+She left him to think of it, for immediately after Mrs. Jenkins
+followed her husband and Sam. Bertie, left alone, hesitated for a
+moment or two as to what he should do. He tried to think, but thought
+was just then an exercise beyond his powers. The events of the last
+few hours were presented in a sort of kaleidoscopic picture to his
+mind's eye. There was nothing clear. He found a difficulty in
+realizing where he was. As he looked round the unfamiliar room, with
+its scanty furniture, and that of the poorest and most tawdry class,
+he found it difficult not to persuade himself that he saw it in a
+dream.
+
+All the events of the day seemed to have been the incidents of a
+dream. Mecklemburg House seemed to be a house he had seen in a dream.
+He seemed to have left it in a dream. That walk along the moonlit road
+had been a walk in a dream. He had driven with Mr. George Washington
+Bankes in a dream. He had possessed five pounds in a dream; had lost
+it in a dream; had been to the circus in a dream; the Original Badger
+and his friends were the characters seen in a dream--a dream which had
+been the long nightmare of a day.
+
+One thing was certain, he was sleepy; on that point he was clear. He
+could hardly keep his eyes open, and his head from sinking on his
+breast. As in a dream he lazily undressed; as in a dream he got into
+the bed; and once into the bed he was almost instantly wrapped in a
+sound and dreamless slumber.
+
+He was awoke by the sound of voices. It seemed to him that he had only
+slept five minutes, but it was broad daylight; the sun was shining
+into the room, and, almost immediately after he opened his eyes, the
+clock of Kingston church struck twelve. It was high noon.
+
+But he was not yet fully roused. He lay in that delicious state of
+languor which is neither sleep nor waking. The owners of the voices
+were evidently not aware that he was even partially awakened. They
+went on talking with perfect absence of restraint, entirely
+unsuspicious of there being any listener near. The speakers were Mr.
+and Mrs. Jenkins.
+
+"It's all nonsense about the thousand pounds; a thousand pence will be
+nearer the thing; but even a thousand pence is not very far off a
+five-pound note, and a five-pound note's worth having."
+
+Mr. Jenkins ceased, and Mrs. Jenkins took up the strain. Bertie, lying
+in his delightful torpor, heard it all; though he was not at first
+conscious that he was himself the theme of his host and hostess's
+conversation.
+
+"He says his father keeps two horses and a carriage; he must be tidy
+off. If his mother's fond of him, she wouldn't mind paying liberal to
+hear his whereabouts. If you goes down and tells her how you took him
+in without a penny in his pockets, not so much as fourpence to pay for
+his bed--which it's against our rule to take in anybody who doesn't
+pay his money in advance--and how he was ill and all, there's no
+knowing but what she wouldn't pay you handsome for putting her on his
+track and all."
+
+"It's worth trying anyhow. Dr. Bailey, you say, is the name?"
+
+"He says his own name is Bertie Bailey, and his father's name is Dr.
+Bailey."
+
+Bertie pricked up his ears at the sound of his name, and began to
+wonder.
+
+"And his home is Upton? There don't seem no railway at this here
+Upton. Slough seems the nearest station, because I asked them at the
+booking office, and there's a tidy bit to walk."
+
+"Don't you walk it. You take a cab and drive. Make out as how there
+wasn't no time to lose, and as how you thought the mother's heart was
+a longing for her son. Do the thing in style. If there don't nothing
+else come of it they'll have to pay your expenses handsome."
+
+"I'm not going all that way for my expenses, so I'll let them know!
+They'll have to make it worth my while before I tell them where to lay
+their finger on the kid."
+
+Bertie wondered more and more. He still lay motionless, but by now he
+was wide awake. It dawned upon him what was the meaning of the
+conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were apparently about to take
+advantage of his incautious frankness to betray him for the sake of a
+reward. He had a dim recollection of having blurted out more than he
+intended; and, on the strength of the information he had thus
+obtained, Mr. Jenkins was going to pay a little visit to his home.
+
+"Don't you be afraid," went on the lady, "I tell you they'll pay up
+handsome. You and me, perhaps, wouldn't make much fuss if one of our
+young 'uns was to cut and run, but gentlefolks is different. It isn't
+likely that a lady can like the thought of a boy of hers knocking
+about in the gutter, and trying his luck in the ditch. Just you put
+your hat on, and you go straight to this here Upton, and you see if it
+isn't the best day's work you've ever done. I'll go fast enough, if
+you've not started soon."
+
+Mr. Jenkins did not seem to like this idea at all; his tone was a
+little sulky.
+
+"You needn't put yourself out, Eliza; I'm a-going."
+
+"Then why don't you go, instead of standing wool gathering there?"
+
+"You don't know his address. What am I to ask for when I get to this
+here Upton?"
+
+"Why, ask for Dr. Bailey; it's only a little place. You'll find he's
+as well known as the church clock, and perhaps better."
+
+"And about the boy; what are you going to do when he wakes up?"
+
+"I'll look after him. Don't you trouble your head about the boy;
+you'll find him here when you come back as safe as houses."
+
+"All right, Eliza, I'm off; and by to-night, I shouldn't be surprised
+if Master Bertie Bailey, Esquire, was returned to his fond parent's
+arms."
+
+His tone was jocular; but the expression of his countenance was not
+exactly genial when Master Bertie Bailey sat up in bed, as he did at
+this identical moment, and looked his host and hostess in the face.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIII
+
+                          IN PETERSHAM PARK
+
+
+Bertie looked at Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins looked
+at him, and husband and wife looked at one another.
+
+"And have you had a nice sleep, my dear?"
+
+Bertie vouchsafed no reply to the lady's question, continuing to look
+at her with his characteristically dogged look in his eyes.
+
+"And how long have you been awake, my dear? Have you only just now
+woke?"
+
+Bertie threw the clothes from off him, and turned to Mr. Jenkins.
+
+"I won't go home, even if you do go and tell my mother, you old
+sneak!"
+
+This uncomplimentary epithet was applied to Mr. Jenkins with such
+sullen ferocity, that that gentleman started and looked even more
+discomfited than he had done before. Bertie got out of bed and stood
+upon the floor.
+
+"Give me my clothes, and let me go; you've no right to keep me here."
+
+Mr. Jenkins was apparently speechless, but his quicker-witted wife was
+voluble enough.
+
+"Certainly, my dear. No one wants to keep you, lovey. You pay us what
+you owe and you're as free as the air!"
+
+"I don't owe you anything."
+
+"Not anything for a young gentleman like you; it's only six shillings,
+my dear."
+
+"Six shillings!"
+
+"Yes, six shillings. Would you like your bill, my dear? Jenkins, go
+and get the young gentleman his bill."
+
+"You're a lot of thieves!"
+
+"Oh, thieves are we? Very well, if you like to think us so, my dear.
+But I shouldn't have thought that a young gentleman like you would
+have liked to rob poor people of the money he owes for his board and
+lodging. And if you talk about thieves, my dear, Jenkins will go for a
+policeman, and a policeman will soon show you who's the thief, if you
+don't pay us what you owe, my lovey. And I shouldn't be surprised if,
+when he heard as how you'd runned away, the policeman wasn't to take
+and lock you up at once, my pet. Now, Jenkins, you come along with me,
+and while I makes up the young gentleman's bill you go and fetch a
+policeman, because as he thinks we're thieves, he do."
+
+While the lady delivered herself of this voluble string of
+observations she had gradually approached the door. Before Bertie had
+perceived her design, she had pushed her husband through the door, and
+was through herself; the door was shut, the key turned in the lock,
+and Bertie was a prisoner.
+
+"Now we'll see who's thieves!" the lady was heard to observe outside.
+"Now, Jenkins, you go and get a policeman this instant minute, and
+mind you bring a good big one, too!"
+
+Very few boys would be so foolish as to, what is rather erroneously
+termed run away; sneak away would perhaps be the correct phrase. If in
+any given million we were to put it that there is one such being, we
+should perhaps be stating a larger average than actually exists. But
+we may be pretty sure, that for even that young gentleman the
+adventures which had befallen Bertie Bailey at the very outset would
+have been quite sufficient; he would have devoted the small remainder
+of his energies to running, _i.e_., sneaking, back again.
+
+But Bertie Bailey was made of sterner stuff; he was of those young
+gentlemen who have to learn their lessons a good many times over
+before they can get the meaning of what they have learnt into their
+heads. Those who reach the end of this story will find that he did
+learn his lesson to the end, and that it was a terrible lesson too,
+but the ending was not yet.
+
+So soon as he understood that he was a prisoner, Bertie cast about for
+some method of escape. In his heart he could not but allow that the
+commencement of his journey had not been so successful as he had
+intended that it should be. But he was naturally slow to admit a
+failure. And to think that the ingenious Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins should
+make capital out of his misfortunes; that was an idea he by no means
+relished.
+
+Fortunately, the lady had left his clothes behind. It occurred to
+Bertie that she might perceive her error and return to fetch them. To
+prevent any likelihood of that he put them on. Then he looked about to
+find a path to freedom.
+
+The window immediately caught his eye. It was a very little one, in
+the fashion of a double lattice, which opened outwards. But Bertie
+resolved that it was large enough for him. He opened it carefully and
+peeped out. It was apparently a window at the side of the house,
+looking out upon a narrow passage-way.
+
+Had Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins known the character of their guest, they
+would never have been so foolish as to think the bird was safe while
+he had the command of that convenient window. It was only some ten or
+twelve feet above the ground, and to Bertie the drop was nothing.
+
+He lost no time in putting it to the test. First peering up and down
+the narrow passage, to see that no one was in sight and that no other
+window commanded a view of his operations, he brought the only chair
+the room contained up to the window and commenced to climb through it,
+feet foremost. The operation was a delicate one, but the size of the
+window precluded any other mode of egress. Even as it was, when he was
+about half way through he discovered that he was stuck fast. For a few
+disagreeable moments he feared that he would have to remain in that
+uncomfortable position till Mrs. Jenkins returned to secure her prey.
+
+He wriggled and twisted, but for a time in vain. Suddenly, however, he
+did more than he intended; for the result of a desperate effort was to
+precipitate him so rapidly backwards that he was only just able to
+grasp the old-fashioned, narrow, wooden window sill with his right
+hand in time to prevent himself from falling in a heap upon the
+ground. He hung for a second, to give himself chance to recover from
+the shock, then he loosened his hold, and, dropping, alighted on his
+feet upon the ground; and no sooner was he on the ground than, without
+waiting to see if there was any one about, he dashed helter skelter
+down the passage at the top of his speed.
+
+He was not pursued. On that point his mind was soon at rest. Mr. and
+Mrs. Jenkins were probably too much engaged with other matters to
+think of the possibility of their guest effecting his escape. The
+passage led, by a succession of devious turnings, into the Richmond
+Road. When he reached the main thoroughfare Bertie ceased to run.
+
+Under the railway arch, past the shops, past the cricket field, into
+the lanes beyond, went Bertie. He had had nothing to eat that morning,
+he had not a farthing in his pocket; he had no conception where money
+was to come from unless it tumbled from the skies; yet he went
+unhesitatingly forward, as though all the world was at his feet, and
+all its wealth was in his pocket.
+
+Past Ham Common into Petersham, and now he began to think that perhaps
+he was a little hungry. Delicious recollections of the morning meal of
+yesterday floated through his mind. A dish of ham and eggs he would
+have welcomed as a dish worthy of the gods; but there were no ham and
+eggs for him just then.
+
+The road was dusty; the previous rains had disappeared, and the mud
+was turned to dust. By the time he reached Bute House he had made up
+his mind that the dust and heat combined were a little more than he
+quite relished. By then, too, he had no doubt but that he was hungry
+and thirsty too.
+
+Suddenly the sound of voices fell upon his ear; of children's voices,
+of their laughter, of their cries of pleasure as they called to one
+another. He looked through the rails into Petersham Park. The park was
+full of children. There was some huge school treat, and in hundreds
+they were passing here and there. Up the hill, and along the valley,
+among the trees, and in the nooks and dells, as far as the eye could
+penetrate, there were children moving. He entered, and advancing some
+distance from the outer wall, he lay down upon the grass.
+
+When he had lain there some time there were races started. Little boys
+and big raced for prizes. Those in charge of the multitude of children
+arranged the sports.
+
+"Here's a race for a shilling!" shouted one such person in authority.
+He held a leather bag above his head. There was a shout from the boys
+who crowded round him. The prize was of unusual magnitude. All the
+prizes seemed to be in money,--twopence, threepence, fourpence had
+been their value until now--and no sooner were they won than the
+winners rushed to spend their prizes at the stalls of fruit and
+sweets, the proprietors of which plied a roaring trade. When the race
+for a shilling was announced there was a shout from a multitude of
+throats.
+
+"Now then, why don't you have a try to win? you're big enough. Lying
+there as if you're half asleep; jump up, and show them how fast your
+feet can travel!"
+
+A young man was standing by Bertie, looking down at him, evidently
+unaware that he was not an original member of the noisy crowd.
+
+"Jump up! Why don't you go in for the race? Are you ill?"
+
+"I'm not ill."
+
+Without another word Bertie got up and joined the host of boys who
+were preparing to run. There were probably a hundred, and the
+directors of the sports had considerable difficulty in arranging a
+fair start. The race was confined to the bigger ones; there were no
+starts allowed, and they were all supposed to start from the same
+line. But the competitors had not the nicest sense of honour, and each
+endeavoured to steal a yard from his friend. Finally they were got
+into something like a proper line.
+
+The distance to be run was about two hundred yards. The course was not
+a very regular one, as some were up the hill, and some were down; the
+breadth of the level ground was not sufficient to contain them all.
+Two persons stood in a line to mark the winning-post, and between them
+they stretched a cord. The one on the right held the shilling in a
+bag.
+
+Several false starts were made. In their anxiety to be first the
+competitors could not manage to stand still. Half a dozen times they
+broke away, and had to be called back again. At last they were off.
+The course was from the park and towards the road, the winning-post
+being about a dozen yards from the school house at the gate.
+
+The race was short, and, so far as the majority of the competitors
+were concerned, by no means sharp. Quite a third were out of it in the
+first six yards; half the remainder were beaten in a dozen, and before
+half the distance was covered there were only four or five who had a
+chance of winning. Among these was Bailey. He was not over fast on his
+feet as a rule, but never had the inducement to make the best possible
+speed been so strong before. He was running for his dinner, and, for
+all he knew, his tea and supper too.
+
+In the last fifty yards the race resolved itself into a struggle of
+three. In front was a tall, lanky boy, who, so far as length of limb
+was concerned, ought to have left the others at the post. But his
+condition was not equal to his build; he went puffing and panting
+along. Obviously it would take him all he knew to last it out. About a
+couple of yards behind him, and almost side by side with Bertie, was a
+slightly-built lad, who was straining every nerve to keep his place.
+The freshest of the three was Bailey.
+
+Yet the lanky youth looked like winning. He lumbered and blundered
+along, but his long legs enabled him to cover at a single stride the
+ground which they had to take two steps to cover. The boy by Bertie's
+side had just given up the struggle with a gasp, when the lanky lad
+caught his foot in a hole and went headlong to the ground. Like a
+flash Bertie put on a spurt and dashed victorious in. The prize-holder
+held out the leather bag, and Bertie caught it as he passed.
+
+But the lanky youth, disappointed in his expectations, having puffed
+himself for nothing, beheld the reward of his endeavours snatched from
+his grasp with a burning sense of injury. Struggling to his feet he
+gave his emotions words.
+
+"It ain't fair! Who's he? He ain't one of us! He's a stranger!"
+
+Instantly the words were caught up by a host of disappointed
+competitors.
+
+"He's a stranger! What's he want running races along with us? and
+winning of the prizes?"
+
+The individual who had so hastily yielded up the reward of victory,
+turned to Bertie.
+
+"Aren't you one of our boys?"
+
+But Bertie did not wait to give an answer. The shilling of which he
+had gained possession meant so much to him, that he instinctively felt
+that to wait to explain exactly who he was would be a waste of time.
+He had been told to run, he had run, he had fairly won, he had been
+handed the shilling as his by right; it meant dinner, supper,
+everything to him; he was not going to stop to argue the point as to
+who he was. So when the over hasty-individual put the question to him,
+his only answer was to take to his heels and run.
+
+Instantly a crowd was after him.
+
+"Stop him! stop him! He's a stranger! He's not one of us!"
+
+But if he had run fast before, he ran faster now. He was through the
+gate before any one was near him, dashing across the road, and under
+the shadow of the "Star and Garter."
+
+But the chase was relinquished almost as soon as it was begun. The
+person who had held the shilling stopped it.
+
+"Never mind, boys; he won the race, so let him take the prize. Perhaps
+he wants it more than we do. I daresay we can find another shilling,
+and next time we'll be a little more particular."
+
+The crowd returned into the park again.
+
+Bertie pursued his way. When he saw that the chase had stopped he
+slowed a little, soon contenting himself with rapid walking. He was
+very hot; the perspiration stood in great beads upon his face; his
+clothing had an inclination to stick to his limbs. And he was very
+thirsty; his throat was parched and dry. He was hungry too; his long
+abstinence began to tell; he felt he could not go much farther without
+something to eat and drink.
+
+Along the Lower Road, past Petersham fields, past Buccleuch House,
+into Richmond town. The town was crowded. The afternoon was well
+advanced. The fine weather had brought people out into the streets.
+Hill Street and George Street were crowded with both pedestrians and
+carriages. Richmond can be both gay and lovely on a sunny afternoon.
+It was then. The untidy, dusty, perspiring boy looked out of place
+in that big bright crowd, made up as it was for the most part of
+well-dressed people.
+
+Once or twice he stopped and looked into the confectioners' shops, but
+from their appearance they were evidently beyond his means. If he had
+only been still the possessor of five pounds he might have ruffled
+it with the best of them, but a shilling would not go far in those
+well-filled emporiums of confectionery and nice-looking but
+unsubstantial odds and ends, and he so hungry too. He was beginning to
+fear that Richmond was not the place for him, and that he would have
+to go hungry and thirsty, when he reached the coffee palace in the Kew
+Road.
+
+Here he thought he might venture in; and he did. He had a bloater and
+some bread-and-butter, and a cup of coffee, and there was not much
+change left in his pocket after that. But it was a sufficiently hearty
+meal, and the choice of materials did credit to his judgment. He left
+the shop with his hunger satisfied, feeling brighter and fresher
+altogether, and with fivepence in his pocket clutched tightly with his
+right hand. Those coppers were exceeding precious in his eyes.
+
+He set out to walk to London. He knew that Richmond was not very far
+from London, and had a general idea that he had to keep straight on.
+He had lingered over his meal, taking his time and resting, and
+watching the other customers enjoying theirs, so that it was about six
+o'clock when he rose and went. A curious spirit of adventure possessed
+him still. The bull-dog nature of the boy was roused, and it was with
+an implicit faith in the future that he went straight on.
+
+Until he reached Kew Bridge all was easy sailing; there was a straight
+road, and he went straight on. But at Kew Bridge he pulled up,
+puzzled. He had crossed the river at Hampton Court, and again at
+Kingston, and apparently here was another bridge to cross. It seemed
+to him that things were getting mixed. Ignorant of the convolutions of
+the Thames, of its manifold twists and turns, he began to wonder
+whether he had not after all gone wrong, when he found the river in
+front of him again.
+
+By the bridge lingered two or three of the flower-sellers who haunt
+the neighbourhood of Kew Gardens. He addressed himself to one of them.
+
+"Am I right for London?"
+
+"Of course you is, over the bridge, turn to the right, and go straight
+on. Won't you buy a bookay? Only this one left; ain't sold none all
+day,--flowers only just fresh,--only sixpence, sir."
+
+The man kept up by Bertie's side, supported by one or two of his
+colleagues, proffering their wares.
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+"Don't say that, sir,--I'm a poor chap, sir,--I am indeed, sir,--very
+'ard to stand all day and not sell nothing--just this one, sir--you
+shall have it for fivepence."
+
+"I tell you I haven't any money."
+
+"Leave the gentleman alone, Bill. Don't you see he's a-going home to
+his ma?"
+
+His colleagues dropped off, firing a parting shot; but the man whom
+Bertie had originally addressed kept steadily on, sticking close to
+his side. They crossed the bridge together. The sun was beginning to
+go home in the west, majestically enthroned in a bank of crimson
+clouds. The waters were tinted by his departing rays.
+
+"Just this one, sir--take pity on a poor chap, now do, sir--you've got
+a nice home to go to, and a ma and all, and here's me, what hasn't
+earned a copper all the day, with nothing to eat and drink, and not a
+bed to lay me 'ead upon--buy this one, sir--you shall have it for
+fourpence."
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+They went down the bridge together, the man still sticking to Bertie's
+side.
+
+"If I was a gentleman, and a poor chap came to me, and asked me to buy
+a bookay, I wouldn't tell him I'd got no money, and me a hard-working
+chap what hasn't tasted food for a couple of days, and hasn't seen a
+bed for a week--just this one, sir--you shall have it for threepence,
+and that's less than it cost me, it is indeed, sir--won't you have it
+for threepence?"
+
+"I tell you I haven't any money."
+
+The man stopped, allowing Bertie to wend his way alone, but his voice
+still followed after.
+
+"Oh, you haven't any money, haven't you? would you like me to lend you
+half-a-crown or a suvering? I'm sure I'm game. 'Ow much does your ma
+allow you a week? a hapenny and a smack on the 'ead? If I was you I'd
+ask your nurse to take you out in the pram, and buy you lollipops,--go
+on, you mealy-faced young 'umbug!"
+
+Bertie almost wished he had not asked the way, but had been content to
+blunder on unaided. The flower-seller's voice was peculiarly audible;
+the passers by were more amused than Bertie was. It was his first
+experience of the characteristic eloquence of a certain class of
+Londoner; he would have been content if it had been his last. He went
+on, feeling somewhat smaller in his own esteem.
+
+Past the "Star and Garter," along the Kew road, never a very cheerful
+thoroughfare. Bertie thought it particularly cheerless then. Through
+Gunnersbury, and Chiswick, and Turnham Green, past the green itself,
+past Duke's Avenue, which is already a caricature of its former self,
+and threatens to be an avenue no more. Past where, not so very long
+ago, the toll bar used to stand, though there is no memorial of its
+presence now. Past the carriage manufactory; past the terminus of that
+singular railway which boasts of a single carriage and a single
+engine,--said railway being two if not three miles long. Into King
+Street, Hammersmith, and when he had got so far upon his journey the
+lad began to tire.
+
+The evening was closing in. The lamps were lighted; the shops were
+ablaze with gas; the streets were crowded. But Bertie did not know
+where he was; he was standing on strange ground. He wondered, rather
+wearily, if this were London; but after his recent experience with the
+vendor of bouquets he was afraid to ask. He was hungry again, and
+began to look into the shop windows with anxious eyes. Fivepence would
+not go far.
+
+He tramped wearily on, right through King Street. At a costermonger's
+stall he bought a pennyworth of apples, and munched them as he went.
+His capital was now reduced to fourpence, and night was come, and he
+was on the threshold of the great city--that Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIV
+
+                              IN TROUBLE
+
+
+Through the Broadway, along the Hammersmith Road, on, and on, and on.
+Every step he took made the next seem harder. He was conscious that he
+could hardly walk much more. The crowd, the lights, the strangeness of
+the place, confused him. He wondered where he was. Was this London?
+and was it nothing else but streets? and was this the Land of Golden
+Dreams?
+
+When he reached the Cedars, where the great pile of school buildings
+is now standing, he saw, peering through the railings, a little arab
+of the streets. To him he applied for information.
+
+"Is this London?"
+
+The urchin withdrew his head from between the two iron rails through
+which he had managed to squeeze it, and eyed his questioner. He was a
+little lad, smaller than Bertie, hatless, shoeless, in a ragged pair
+of trousers which were several sizes too large for him, and which were
+rolled up in a bunch about his ankles to enable him to put his feet
+far enough through to touch the ground.
+
+"What, this? this 'ere? no, this ain't London."
+
+"How far is it then?"
+
+"How far is it? what, London? It just depends what part of London
+might you be wanting?"
+
+"Any part; I don't care."
+
+The urchin whistled. His small, keen eyes had been reading his
+questioner all the time, and Bertie was conscious of a sense of
+discomfort as he observed the curious gaze. In some odd way he felt
+that this little lad was bigger and stronger, and older than himself;
+that he looked down at him, as it were, from a height.
+
+"Say, matey, where might you be going to? You don't look as though you
+knowed your way about, not much, you don't."
+
+The cool tone of superiority irritated Bertie. Tired and weary as he
+was, and a little sick at heart, he was not going to allow a little
+shrimp like this to look down on him.
+
+"If you won't tell me the way, why, that's enough. I don't want any of
+your cheek."
+
+Bertie moved on, but the other called after him.
+
+"You needn't turn rusty, you needn't; I didn't mean no harm. I'm going
+to London, I am, and if you like you can come along o' me."
+
+The urchin was by his side again. Bertie looked at him with disgusted
+eyes. He had not set out upon his journey with the intention of
+travelling with such tag-rag and bobtail as this lad. So far the
+society into which he had fallen had been of an unfortunate kind; he
+had had enough of Sam Slater, and of Sam Slater's sort.
+
+"I'm not going with you; I'm going by myself."
+
+"Alright, matey, every bloke's free to choose his pals."
+
+The urchin turned a series of catherine-wheels right under Bertie's
+nose. Then, with a whistle of unearthly shrillness, he set off
+running, and disappeared into the night. Bertie was left no wiser than
+before.
+
+He dragged along till he reached Addison Road A gentleman in evening
+dress came across the road, smoking a cigar. He was of middle age,
+irreproachably attired, with nothing of Sam Slater about him.
+
+"If you please, sir, can you tell me how far it is to London?"
+
+The gentleman stopped short, puffing at his cigar.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Bertie repeated his inquiry. For answer, the gentleman took him by the
+shoulder, led him to a neighbouring lamp-post, and looked him in the
+face.
+
+"What are you doing here? You look respectable; you're from the
+country, aren't you?"
+
+Bertie hesitated; he remembered the effect produced by his incautious
+frankness on Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.
+
+"Speak up; you have got a tongue, haven't you? What are you doing
+here? run away from home?"
+
+The lad, giving a sudden twist, freed himself from the gentleman's
+grasp, and ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. The stranger,
+puffing at his cigar as he stood under the lamp-post, laughed as he
+peered after the retreating boy. But Bertie, despite his weariness,
+still ran on. He dimly wondered, whether he bore about with him some
+outward sign by which any one could tell he was a runaway. He made up
+his mind that he would ask no more questions if he ran the risk of
+meeting such home thrusts in reply.
+
+He wandered onwards till he reached Kensington Gardens, and then the
+Albert Hall. There was a concert going on, and the place was all lit
+up. He stared with amazement at the enormous building, imperfectly
+revealed in the darkness of the night. Carriages and cabs were going
+to and fro. Some one touched him on the shoulder. It was a gorgeous
+footman, with powdered hair, in splendid livery. His magnificence
+dazzled him.
+
+"I say, you boy, do you know Thurloe Square?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"What do you mean? are you gettin' at me? You take a message for me to
+Thurloe Square, and there'll be a bob when you get there."
+
+"But I don't know Thurloe Square; I'm a stranger, sir."
+
+"A stranger, are you? Then what do you mean by standing there, as
+though you was born just over the way? Get on out of it! I shouldn't
+be surprised if you was after pockethandkerchiefs;--what's your little
+lay? I'll tell the policeman to keep an eye on you, telling me you
+don't know Thurloe Square;--oh yes, I jest dersay!"
+
+The footman appeared to be angry; Bertie slunk away. He crossed the
+road to the park; a gate was open; people were going in and out. He
+entered too. It looked quiet inside; perhaps there was grass to sit
+upon. He went up towards the Serpentine, and had not gone far when he
+came to a seat. On this he sat. Never was seat more welcome; it was
+ecstasy to rest. He was dimly conscious of what was going on; before
+he knew it he was fast asleep.
+
+Time passed; still he slept. A perfect sleep untroubled by dreams.
+Some one else approached the seat, some one in the last stage of
+raggedness, so exhausted that he seemed hardly able to drag one foot
+behind the other. He, too, sat down; he, too, fell fast asleep.
+
+Some one else approached,--a woman with a baby and a watercress
+basket. The baby was crying faintly; the woman tried to comfort it,
+speaking to in a droning monotone:
+
+"I've nothing to give you, bairn," she said; "I've nothing to give
+you, bairn! God help us all!"
+
+A policeman came along. When he reached the seat he stopped, and
+flashed the bull's-eye lantern in the faces of the sleepers. The woman
+woke up instantly, perhaps used to such a visitation.
+
+"I'm going, sir; I only sat down for a moment to rest awhile."
+
+The baby began to cry again.
+
+"I've nothing to give you, bairn," she said; "I've nothing to give
+you, bairn! God help us all!"
+
+It seemed to be a stereotyped form of speech. She got up, with the
+baby and her basket, and walked away, the baby crying as she went. The
+policeman remained behind, flashing his bull's-eye.
+
+"Now then, this won't do, you know; wake up, you two."
+
+He took the ragged sleeper by the shoulder, and shook him; he seemed
+to wake in a kind of stupor, and staggered off without a word. The
+policeman turned to Bertie.
+
+"Now then!"
+
+The lad woke with a start; he thought some one was playing tricks with
+him.
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"I want you to clear out of this, that's what I want."
+
+Opening his eyes Bertie was for a moment dazzled by the glaring light;
+then he saw at the back the policeman's form, looming grim and awful.
+Possessed by a sudden fear, he sprang to his feet, and ran as for his
+life.
+
+"Now I wonder what you've been up to?" murmured the policeman. "I
+don't remember seeing your face before; I should say you was a new
+hand, you was."
+
+Bertie ran, without knowing where he was running to; across the road,
+under a rail. He found himself upon the grass. It was quite dark,
+mysterious, strange. He could hardly be followed there, so he thought
+at least, and strolled more slowly on. But he was very tired still,
+and, yielding to his weariness, when he had gone a little farther, he
+sat down upon the grass to rest.
+
+And this was the Land of Golden Dreams! this was his entrance into the
+promised land! A gentle breeze murmured through the night; there was a
+sound as of rippling grass and of rustling leaves; he could see no
+stars; a heavy dew was falling; the grass was damp; it was chilly; the
+breeze blew cold; he shivered with hunger and with cold. His head was
+nodding on his breast; almost unconsciously he lay full length upon
+the sodden grass, and again fell fast asleep.
+
+But this time it was not a dreamless slumber; it was a continued
+nightmare. He was oppressed with horrid visions, with continuous
+strugglings against hideous forms of terror. Unrefreshed he woke. It
+was broad day; but there had come a sudden change of weather, the
+skies were overcast and dull. His limbs were aching; he was stiff, and
+wet, and cold; he was soaked to the skin; his clothes stuck to his
+body. Shivering, he struggled to his feet, rising with pain. The place
+was deserted. Three was a solitary horseman in the distance; the
+horseman and the lad were the only living things in sight.
+
+It began to drizzle; the wind had risen; it whistled in the air. The
+fine weather had departed as though never to return. Bertie's teeth
+were chattering; he felt dull and stupid, ignorant of what he ought to
+do.
+
+He began walking through the rain across the grass. How cold he was,
+and oh! how hungry. He must have something to eat, and something warm
+to drink. He thought of his money; he felt for his fourpence; it was
+gone!
+
+The discovery stunned him. He could not realize the fact at once, but
+searched in each of his pockets laboriously, one after the other. He
+turned them inside out; felt for holes through which it might have
+fallen. He remembered that he had put it in the right hand pocket of
+his trousers; he examined it again and again, in a sort of stupor. In
+vain; it was gone!
+
+He retraced his steps. It might have fallen out of his pockets in the
+night; he fell upon his knees and searched. There was no sign of it
+about. He was without a sou, and he was so hungry and so cold, and it
+was raining, and he was wet to the skin.
+
+He could not realize his loss. He wandered stupidly on, stopping at
+times, feeling in his pockets again and again. It could not be gone.
+But there was no money there. This was his Land of Golden Dreams; this
+was the object of his journey; this was the result of his dash into
+the world; he was cold, and he was hungry, and he saw no signs of
+anything to eat.
+
+At last he left the park behind. He went out by the Piccadilly gate,
+as miserable a figure as any to be seen, stained with mud, soaked with
+wet, hungry and forlorn. It was early. The early omnibuses were
+bringing crowds of business men to town. The drivers were muffled in
+their mackintoshes, the outside passengers crouched beneath their
+umbrellas. Everything and every one looked cold, and miserable, and
+wet; Bertie looked worst of all, for he looked hungry too.
+
+How hungry! There had been moments at Mecklemburg House when hunger
+had made itself felt, but never hunger such as this. The very worst
+meal Mr. Fletcher had ever set before his pupils--and his system of
+dietary was not his strongest point--Bertie would have welcomed as a
+feast. Even a dry crust of stale bread would have been welcome; a cup
+of the wishy-washiest tea would have been nectar of the gods.
+
+He was footsore too. As he wandered by the Piccadilly mansions and
+approached the shops, he became conscious that his feet were
+blistered. It was a discomfort to be obliged to put them to the
+ground. His right foot, in particular, had a blister on the heel, and
+another on the ball of the foot. It seemed to him that every moment
+these were getting larger. He would have liked to have taken his boot
+and sock off and examine his injuries. He was aware, too, that he was
+dirty; more than two days had passed since he had come in contact with
+soap and water. Once upon a time he had had a vague idea that it was a
+glorious sport of the heroic character to be dirty; now he would have
+liked to have had a wash. But he could neither wash nor examine his
+feet in the middle of Piccadilly.
+
+The presence of the shops caused him an additional pang. The display
+of costly goods in their windows seemed to add to his misery. Even the
+possession of his fourpence, as compared to the value of such
+treasures, would have placed him at a disadvantage.
+
+But without it he was poor indeed. He was fascinated by the fruit
+shops; all the fruits of the earth, those in season and those out,
+seemed gathered there. He glued his nose to the window and looked and
+longed.
+
+"Now then, what are you doing there? move on out of that!"
+
+A policeman, in a shiny cape, from which the wet was dripping, roughly
+shouldered him on. He was not even allowed to look. This was not at
+all the sort of thing he had expected. His idea of his entry into the
+great city had been altogether different. He was to come as the king
+of boys, if not of men; as something remarkable, as a heaven-born
+conqueror; something to be talked of; the centre of all eyes directly
+he was seen. To sleep upon the sodden grass, to be penniless, cold,
+wet, and hungry, to be shouldered by policemen, to be bidden to move
+on, these things had not entered into his calculations when that night
+at Mecklemburg House he had dreamed those golden dreams.
+
+He struggled on; his feet became more painful; he was limping; rest he
+must. He turned down a bye-street, and then down a friendly entry, and
+leaned against the wall. Was this what he had come for, to lean in the
+rain against a wall, and to be thankful for the chance of leaning? He
+had not read in lives of Robin Hood, and Turpin, and Crusoe, and Jack
+the Giant-Killer, of episodes like this. But then, perhaps, his
+acquaintance with the histories of those gentlemen was not so perfect
+as it might have been.
+
+Suddenly he heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Some one
+was coming along the side-street as though racing for his life. A lad
+about his own age came darting round the corner in such terrific haste
+that he almost ran into Bertie's arms.
+
+"Catch hold! here's a present for you."
+
+The runner gasped out the words, without pausing in his flight. Like
+an arrow from a bow he darted on, leaving Bertie standing there. To
+his amazement Bailey found that he had thrust something in his hand;
+his surprise was intensified when he discovered what it was,--it was a
+purse. The runner had turned another corner and was already out of
+sight.
+
+Bertie, in his bewilderment, could do nothing else but gaze. Such
+unexpected generosity, coming at such a moment, was so astonishing
+that it was almost as though the gift had fallen from the skies. A
+good fat purse! It was like the stories after all. He could feel that
+it was heavy; he almost thought that he could feel that it was full.
+Suppose it were full of gold! Had it fallen from the skies?
+
+All this occupied an instant. The next he was conscious that some one
+else was coming up the street; apparently some one else in equal
+haste; apparently more than one. Cries rang in his ears; he could not
+quite distinguish the words which were shouted, but at their sound,
+for some reason, a cold chill went down his back.
+
+Some one came round the corner; some one who seized him as though he
+were some wild thing.
+
+"Got you, have I! thought you'd double, did you, and slip out when I'd
+run past? Artful, but it didn't quite do,--not this time, at any
+rate."
+
+His captor shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. It was a policeman, a
+huge, bearded fellow, six feet high. Bertie was like a plaything in
+his hands. On hearing some one coming, the boy, without any thought of
+what he was doing, had slipped the hand which held the purse behind
+his back. The policeman was down on it at once.
+
+"What's that you've got there?"
+
+He twisted the boy round, revealing the hand which held the purse. He
+took it away.
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? You hadn't got time to throw it away, I
+suppose, or perhaps you thought it was too good to lose--worth running
+a little risk for, eh? Well, you've run the risk just once too often."
+
+By this time others had come into the entry, and now Bertie recognised
+the words which he had heard. What they had been shouting was, "Stop
+thief!"
+
+The new comers showed a lively interest in the captive. A man, who
+looked like a respectable mechanic, reckoned him up.
+
+"That's not the boy," he said.
+
+"Oh, isn't it? It doesn't look like it, not when he was hiding here,
+and holding the purse in his hand!"
+
+The policeman held up the purse with an air of smiling scorn.
+
+"Had he got the purse? Well, whether he had or whether he hadn't, all
+I can say is he isn't the boy who took it; I'm willing to take my oath
+to that. He was a different-looking sort of boy altogether, and I was
+standing as close to him as I am to you."
+
+"I never took the purse," said Bertie, with dogged lips and dogged
+eyes. He realized that great trouble had come upon him, as he writhed
+and twisted in the policeman's hand. "It was given to me."
+
+"Yes, I daresay, and by a particular friend, no doubt. You come along
+with me, my lad, and tell that tale elsewhere."
+
+The policeman began to drag the lad along the entry.
+
+"The boy will go quietly, I daresay, if you give him a chance,"
+observed the man who had previously spoken. "However it may be about
+the purse being found upon him, I'm prepared to prove that that's not
+the boy who took it."
+
+"Well, you can come and give your evidence, can't you? It's no good
+standing arguing here; the lad had got the purse, and I've got the
+lad, and that's quite enough for me."
+
+"Where are you going to take him to?"
+
+"Marlborough Street Police Court."
+
+"All right, I'll come round and say what I've got to say. My name's
+William Standing,--I'm a picture framer; I'll go and tell my governor
+where I'm off to, and I'll be there as soon as you are."
+
+The man walked away. The policeman proceeded to haul Bertie off with
+him again. The boy was speechless. He was tired, his feet were sore;
+the policeman's pace was almost more than he could manage. In
+consequence, every now and then he received a jerk, which all but
+pitched him forward on his nose.
+
+"Why don't you leave the boy alone?" inquired a man in the little
+crowd, which walked alongside in a sort of procession, whose ideas of
+a policeman's duty were apparently vague. "He ain't done no 'arm to
+you."
+
+"Why, bless yer, if it wasn't for them little 'uns them policemen
+would have no one to collar; they daren't lay a finger on a man of
+your build, old pal."
+
+This remark, from another member of the crowd, produced a laugh. The
+original speaker was a diminutive specimen of his kind, whom the
+policeman could have carried in his arms with the greatest of ease.
+
+When they regained Piccadilly they came upon the victim of the
+robbery. This was a portly, middle-aged female, who was a pleasant
+combination of mackintoshes and agitation. She was the centre of an
+interested circle, into whose sympathetic ears she was pouring her
+tale of woe. The arrival of the policeman with his captive created a
+diversion.
+
+"Is this the boy?" inquired the constable.
+
+"Have you got my purse?" replied the lady. "It contained thirty-seven
+pounds, fifteen shillings, and threepence, in two ten pound notes, two
+fives,--I've got the numbers in my purse,--seven pounds in gold, four
+of them half-sovereigns, fifteen shillings in silver, and a threepenny
+bit; and whatever I shall do without it I don't know. I'm the landlady
+of the 'Rising Sun,' and I was going to pay my wine-merchant's bill,
+and I said to my daughter only this morning, 'Take all that money
+loose I didn't ought to do. No, Mary Ann, a cheque it ought to be.'
+But Mary Ann's that flighty, though she's in her thirties, though
+twenty-two she tries to pass herself to be----"
+
+The policeman endeavoured to stop the lady's flood of eloquence.
+
+"You can tell us all that when we get to the station. You'll have to
+come with me to identify the purse and charge the boy."
+
+"I don't want to charge the boy, all I want is to identify the purse.
+As for the young limb of a boy, I'd like to give him a good banging
+with my unbrella, that I would!"
+
+The lady shook her umbrella at the boy in a way which caused the crowd
+to laugh. But there was no laughter left in Bertie.
+
+"We can't have any banging here," said the policeman, who was anxious
+to get on. "If you take my advice, you'll call a cab and let us all go
+comfortably together."
+
+"Me go in a cab with a policeman and that there limb of a boy; not if
+I know it! I've kept the 'Rising Sun' respectable these six-and-twenty
+years,--sixteen years in my husband's time,--as respectable a man as
+ever breathed, though cherry brandy was his failing,--and ten long
+years a widow, and go to prison with a policeman and that there limb
+of a boy in a cab----"
+
+"Nobody's asked you to go to prison," said the policeman, whose
+patience was beginning to fade. "I can't stand talking here all day.
+Now then, boy, best foot forward, march!"
+
+Bertie's poor best foot was blistered, so that the policeman had to
+assist him, with occasional awkward jerks, to march to jail.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XV
+
+                 OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE
+
+
+There was a meeting in Trafalgar Square that day. Some people thought
+they had a grievance, and resolved to air it. No matter what the
+grievance was; the world is very full of them, and too many of them
+are hard and stern, and old and deep, difficult to be removed. But the
+authorities had decided that this particular grievance should not be
+aired in this particular way; they would permit no meeting to be held
+in Trafalgar Square. The result was, contests with the police. The
+people with the grievance tried hard to air it; there were ugly
+rushes, the excitement spread, and in the neighbourhood adjoining
+there was something very like a riot.
+
+One procession of the people with a grievance making for the Square,
+had been met by the police and turned aside. Part of the processioners
+had been turned into Piccadilly, and were being driven along that
+thoroughfare, helter skelter, just as the procession which escorted
+Bertie and his captor approached. The policeman saw his danger, and
+tried to turn aside. It was too late. The fugitives coming
+tumultuously along, and seeing only a single constable, made a rush in
+his direction.
+
+In a moment Bertie found himself the centre of a pushing, yelling,
+struggling crowd, with the policeman holding on to him like grim
+death. Above the tumult could be distinguished the accents of the
+landlady of the "Rising Sun."
+
+"I'm the landlady of the 'Rising Sun,' and I've kept the house
+respectable these six-and-twenty years--ten long years a widow, and
+sixteen years a respectable married woman--and it's a sin and a shame
+that a respectable female----"
+
+But the crowd was no respecter of persons; the lady was hustled on one
+side, where her voice was heard no more. Bertie became conscious that
+a contest was going on for the possession of himself. The policeman
+stuck to him with extraordinary tenacity; with equal tenacity the
+crowd endeavoured to drag him away. Bertie suffered. Without wasting
+any time in inquiring as to the rights of the case, his new friends
+did their best to deprive the law of its prey. But they directed their
+efforts with misguided zeal. If they had left him to his fate, Bertie
+could only have suffered imprisonment at the worst; now he ran a risk
+of being drawn and quartered. They apparently did their best to drag
+his arms and legs out of their sockets; he felt his clothes giving way
+in all directions. Through all the heat and turmoil he felt that if
+this was town he preferred the country.
+
+In the unequal strife the constable, unsupported, was vanquished in
+the end. It was well for Bailey the end came when it did; if he had
+stuck to his prize much longer the pieces of a boy would have strewed
+the street. Some one in the crowd struck the constable in the face
+with a stick. Putting up his hand to ward off a second blow, Bertie
+was instantly snatched from his grasp. His capture was so unsuspected,
+that the two zealous friends who were doing their best to tear him
+limb from limb, recoiling backwards, loosed their hold, and let him
+fall upon the ground.
+
+"Get up, youngster, and hook it! The peelers will have you again if
+you don't look sharp; there's a lot of them coming down the street."
+
+A workman stooped over the lad as he lay in the mud and assisted him
+to rise. He regained his feet, feeling stunned and bewildered. His
+friendly ally gave him a push, which sent him staggering into the
+thick of the crowd. It was only just in time to prevent the constable
+from catching hold of him again. The confusion suddenly became worse
+confounded.
+
+"The peelers! the peelers!" was the cry.
+
+There was a trampling of hoofs; the crowd parted in all directions,
+each seeking safety for himself. Half a dozen mounted constables went
+galloping through.
+
+"Now you cut and run! If you aren't quick about it they'll nail you
+again as sure as eggs!"
+
+It was the friendly workman urging Bertie to flight. He did not need
+much urging, but made the best of his way through the crowd, the
+memory of the policeman's grip still upon him. No one tried to stop
+him. Every one, including apparently his original captor, was too much
+engaged in his own affairs. He did not wait to see what became of the
+landlady of the "Rising Sun," though he seemed to hear her indignant
+accents above the tumult and the din. As fast as his wearied legs
+would carry him he tore away.
+
+All that day he had nothing to eat. He saw nothing again of the
+policeman, nor of the crowd, nor of the lady who had lost her purse
+with its thirty-seven pounds, fifteen shillings, and a threepenny bit.
+But he had been in custody; he had signalized his entry into the Land
+of Golden Dreams by being within an ace of jail; the thought was with
+him all the day. Every policeman he saw he shrunk away from, and every
+policeman seemed to follow his shrinking with suspicious eyes. He was
+in continual expectation of feeling a hand upon his shoulder, and
+another experience of how it felt to be dragged through the streets.
+
+It never ceased to rain; yet the rain did not come down fast, but
+always in the same slow, persistent drizzle. It was a cold rain, and
+the wind, which every now and then became almost tempestuous, was
+cold. Every one seemed to be in a bad temper; there were sour faces
+everywhere. The drivers of the various vehicles quarrelled with one
+another, and cursed and swore. Pedestrians hustled each other into the
+gutter; each seemed to be persuaded that the other did his best to get
+into his way.
+
+Bertie had paid three previous visits to London,--this made the
+fourth. On each of the previous occasions he had been accompanied by
+his father; this was the first time he had come alone. Many a time
+that day he wished that he had postponed his personal exploration till
+a little later on; about the middle of the century after next, he was
+persuaded, would have been time enough for him.
+
+His first visit had been as one of a family party to see the
+pantomime. There had been a morning performance; they had left home
+early in the morning, returning late at night. That day was a
+red-letter day in Bertie's calendar.
+
+"When I went to see the pantomime," was the words which formed a
+prelude to many a tale of the wondrous sights which he had seen.
+
+The second time he came up with father alone. The doctor had had some
+meeting to attend at the hospital at which he had spent his student
+days, and Bertie bore him company. Afterwards a visit had been paid to
+Madame Tussaud's and the Zoological Gardens. But the climax of the day
+had been the dinner at the restaurant in the evening before returning
+home. Bertie always thought that he had seen life when he looked
+backwards at that dinner in the after days. Champagne had accompanied
+that repast, and a band had played.
+
+But the crowning visit had been the third. A certain
+cousin--feminine--had been a member of the party, and she alone would
+have canonized the day. They had gone to the exhibition and dined
+there, and seen the illuminations, and he had told himself that London
+was a city of delights, a paradise below, fairyland to-day.
+
+This point of view did not occur to him with so much force on this,
+the occasion of his fourth visit. As he struggled up and down the wet
+and greasy streets, with his blistered feet and his empty stomach,
+anything more unlike a city of delights it seemed to him that he had
+never seen. He was continually getting into everybody's way, always
+being hustled into the gutter, and once, when an irate elderly
+gentleman sent him flying backwards to assume a sitting posture in the
+centre of a heap of mud, everybody laughed. But it was no joke to him.
+The elderly gentleman was a little sorry when he saw what he had done.
+
+"You oughtn't to get in my way! The police didn't ought to allow boys
+like you to hang about the streets!"
+
+That was the way he expressed his penitence, and then passed on.
+Bertie picked himself up at leisure. He was a sorry sight, and when
+the people saw the spectacle he presented they laughed again.
+
+"If I was you I'd sow seeds in that there mud you've got on you; it'd
+be as good as 'arf a hacre of ground."
+
+This was the comment of a paper-seller. He resumed his calling,
+shouting, "Hecho! Fourth hedition! Hecho!" But some one else had a
+word to say. This was a girl who was selling flowers for button-holes.
+
+"You let me stick these 'ere flowers in that there sile you've just
+picked up. They'll grow like winkin'!"
+
+All this was hard enough to bear, but the worst was the hunger and
+thirst. Although it rained all day, his thirst remained unquenched.
+
+Toward evening he found himself in Covent Garden. As he looked shyly
+round his hopes rose just a little. To begin with, there seemed
+shelter. If he might only be allowed to stay in this place all night!
+
+On the ground was vegetable refuse, ancient cabbage leaves, odds and
+ends of garbage which littered the place. If he could only pick up one
+or two of those cabbage leaves and see how far they would go towards
+staying his appetite! Surely no one could object to that, since they
+were placed there only to be thrown away. So he began picking up the
+cabbage leaves.
+
+"Now then, what are you doing there? None of that now! Clear out of
+this, or I'll clear you out, and precious quick!"
+
+At the sound of a strident voice Bertie trembled as though he had been
+guilty of a heinous crime. He dropped the cabbage leaves out of his
+hands again. A little man, who was apparently some one in authority,
+had suddenly appeared from behind one of the pillars, and was shouting
+at Bertie with the full force of his lungs. Like a frightened ewe the
+hero of yesterday gave a look round and slunk away. He was
+disappointed of his meal. The ground was evidently holy ground, and
+the cabbage leaves were evidently sacred cabbage leaves. The
+disappointment seemed to make his hunger worse. He had scarcely
+strength enough to slink away. He put his arms around one of the
+pillars, and, leaning his head against it, cried.
+
+This was what had become of all his golden dreams! Of what stuff are
+heroes made?
+
+"I say, young one, what's in the wind? Any one trodden on your
+precious toes? You don't seem so chirpy as some."
+
+Bertie looked up through his tears to see who the speaker was. A
+little time ago to have been caught crying would have covered him with
+shame, now all shame of that sort seemed to have gone for ever. He
+vaguely feared that this was some new Jack-in-office again bidding him
+move on; but he was wrong.
+
+The speaker was a boy about his own age; but there was something about
+him which at a very first glance showed that he was different from
+other boys. He was respectably dressed; the chief peculiarity about
+his clothing being that it seemed to fit him like his skin. A tighter
+pair of trousers surely never imprisoned human legs. His waistcoat
+fitted him without a crease, and it seemed that he had been made for
+his coat, and not his coat for him. He wore a billycock hat of a
+particularly knowing pattern, set rakishly upon the side of his head;
+a stand-up collar made it difficult for him to look anywhere except
+straight in front of him; and an enormous pin, set in the centre of a
+gorgeous blue necktie, made his costume quite complete.
+
+Even more remarkable than his costume was his face. It has been said
+of the famous Lord Chancellor, Lord Thurlow, that no one could be so
+wise as Lord Thurlow looked; it was almost equally impossible that any
+one could be so knowing as the expression of his countenance declared
+this young gentleman to be. It was an unhealthy face, an unpleasant
+face, with something in it which reminded you of how Methuselah might
+have appeared in his green old age. It was never still; the eyes
+seemed to be all over the place at once; it seemed to be continually
+listening to catch the first sound of something or some one drawing
+near.
+
+"Down on your luck? What are you piping your eye for? Does that sort
+of thing suit your constitution? Turn round to the light, and let's
+have a look what you're like; don't keep hugging that pillar as though
+it was your ma."
+
+Through all his misery Bertie saw that this young gentleman was
+centuries older than himself, though they had probably entered the
+world within the same twelve months. Besides, he was too prostrated to
+resist, even had he wished, and he allowed the other to drag him into
+a position in which he might study his features at his leisure.
+
+"I thought so,--directly I caught sight of your back I thought I knew
+your size. Wasn't you in Sackville Street this morning?"
+
+"In Sackville Street?" repeated Bertie vaguely.
+
+"Yes, in Sackville Street, my bonny boy. Never heard tell of Sackville
+Street before, I suppose? So I should think by the look of you. Wasn't
+it you I pitched the old girl's purse to?"
+
+A light was dawning upon Bertie's mind.
+
+"Was it you who stole the purse?"
+
+The other gave a quick look round, as though the question took him by
+surprise--if anything so self-possessed could be said to be taken by
+surprise.
+
+"Stow your cackle! Do you want to have me put away? Where do you live
+when you're at home? You must be a sharp one, though you do look so
+jolly green! I thought you'd be buckled to a certainty! I never
+expected to see you walking about as large as life. It gave me quite a
+start when I saw you hugging that pillar as though you loved it. How
+did you make tracks?"
+
+Bertie was trying to collect his thoughts. This boy before him was a
+thief, a miserable hound who tried to escape the consequences of his
+own misdeeds by putting the odium of his crimes upon the innocent. But
+Bertie was alone; alone in the great city, hungry, thirsty, tired,
+wet, and cold. Human companionship was human companionship after all.
+And this boy looked so much more prosperous than he himself was.
+Yesterday he would have done great things; to-day he would have
+welcomed a crust of bread coming even from this thief.
+
+"The policeman wanted to lock me up."
+
+"No! did he though? Funny ones those policemen are! they're always
+wanting to go locking people up. And did he cop the purse?"
+
+"He took the purse away from me."
+
+"And how come you to be making love to that there pillar, instead of
+enjoying yourself in a nice warm cell? I suppose you didn't give the
+policeman one in the nose and knock him down?"
+
+"We met some people in the street, and they made him let me go."
+
+"Did they though? that was kind of them! When policemen was making
+free with me I wish I was always meeting people in the streets who
+would make them interfering bobbies let me go. And now, who are you
+when you're at home? We're having quite a nice little conversation,
+ain't we, you and I? Glad I met you, quite a treat!" He raised his hat
+to express his sense of the satisfaction which he felt. "You don't
+look as though you were raised in these 'ere parts."
+
+Bertie hung his head; he was ashamed: ashamed of many things, but most
+of all just then of the company he was in. And yet, if he turned this
+thief adrift, where else should he find a friend? And he was so tired,
+so hungry, so conscious of his own helplessness.
+
+"You very nearly got me locked up this morning," was his answer.
+
+"Well, my noble marquis, wasn't it better for you to be locked up than
+me? It'll have to come, you know--if not to-morrow the day after."
+
+To Bertie this view of the matter had not occurred before. It had not
+entered into his calculations that a journey to the Land of Golden
+Dreams would necessitate the process of locking-up.
+
+"Are you on the cross, or only mouching around?"
+
+This inquiry was Greek to Bertie, and his questioner perceived that he
+failed to understand.
+
+"You're a fly bloke, that you are! What's your little game? You
+haven't got a fortune in your pocket, or a marquis for a pa? What do
+you do to live? I suppose you ain't reckoning to die just yet awhile."
+
+"I wish I could do something, but I can't."
+
+"Oh, you wish you could do something, do you, but unfortunately you
+can't! Well, you are a trial for the nerves! Have you got any money?"
+
+Bertie hung his head still lower. To be despised by a thief! Was this
+the result of all his dreams?
+
+"No!"
+
+"Got any friends?"
+
+"I've run away from them."
+
+And here the boy broke down. Turning, and leaning against a pillar, he
+burst into a passion of tears. The other eyed him for a few moments,
+whistling beneath his breath.
+
+"That's the time of day, is it? I thought you were something of that
+kind from the first, I did. What did you run away for?"
+
+Bertie could not have told him to save his life. To have told this
+thief that he had started on a journey to the Land of Golden Dreams;
+that he had resolved to emulate the doings of his heroes, Dick Turpin,
+Crusoe, Jack the Giant-Killer, and Robin Hood! Oh, ye gods! and now to
+be crying against a post!
+
+"Father living?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Mother?"
+
+No answer.
+
+How well he knew that he loved his parents now! The mere mention of
+the word "mother" made him hysterical with woe. To have come within
+reach of his mother's loving arms, to have been folded to her breast!
+If he could only come within reach of her again!
+
+The other stood observing him with critical eyes, whistling all the
+time.
+
+"You seem to have had a considerable lot of water locked up tight. I
+should think you would have bust if you hadn't had a chance to let it
+go. What are you a-howling at? Crying for your mammy?"
+
+For answer Bertie turned with a sudden ferocity and struck at him
+savagely. But the blow was struck at random, and the other had no
+difficulty in avoiding it by stepping aside.
+
+"Hollo! don't you come that game again, or I'll show you how to use a
+bunch of fives."
+
+But Bertie showed no further signs of fight. It had only been an
+almost childish display of passionate spite at the other's coarse
+allusion to his "mammy"--the mother whom he was now so sure he loved
+so well. Even the passion of his tears died away into a whimper. He
+had not strength enough to continue in a passion long.
+
+"Are you hungry?" asked the other.
+
+"I'm starving!"
+
+"Ah, I've been hungry, and more than once, and it isn't nice. I
+shouldn't be surprised if you found it rather nasty, especially if you
+aren't used to it. Now, look here; let's have a look at you."
+
+He went close up to Bertie and looked him straight in the face with
+his keen, restless eyes. Bertie returned the look as well as he could
+with his tear-stained orbs.
+
+"You look a game 'un, somehow; and you look grit. I suppose it's
+feeling peckish you don't like. There's a lot of talk about courage
+what's always the same, but I don't believe there ever was a chap who
+kept up his pluck upon an empty belly. I've been hungry more than
+once. Now, look here; if I take you to a crib I know of, and set you
+up in vittles and a shake-down, will you keep your mouth shut fast?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean."
+
+"Oh, yes, you do; you're not so soft as that. If I act square with
+you, will you act square with me?"
+
+"I always do act square," said Bertie.
+
+"Very well, then, come along; if you do, then you're the sort for me.
+I did you a bad turn this morning, now I'll do you a good one to make
+up."
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XVI
+
+                          THE CAPTAIN'S ROOM
+
+
+Trusting himself to his companion's guidance, Bertie went where the
+other chose to take him. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+thought a good many times before he would have allowed himself to be
+led blindfold he knew not where; but tired, wet, cold, and so hungry,
+he resigned himself to circumstances. He could not possibly find
+himself in a worse position than his present one; at least, so it
+seemed to him. Certainly it had not been part of his plans to be a
+companion of thieves; but then nothing which had befallen him had been
+part of his plans.
+
+His companion led him to a court within a stone's throw of Drury Lane,
+and was just about to turn the corner when something caught his eyes.
+He walked straight on, taking Bertie with him.
+
+"There's a peeler. I don't want him to see me go down there; it isn't
+quite what I care for to let them gentry have their eyes upon my
+family mansion."
+
+What he meant Bertie failed to understand. He saw no one in sight to
+cause alarm, and indeed it almost seemed that his companion had eyes
+behind his head, for, as quickly appeared, the policeman was at their
+back some considerable distance off. They reached the entry to another
+court, and down this his companion strutted, as though he was anxious
+all the world should have their eyes upon him. But no sooner was he in
+than he slunk into a doorway.
+
+"Come in here, my bonny boy, and let the gentleman go past. He's
+taking a little walk for the benefit of his health, poor chap. They're
+always taking walks, them peelers are. I wish they'd stop at home; I
+really do."
+
+A measured tramp, tramp, tramp approached. The thief put his hand over
+Bertie's mouth as though he were fearful he would make a sound. The
+policeman reached the entry, paused a moment as if to peer into its
+depths, and then passed on. When he had gone the thief spoke again.
+
+"Good-bye, dear boy; sorry to lose you, but the best of friends must
+part. Come along, my rib-stone pippin; you and me'll go home to tea."
+
+Satisfied that the coast was clear, the two ventured out of the
+doorway, reached the open street again, and this time turned without
+hesitation into the court which they had passed before. It was unlit
+by any lamp, and was so narrow that it was not difficult to believe
+that a man standing on a roof on one side of the way might, if he were
+an active fellow, spring with a single bound on to the roof on the
+opposite side. Fortunately it was not long, the whole consisting of
+apparently not more than twelve or fifteen houses. At the extreme end
+Bertie's companion stopped.
+
+The place was a _cul-de-sac_. It ended in a dead wall. But on the
+other side of the wall towered a house of what, in such a
+neighbourhood, seemed unusual dimensions. The entrance proper was in
+another street, and the original architect had probably had no
+intention that an entry should be effected from where they were. In a
+recess in the wall, so hidden as to be invisible to Bertie in that
+light, and so placed as to appear to be a door opening into the last
+house in the court in which they actually stood, was an ancient wooden
+door, from which the paint had all disappeared owing to the action of
+time and weather. The two boys stood still for a moment, Bertie dimly
+wondering what was going to happen next. It seemed to him that he
+really was an actor in a dream at last--the strangest dream he had
+ever dreamed. Then the thief whistled a few lines of some uncouth
+melody in a low but singularly piercing tone. A pause again; then he
+gave four taps against the ancient wooden door, with a momentary pause
+between each one. Bertie had heard of mysterious methods of effecting
+entrances into mysterious houses, and had been charmed with them; but
+he concluded that they were perhaps better in theory than practice. He
+would not have liked to have been kept hanging about in the wet such
+an unconscionable length of time every time he wanted to go home.
+
+At last the door was opened--just as Bertie was beginning to think
+that the mysterious proceedings would have to be all gone through
+again.
+
+"Who's there?" inquired a husky voice.
+
+It seemed that after all the whistling and the tapping caution were
+required.
+
+"All right, mother; it's only me and a friend. Come on, Ikey; cut
+along inside."
+
+Bertie, thus addressed as "Ikey," was about to "cut along inside,"
+when he found the way barred by the old woman who acted as janitrix.
+She was a very unpleasant-looking old woman, old and grisly, and very
+much in want of soap and water: quite unpleasant-looking enough to be
+called a "hag"--and she smelt of gin. In her hand she carried a
+guttering tallow candle in a battered old tin candlestick. Hitherto
+she had held it behind her back, as if to conceal the presence of a
+light from passers-by. Now she raised it above her head so that its
+light might fall on Bertie's face. He thought he had never seen a more
+disagreeable-looking lady.
+
+"Who's the friend?"
+
+"What's that to you? He's a friend of mine, and square; that's quite
+enough for you. Come along, my pippin."
+
+The answer reminded Bertie of Sam Slater. Even then he wondered if he
+had not better, after all, trust himself to the tender mercies of the
+streets; but the other did not allow much time for hesitation. He
+caught Bailey by the arm, and half led, half dragged him up a flight
+of steep stone steps. The old woman with the candlestick sent after
+them what sounded very like a volley of imprecations, while she closed
+and locked and barred the door.
+
+The thief led the way into a fairly sized room, which was lighted by
+another tallow candle. The one which the old woman brought with her
+when she entered made the pair. There was no carpet on the floor,
+which was extremely dirty; a rickety deal table and four or five
+rickety chairs formed all the furniture. There was a bright fire
+burning in an antiquated fireplace, from which the ashes had
+apparently never been removed for months, and the atmosphere of the
+room was distinctly close.
+
+"What have you got to eat?" asked the thief, when the old woman
+reappeared.
+
+"You're always ready enough to eat, but you re not so ready to pay for
+what you've eaten. You boys is all the same; you'd rob an old woman of
+her teeth."
+
+The crone tottered to a cupboard in a corner of the room. The allusion
+to her teeth was not a happy one, for a solitary fang which protruded
+from her hideous jaws seemed to be all the teeth she still possessed.
+From the cupboard she produced a couple of chipped plates, a loaf of
+bread, and a piece of uncooked steak, which probably weighed several
+pounds. The thief's eyes glistened at sight of it.
+
+"That's the tuck! Cut me off a chunk, and I'll frizzle it in two
+threes."
+
+The old woman cut off a piece which weighed at least a pound and a
+half. A frying-pan was produced from some unexpected corner. The young
+rogue, disencumbering himself of his coat and waistcoat, immediately
+elected himself to the office of cook. A short dialogue took place
+between the old woman and himself while the cooking was going on.
+
+"What luck have you had?"
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"That means you ain't had none. Ah, Freddy, you ain't what you was.
+I've known you when you allays came home with your pockets full of
+pretty things."
+
+"You ain't what you was, neither."
+
+A pause. A savoury smell began to come from the frying-pan. The old
+woman turned her watery, bloodshot eyes to Bertie.
+
+"Who's your friend?"
+
+"Them who don't ask no questions don't get told no lies."
+
+"What's his lay?"
+
+"His lay's hitting old women in the eye; so now you know."
+
+The old woman shook her head, and mourned the decadence of the times.
+
+"Oh, them boys! them boys! When I was a young gal there weren't none
+of them boys in them there days! Times is changed."
+
+"And this steak's done! Now then, Ikey, make yourself alive and hand
+the plates."
+
+Without the interposition of a dish the steak was divided in the
+frying-pan, placed in two equal portions on the plates, and Bertie and
+the cook fell to.
+
+Epicures have it that a steak fried is a steak spoiled. Neither of
+those who ate that one would have agreed to the truth of the statement
+then. From the way in which they disposed of it, a finer, juicier, or
+more tender steak was never known. The old woman produced a jug of
+porter to wash it down. Freddy, as the old woman called the thief,
+did far more justice to this than Bertie did. With the aid of the
+dark-coloured liquid the whole pound and a half of meat rapidly
+disappeared, and with it the better part of a loaf as well.
+
+The old woman sat spectator of the feast.
+
+"There was a time when I could eat like that. It's over now a hundred
+years ago, but I mind it as though it were yesterday."
+
+"Go on! you're not a hundred years old!"
+
+"I'm a hundred and twenty-two next Tuesday week."
+
+Bertie stared, holding a mouthful of steak suspended on his fork in
+the air. A hundred and twenty-two! What was his tale of years compared
+to that? Freddy winked at him.
+
+"Yes, I daresay. You were a hundred and ninety-five yesterday, and
+sixty-two this morning. It's my belief you're about five and twenty."
+
+"Five and twenty! I daresay I look it, but I ain't. I'm more than
+that. I always did look a wild young thing."
+
+Freddy roared; anything looking less like five and twenty, or a "wild
+young thing," could scarcely be conceived. The old woman went placidly
+on.
+
+"I remember Jacky Sheppard, and Dicky Turpin, and Tommy King; they
+were all highwaymen in my young days."
+
+"I suppose you were a highwayman's wife?"
+
+"So I was; and they hung him the week after we were married. I went
+and saw him hung, and I've never seen a better hanging since. No, that
+I haven't. Times is changed since then."
+
+"But you ain't changed. I wonder you don't marry again, a wild young
+thing like you."
+
+"I ain't a marrying sort--not now I ain't. I've had ten of them, and
+that's quite enough for me."
+
+"Lor', no! What is ten?"
+
+"Ten's quite enough for one young woman, and when you've been two
+hundred and ninety times in prison a woman don't feel much like
+marrying again. It takes it out of her, it do."
+
+Bertie had ended his meal. The warmth and the food had given the
+finishing touch to his previous fatigue; his head was already nodding
+on his breast. He heard the old woman talking as in a dream. Ten
+husbands! two hundred and ninety times in jail! Were they part of his
+nightmare, the things which he heard her say?
+
+"Hollo, Ikey, you're blinking! Now then, mother, where are you going
+to put my pal? Can't you find a place where he can be alone?"
+
+Had Bertie been sufficiently wide awake he would have seen the speaker
+wink at the old woman.
+
+"There's only the captain's room."
+
+The woman's suggestion seemed to startle Freddy, and to set him
+thinking.
+
+"The captain's room? Where is the captain?"
+
+"How am I to know where he is or where he ain't? He don't tell me none
+of his goings on, none of you don't. He says to me he'd be four or
+five days away. That's all I know about it. Times is changed!"
+
+"Got the key?"
+
+"Of course I've got the key."
+
+"Then hand it over."
+
+The old woman produced a key from a voluminous pocket in her dress.
+
+"Now, Freddy, none of your tricks? He's on the square?"
+
+She pointed the key at Bertie, to show the allusion was to him. The
+young thief took the key away from her.
+
+"He's as square as you! Come along, Ikey! Mother, you stop there till
+I come back. I want to have a little talk to you."
+
+Taking up one of the candlesticks, the lad led the way out of the
+room. Bertie staggered, rather than walked, after him.
+
+The house seemed to be very old-fashioned and very large. There were a
+curious number of staircases, and passages, and turns and twists, and
+ins and outs, and ups and downs. As Bertie followed his companion's
+lead it all seemed to him as though it were part of his dream; as
+though the house was built in the fashion of a maze, and he were
+bidden to find his way about it blindfold.
+
+At last he found himself in a room, the door of which he was vaguely
+conscious his companion had unlocked. Although very far from being
+luxurious, it was better furnished than the one they had left. There
+was a piece of carpet on the floor; there were two or three
+substantial-looking chairs, a horsehair couch, an arm-chair, a table,
+a chest of drawers with a looking-glass on top, and in the corner an
+old-fashioned four-poster bed with the curtains drawn all round. The
+closely-drawn dirty dimity curtains made one wonder if it was occupied
+already, but Freddy showed that it was not by going to it and drawing
+the curtains aside.
+
+"There's a bed for you, my bonny boy! The Queen ain't got a better bed
+than that in Buckingham Palace; and if you have got a marquis for a
+pa, you ain't seen a better one, I know you ain't. That's the
+captain's bed, that is, and if he was to know I'd made you free of it
+he'd have a word to say. But as he's gone to see his grandma, and
+perhaps won't be back for ever so long, we needn't take no count of
+what he says."
+
+Tired as he was, Bertie was not by any means so prepossessed by the
+appearance of the bed as his companion seemed to be. It seemed to him
+just a trifle dirty, and more than a trifle the worse for wear. The
+beds at Mecklemburg House were even better, while the beds at home
+were things of beauty and joys for ever compared to this. But still it
+was a bed, and a bed is a bed; and especially was a bed a bed to him
+just then.
+
+Freddy waited while he undressed. He even watched him get between the
+sheets, and drew the curtains when he was there. Then he went and left
+Bertie to sleep in peace in the captain's room.
+
+And he slept in peace. Just such a dreamless slumber as he had enjoyed
+in the Kingston "doss-house," and it lasted at least as long. This
+young gentleman had over-calculated his strength, and had not supposed
+he would have been so quickly wearied on his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+When he awoke it was some minutes before he collected his thoughts
+sufficiently to understand his whereabouts. The rapidly-occurring
+incidents of the last day or two had bewildered a brain which was
+never very bright at best. Putting out his hand, he parted the
+curtains which hung about him like so many shrouds, and looked out.
+
+The room was filled with daylight; that is to say, as much filled as
+it probably ever was. The only window was a small one, and at such a
+height from the ground that Bertie would have needed to stand upon a
+chair to reach it even.
+
+Had he desired to imitate his escape from his Kingston hosts he would
+have found very much more difficulty in climbing from the window of
+the captain's room. But what interested him more than the peculiar
+position of the window was something which he saw on the chair beside
+his bed.
+
+This something was some bread and cheese, a couple of saveloys, and
+some stout in a jug. On the bread was a little scrap of paper. He took
+it up, and found that on it was written,--
+
+"Sleep it out, old pal!"
+
+This was short, and to the point. It was written on bad paper in worse
+writing; but what it meant was, probably, that Freddy, entering with
+refreshments, had found Bertie wrapt in slumber, and being unwilling
+to disturb him had left him there to sleep it out. Bertie ate and
+drank, and lying back again upon the captain's bed prepared to act
+upon the hint. And he did. He woke once or twice in the course of the
+day, but each time it was only for a minute or two, and each time he
+turned round and went to sleep again.
+
+But at last he woke for good--or ill, as it turned out, for he woke to
+be the victim of a series of adventures which were to nearly cost him
+his life, and which were to show him, better than anything else
+possibly could have done, that he had been like the silly little child
+who plays with fire and burns itself with the element it does not
+understand. He was a young gentleman who required a considerable
+amount of teaching before he would consent to write himself down an
+ass; but he was to get much more than the requisite amount of teaching
+now.
+
+Exactly the same thing happened as at Kingston. He awoke to hear the
+sound of voices in the room; and now, as then, the speakers were
+carrying on a conversation without having the slightest idea that they
+were being overheard.
+
+At first he could not distinguish the words which were being spoken.
+He only knew that there was some one speaking. At first he took it for
+granted that the speakers were the lad who had brought him to the
+house and the old woman he had nicknamed "Mother." But the delusion
+only lasted for a moment; he quickly perceived that the voices were
+voices he had never heard before, and that the speakers were two men.
+He perceived, too, that the day had apparently gone--he had slept it
+all away--and that the room was lighted by a lamp.
+
+So unconscious were the speakers of there being a listener that they
+made no attempt to lower their voices; and one in particular spoke
+with a strain of intense passion in his tones. His were the words
+which were the first which Bertie heard.
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! Fifty thousand pounds! Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+The speaker repeated the words over and over again, bursting into a
+peal of laughter at the end. Another voice replied--a colder and more
+measured one. The new speaker spoke with a strong nasal accent. Bertie
+was not wise enough to know that by his speech he betrayed himself to
+be that new thing in nationalities, a German American.
+
+"Steady, my friend; fifty thousand pounds in jewels are not fifty
+thousand pounds in cash, especially when the jewels are such as
+these."
+
+The other went on unheeding.
+
+"Talk about punting on the Stock Exchange! There are precious few
+punters on the Stock Exchange who pick up fifty thousand pounds and
+walk off with it at a single coup."
+
+"And, also, there are very few punters on the Stock Exchange who would
+run the risk of getting penal servitude for life for doing it."
+
+"Yes, there's that to be considered."
+
+"As you say, there's that to be considered."
+
+"Do you think they'd make it penal servitude for life?"
+
+"I think it extremely probable, with your past history and mine."
+
+"Suppose it came to penal servitude for life, what then?"
+
+"Exactly! That is the question to be asked--'What then?'"
+
+"The Countess of Ferndale's jewels! lying on the table in front of me!
+and in my time I've run the risk of being sent to prison for a
+pocket-handkerchief."
+
+"But in that case you did not run the risk, my friend, of penal
+servitude for life, eh?'
+
+"Rosenheim, what are you driving at? Why do you keep harping upon that
+string? Do you think they'll nab us?"
+
+"They will have a very good try."
+
+"They have tried before and failed."
+
+"They have also tried before and--not failed."
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! The finest set of jewels in England! insured
+for fifty thousand pounds--and that's a lot less than they cost--and
+we've got the insurance policy and the jewels too! Ha! ha! ha! Should
+we present the policy?"
+
+"We will be generous and return them that. Or, better still, we will
+keep the policy in case that anything should happen. Holding it, we
+might make terms with some one. There have such things been done, eh?"
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! and they cost perhaps a hundred thousand in
+their time! Did you ever see such a necklace? Those diamonds remind me
+of fairy tales which I have read--if I were to put the lamp out they'd
+light the room."
+
+"Yes; but we will not put the lamp out, for fear some of the jewels
+should be lost--which would be a pity, eh?"
+
+"Did you ever see anything like those diamonds? See how they are
+flashing in the lamp-light--now look at them!"
+
+Bertie thought that he might as well look too. He peeped through the
+curtains of the bed to see what was going on. He felt a not unnatural
+curiosity, for what he had heard had made him open both his eyes and
+ears. Fifty thousand pounds! The repetition of this sum had a
+startling effect.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XVII
+
+                          TWO MEN AND A BOY
+
+
+There was a lamp on the table. The fire was lighted in the grate; the
+table was drawn close up in front of it. The couch was beside the
+table, and on it a man reclined full length. The head was turned
+towards Bertie, so that he only had a back view of the person lying
+down. He could see that he had brown hair, worn rather long, and that
+he was smoking a cigar, and that was all he could see.
+
+By the table, standing so that his face was turned towards Bertie, was
+another man--evidently the impetuous speaker. He was about the middle
+height, slight, yet sinewy, with coal-black hair cut very short, and a
+dark olive skin, his face being concealed by neither moustache nor
+beard. He was holding something in his hands, something which he eyed
+with ravenous eyes. From his position Bertie was not able to perceive
+what this something was, but he could see that the table was littered
+with other articles, and that a roll of paper and two boxes of a
+peculiar shape lay open on the floor.
+
+The dark man was holding the something in his hands in a variety of
+positions, so that he might get the full effect from different points
+of view.
+
+"Did you ever see such stones?"
+
+"They are not bad, considering. Their value consists in their number,
+my dear friend. Separate stones of better quality can be found."
+
+"How much do you say we shall get for it?"
+
+"That remains to be seen. If you ask me how much it cost I should say,
+probably, altogether, twenty thousand pounds."
+
+Twenty thousand pounds! The dark man was holding in his hand something
+which cost twenty thousand pounds. Curiosity was too much for Bertie's
+discretion. The magnitude of the sum had so startling an effect on his
+bump of inquisitiveness that before he knew it he was trying his best
+to see what surprising thing it was which had cost twenty thousand
+pounds. Half-unconsciously he quitted the security of the bed, and
+standing in his shirt bare-legged on the floor he strained his eyes to
+see.
+
+Just then the dark man moved into such a position that the unexpected
+spectator was yet unable to see what it was he held. It was
+aggravating, but what followed was rather more aggravating still.
+
+"Fancy wearing a thing like that! I wonder how I should look with
+twenty thousand pounds worth of diamonds round my neck."
+
+He put his hand up to his neck, clasping round it what seemed to
+Bertie a line of glittering light. Then he turned, probably with the
+intention of studying the effect in the looking-glass, and, turning,
+he saw Bertie.
+
+For a moment there was silence--silence so complete that you could
+have heard much fainter sounds than the fall of the proverbial pin.
+The man was apparently thunderstruck, as well he might be. He stared
+at the figure in the shirt as though it were that of one risen from
+the dead. As for Bertie, his feet seemed glued to the floor, and his
+tongue to the roof of his mouth. It suddenly dawned upon him that it
+would have perhaps been better if he had stayed in bed.
+
+The man was the first to regain his self-possession. It was to be a
+very long time indeed before Bertie was to be again master of his.
+
+"What the something are you?"
+
+At the sound of his companion's voice, the man on the sofa sprang to
+his feet as though he had been shot. He gave one quick glance; then,
+snatching up a revolver which lay upon the table, he fired at the
+frightened boy.
+
+"Rosenheim!"
+
+At the very moment of pulling the trigger the dark man struck up his
+arm, so that the bullet was buried in the ceiling. But the effect upon
+Bertie was just as though it had penetrated his heart--he fell like a
+log.
+
+"He's only a boy. You've shot him."
+
+"I have not shot him. That I will do in a minute or two."
+
+When Bertie recovered from his swoon the dark man was bending over
+him. His companion was sitting in a chair regarding him with cold,
+staring eyes--a long, thin man, with a slight moustache and beard, and
+a peculiarly cruel cast of countenance.
+
+The dark man was the first to address him.
+
+"So you've come too, have you? Perhaps it's a pity, after all. It'll
+only prolong your misery. Now stand up, put your hands behind your
+back, and look me in the face."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid, feeling very weak and tottering on his feet.
+The dark man was perched on the edge of the table, holding a revolver
+in his hand. His companion, the long, thin man who sat in the chair,
+held a revolver too. Bertie felt that his position was not an
+agreeable one. Of one thing he was conscious, that the table was
+cleared of its contents, and that the roll of paper and boxes which he
+had noticed on the floor had disappeared.
+
+The dark man commenced the cross-examination, handling his revolver in
+a way which was peculiarly unpleasant, as though it were a toy which
+he was anxious to have a little practice with.
+
+"Look me in the face."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid as best he could, though he found it
+difficult to meet the keen black eyes.
+
+"He needn't look me in the face, or I'll put five shots inside of
+him."
+
+This was from the long, thin man. Bertie was careful not to show the
+slightest symptom of a desire to turn that way. The dark man went on.
+
+"Do you know what truth is? If you don't it'll be a pity, because if
+you tell me so much as the millionth part of a lie I'll empty my
+revolver into you where you stand."
+
+As if to emphasize this genial threat the dark man pointed his
+revolver point-blank at his head.
+
+"I'm on that line. I'll empty mine inside him too."
+
+Bertie was conscious that the long, thin man was following his
+companion's lead. A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him
+within three feet of his head. He felt more anxious to tell the truth,
+even though under difficulties, than he had ever been in all his life.
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Bertie Bailey."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I--I don't know!"
+
+Bertie very certainly didn't. If he could only have undreamt his
+dreams about the Land of Golden Dreams how happy had he been.
+
+"Oh, you don't know. Who brought you here?"
+
+"Freddy."
+
+"Freddy? Do you mean Faking Fred?"
+
+"If you please, sir, I--I don't know. The old woman called him
+Freddy."
+
+"Oh, the old woman had a finger in the pie, had she? I'll have a
+finger in her pie before I've done, and Freddy's too. So you've been
+sleeping in my bed?"
+
+"Please, sir, I--I didn't know it was your bed."
+
+"Turn round to me."
+
+As this command came from the long, thin man--he had apparently
+changed his mind about being looked in the face--Bertie turned with
+the celerity with which a teetotum turns.
+
+"Where do you live?"
+
+"At Upton, sir."
+
+ [Illustration: "A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him."]
+
+_A Hero of Romance_.]                           [_Page_ 238.
+
+ "Where's that?"
+
+"In Berkshire."
+
+"You're not a thief?"
+
+"No--o, sir."
+
+In his present society Bertie positively felt ashamed to own it. He
+perhaps felt that these gentlemen might resent it as a slight upon
+their profession.
+
+"Have you run away from home?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Fu--fun, sir."
+
+"A good thing to run away for."
+
+Bertie felt that it was a bad thing just then, especially if this sort
+of thing might be looked upon in the light of fun.
+
+"What's your father?"
+
+"A doctor, sir."
+
+"So you're the son of Dr. Bailey, of Upton, in Berkshire?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"Turn round again!--sharp!"
+
+No one could have turned round sharper than Bertie did then. The dark
+man took up the questioning.
+
+"How long have you been awake?"
+
+"I--I don't know, sir."
+
+"Did you hear what we were talking about?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"What did you hear?"
+
+"I--I don't know."
+
+"That won't do. Out with it! What did you hear?"
+
+The revolver was brought on a level with Bertie's face. With his eyes
+apparently doing their best to investigate the contents of the barrel
+he endeavoured to describe what he had heard.
+
+"I--I heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, and--and about
+fifty thousand pounds."
+
+"Oh! you did, did you? And what did you hear about the Countess of
+Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+"I heard that you had--stolen them."
+
+"Is that so? You seem to be gifted with uncommonly good hearing,
+Master Bailey. What else did you hear? Go on."
+
+"I--I heard that they were insured for fifty thousand pounds, and--and
+that--that you'd stolen the policy."
+
+"Dear me! What a remarkably fine ear this boy must have! Go on, young
+man!"
+
+Bertie was painfully conscious that these compliments upon his hearing
+were not to be taken as they were spoken. He earnestly wished that his
+hearing had not been quite so good, but with that revolver staring him
+in the face he felt that perhaps it was better on the whole he should
+go on. Yet the next confession was made with an effort. He felt that
+his audience would not receive it well.
+
+"I--I--I heard that if--if you were ta--taken you--you would get
+pe--penal servitude for life."
+
+There was an ominous silence. The words had had exactly the effect he
+had intuitively expected. It was the long, thin man who spoke.
+
+"Oh! you heard that if we were caught we should get penal servitude
+for life? And it didn't occur to you that you might help to catch us,
+eh?"
+
+"No-o, sir."
+
+"It wouldn't. Now wouldn't it occur to you that such a thing as a
+reward might perhaps be offered, which it might perhaps be worth your
+while to handle, eh? That such a trifle as five or ten thousand
+pounds, in the shape of a reward, might come in useful, eh?"
+
+Bertie did not answer. He could not have answered for his life. The
+fellow's tone seemed to freeze his blood. The dark man put a question.
+
+"Did you hear any names mentioned?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What name did you hear mentioned?"
+
+"I heard you call this gentleman Rosenheim, sir."
+
+In an instant a hand was round his neck, which grasped him as though
+it were made of steel. There was a sudden twist, and Mr. Rosenheim had
+flung the lad upon his back. The grasp tightened; he began to choke.
+If Mr. Rosenheim had been allowed to work his own sweet will it would
+have been over with him there and then. But the dark man interfered.
+
+"What's the use of killing him?"
+
+The answer was hissed rather than spoken.
+
+"I'll tell you what's the use; it is I who will put him away, not he
+who will put me away, eh?"
+
+"Leave him alone for a minute; I want to speak to you. It's a
+nuisance, but I don't think it's so bad as you think. Anyhow, I don't
+see how we're going to gain anything by killing the boy--at least, not
+in here."
+
+There was a meaning conveyed in the speaker's last few words which Mr.
+Rosenheim seemed to understand. They looked at each other for a
+moment, eye to eye. Then Mr. Rosenheim, standing up, loosed his grasp
+on Bertie's throat, and the lad was free to breathe again.
+
+"Get up; walk to the end of the room, put your hands behind your back,
+shut your eyes, and stand with your face to the wall. I'm going to
+cover you with my revolver, and if you move it'll be for the very last
+time of asking, for I'll shoot you as dead as mutton. Sharp's the
+word!"
+
+Sharp was the word. Bewildered, half-stunned, panic-stricken as he
+was, Bertie had still sense enough to know that he had no alternative
+but to do as he was bid. The dark man meant what he said, and the
+youthful admirer of Dick Turpin knew it. The ever-ready revolver
+covered him as he walked quickly down the room, and took up the
+ignominious position he was ordered to. Hands behind his back, eyes
+shut, and his face against the wall! It was worse than standing in the
+corner at Mecklemburg House Collegiate School, and only little boys
+had been sent into the corner there.
+
+How long he remained standing there he never knew. It seemed to him
+hours. But time goes slowly when we stand with our hands behind, eyes
+shut, face to the wall, and know that a revolver is taking deliberate
+aim at us behind our backs. A minute becomes an hour, and we feel that
+old age will overtake us prematurely if we stand there long. They say
+that when a man is drowning his whole life passes in a moment before
+his eyes. As Bailey stood with his face against the wall he felt
+something of that feeling too, and if ever there was a veritable Land
+of Golden Dreams his home at Upton was that land then. If he could
+only stand again within the shadow of his mother's door, ah, what a
+different young gentleman he would be!
+
+Certainly, Mr. Rosenheim and his friend took their time. What they
+said Bertie could not hear, strain his ears how he might. The sound of
+their subdued whispering added to the terror of the situation. What
+might they not be resolving? For all he knew, they might be both
+examining their revolvers with a view of taking alternate pops at him.
+The idea was torture. As the moments passed and still no sign was made
+his imagination entered into details. There was a movement behind him.
+He fancied they were taking their positions. Silence again. He waited
+for the shooting to begin. He wondered where the first shot would hit
+him. Somewhere, he fancied, about the region of the left knee. That
+would probably bring him to the ground, and the second and third shots
+would hit him where he fell--probably in the side. The fourth and
+fifth shots would miss, but the sixth would carry away his nose, while
+the seventh would finish his career. Promiscuous shooting would ensue,
+the details of which would have no interest for him, but for some
+occult reason he decided that they would not cease firing until they
+had put inside him about a couple of pounds of lead.
+
+In the midst of these agreeable speculations it was a relief to hear
+the dark man's voice.
+
+"Turn round!"
+
+Bertie turned round, with surprising velocity.
+
+"Where are your clothes?"
+
+"I think they're on the bed, sir."
+
+"Put them on! Sharp's the word!"
+
+Sharp always was the word. Bertie had done some quick things in
+dressing before to-day, but never anything quite so quick as that. Mr.
+Rosenheim was sitting in the arm-chair, still fondling his revolver,
+eyeing Bertie with a most uncomfortable pair of eyes. When Bertie
+found that in his haste he was putting on his trousers hind side
+foremost Mr. Rosenheim gave a start. Bertie gave one too, a cold
+shiver went down his back, and the time in which he reversed the
+garment and got inside his breeches was perhaps the best on record.
+
+The dark man meanwhile was brushing his hat, putting on his overcoat,
+and apparently preparing himself for a journey. There was a Gladstone
+bag on the table. Into this he put several articles which he took from
+the chest of drawers. Bertie had completed his own costume for some
+little time before either spoke.
+
+It was Mr. Rosenheim who addressed him first.
+
+"Come here!"
+
+Bertie went with remarkable celerity. "For a doctor's son, my friend,
+you are not too well dressed, eh?"
+
+Bertie hung his head; he was conscious of the defects in his attire.
+The dark man flung him a clothes-brush.
+
+"Brush yourself, and make yourself presentable. There's a jug and
+basin behind that curtain; wash yourself and brush your hair."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid; never had he been so docile.
+
+It was the most uncomfortable toilet he had ever made. When he had
+carefully soaped his face all over, and was about to wash it off
+again, there was a report. A shot whistled through the air and buried
+itself in the wall about a foot above his head. He dropped as though
+it had struck him, and all but repeated his former swoon.
+
+"You can get up, my friend. It is only a little practice I am having."
+
+Bertie got up, but the pleasure of that wash was destroyed for him.
+Mr. Rosenheim's ideas of revolver practice were so peculiar that he
+was in momentary terror of his aiming at an imaginary bull's-eye in
+the centre of his back.
+
+"How long are you going to be? Come here and let me have a look at
+you."
+
+Though only half-dried, the soap-suds still remaining in the corners
+of his eyes, Bertie obeyed the dark man's order and stood in front of
+him. That gentleman still held the too-familiar revolver in his hand.
+It had long been the secret longing of Bertie's soul to possess one of
+his own; henceforward he would hate the sight of the too-agile arm for
+evermore.
+
+"You don't look like a doctor's son. Own up you lied."
+
+"I--I didn't, sir."
+
+"A pretty sort of doctor's son you look! Has your father any money?"
+
+A wild idea entered Bertie's brain. He remembered how Mr. and Mrs.
+Jenkins had risen to the bait.
+
+"Ye--yes, sir; he's very rich. He'd give a thousand pounds to get me
+back again."
+
+But this time the bait failed, and signally.
+
+"Oh, he would, would he? Then he must be about the most remarkable
+fool of a father I ever came across. Don't you try to stuff your lies
+down my throat, my joker, because I'm a liar myself, and know the
+smell. You listen to me. You'd better; because if you don't listen to
+every word, and stick it inside your head, it'll be a case of
+shooting, though I'm hung for you five minutes after. Do you hear?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"My name's Captain Loftus. Do you hear that?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"And I'm your uncle--your Uncle Tom. Do you hear that? I'm your Uncle
+Tom."
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"Don't say 'sir,' say 'Uncle Tom.'"
+
+"Ye--yes, Un--Uncle Tom."
+
+"And don't you stutter and stammer; there's no stuttering and
+stammering about this."
+
+"This" was the revolver which "Uncle Tom" pointed in his playful way
+at his nephew.
+
+"And you've been a bad boy, and you've run away from your poor mother,
+and I'm going to take you back again. You understand?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir--I mean, Uncle Tom."
+
+"Mind you do mean 'Uncle Tom,' and don't let us have any fooling about
+it. Do you hear? Don't let's have any fooling about it."
+
+"No--o, Uncle Tom."
+
+How devoutly he hoped that what his "uncle" said was true, and that he
+was going to be taken back to his mother. But the hope was shattered
+by the words which followed.
+
+"Now just you listen to me. I've got half a dozen more words to say,
+and they're the pick of the lot. I'm going to take you with me. You'll
+be all right so long as you keep your mouth shut; but if you speak a
+word without permission from me, or if you hint anyhow at the pleasant
+little conversation we've had here, I'll shoot you on the spot. You
+see, I'm going to put my revolver into the inside pocket of my coat;
+it will be always there, and always ready for you, and mind you don't
+forget it."
+
+Bertie was not likely to forget it. He watched the captain placing the
+weapon in a convenient inner pocket of his overcoat with an interest
+too deep for words. Mr. Rosenheim added an agreeable little remark of
+his own.
+
+"You understand, my friend? You are to dismiss from your mind any
+little ideas you may have had about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels,
+or your uncle, Captain Tom Loftus, will practise a little revolver
+shooting upon you, eh, my friend?"
+
+And Mr. Rosenheim covered the lad with his own revolver. There was
+such an absolutely diabolical grin upon the gentleman's face that
+Bertie felt as though his blood had congealed in his veins. The
+revolver might go off at any moment, and this time it would be a case
+of hitting. Bertie was persuaded that one more of Mr. Rosenheim's
+little practice shots would be quite enough for him.
+
+The change from Mr. Rosenheim to Captain Loftus was actually a relief.
+
+"Are you ready?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir!"
+
+"_Sir?_"
+
+The "sir" was shouted in a voice of thunder, and the captain's hand
+moved towards the inner pocket of his coat.
+
+"Un--Uncle Tom, I mean."
+
+"And you better mean it too, and say it, or you'll never say another
+word. Put your hat on. Catch hold of that Gladstone."
+
+Bertie put his hat on, and took the bag. The captain turned to Mr.
+Rosenheim.
+
+"Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, my friend; I wish you a pleasant journey, and your nephew
+too."
+
+The captain put his own hat on, took Bertie's hand, led him out of the
+room, and almost before the lad knew it they were standing in the
+street. Bertie thanked his stars that at least Mr. Rosenheim was left
+behind.
+
+
+
+
+                            Chapter XVIII
+
+                            THE BOAT-TRAIN
+
+
+They did not leave the house by the same mysterious door by which
+Freddy had entered, but by one which brought them at once into a busy
+street. Vehicles were passing to and fro, and they had not gone many
+steps before the captain--to give him the title which he had not
+improbably himself affixed to his name--called a hansom. Bertie got
+in. The captain directed the driver where to drive in an undertone,
+seated himself beside his "nephew," and they were off.
+
+During the drive not a word was spoken. Where they were going Bertie
+had not the faintest notion; he felt pretty certain that he was not
+really being taken home. His head was in a whirl; he was in such awe
+of his companion that he scarcely dared to move, far less to use his
+eyes in an endeavour to see where they were going. The cab almost
+immediately turned into a busy thoroughfare. The hubbub of the traffic
+and the confusion of the crowded streets completed the lad's
+bewilderment, making it seem to him as though they were journeying
+through pandemonium. The busy thoroughfare into which the cabman
+turned was, in fact, the Strand--the Strand at what is not the least
+busy hour of the day, when the people are crowding into the theatres.
+The cabman took another turn into comparative quiet, and in another
+minute they were whirling over Waterloo Bridge, along Waterloo Bridge
+Road, into the huge terminus of the South-Western Railway. A porter
+came forward to help them to alight, but the captain, dismissing him,
+took his bag with one hand, and taking Bertie's own hand in the other,
+stepped on to the platform of the station.
+
+He had only taken a few steps when, pulling up, he spoke to Bailey in
+low, quick, significant tones.
+
+"Look here, my lad; I don't want to haul you about as though I'd got
+you in custody, and I don't mean to let you get out of my sight. I'm
+going to loose your hand, and let you walk alone. Carry this bag, and
+stick as close to me as wax, or----"
+
+A significant tap against the pocket which contained the revolver
+served to complete the sentence. Bertie needed no explanation in
+words; the action was as full of meaning as any eloquence of speech
+could possibly have been.
+
+The hansom had put them down at the departure platform of the
+main-line trains. The captain looked at the station clock as they came
+in, and Bertie, following the direction of the other's eye, saw that
+it was a quarter-past nine. The station was full of people; porters
+and passengers were hurrying hither and thither, mountains of baggage
+were passing to and fro.
+
+The captain turned into the booking-office, Bertie sticking close to
+his side. Some wild idea of making a dash for freedom did enter his
+mind, but to be dismissed as soon as it entered. What could he do? He
+was fully persuaded that if he were to make the slightest sign of
+attempting to escape, his companion would shoot him on the spot. But
+even if he did not proceed to quite such extreme lengths, what then?
+To have attempted to take to actual flight, and to have run for it,
+would have been absurd. He would have been caught in an instant. His
+only hope lay in an appeal to those around him. But what sort of
+appeal could he have made? If he had suddenly shouted, "This man has
+stolen the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, worth fifty thousand
+pounds!" no doubt he would have created a sensation. But the revolver!
+Bertie was quite persuaded that before he would have had time to have
+made his assertion good the captain would have put his threat into
+execution, and killed him like a cat, even though, to use that
+gentleman's own words, he had had to hang for it five minutes
+afterwards.
+
+No; it seemed to him that the only course open to him was to obey the
+captain's instructions.
+
+There was a crowd round the ticket-office, at sight of which the
+captain put the lad in front of him, and his hand upon his shoulder,
+holding him tight by means of the free use of an uncomfortable amount
+of pressure. Under these circumstances he could scarcely ask for
+tickets without the lad hearing what it was he asked for--as in fact
+he did.
+
+"Two first for Jersey."
+
+Two first-class tickets for Jersey! The tickets were stamped and paid
+for, and they were out of the crowd again. It was some satisfaction to
+know where it was they were going, but not much. He was too evidently
+not being taken home again. Jersey and Upton were a good many miles
+apart.
+
+The captain went up and down the train with the apparent intention of
+discovering a compartment which they might have for themselves. But if
+that was his intention he sought in vain. The tourist season had
+apparently set in early, and on this particular night the train was
+crowded. They finally found seats in a compartment in which there were
+already two passengers, and into which there quickly came two more. It
+was a smoking carriage; and as the other passengers were already
+smoking, and the captain lit a cigar as soon as he entered, the
+atmosphere soon became nice and fresh for Bertie. Five smoking
+passengers in a first-class compartment do not make things exactly
+pleasant for a non-smoking sixth. The captain took a corner seat;
+Bertie sat on the middle seat next to him, right in the centre of the
+smoke.
+
+They started. All the passengers, with the exception of the captain
+and Bertie, had books or papers. For a time silence reigned. The
+passengers read, the captain thought, the lad lamented. If the train
+had only been speeding towards Slough instead of Jersey! It may be
+mentioned that at this point of the expedition Bertie was not even
+aware where Jersey was, and was not even conscious that to reach it
+from London one had to cross the sea.
+
+As they passed Woking the silence was broken for a moment. A tall,
+thin, severe-looking gentleman, with side whiskers, and a sealskin cap
+tied over his ears, having finished with the _Globe_, handed it to the
+captain.
+
+"Have you seen the _Globe_?"
+
+"Thank you, I haven't."
+
+The captain took it, and began to read. Almost without intending it
+Bertie watched him. For some reason, though he could scarcely have
+told what it was, for the reader gave no outward signs of anything of
+the kind, he was persuaded that the paper contained something which
+the captain found of startling interest. He saw the captain stare with
+peculiar fixedness at one paragraph, never taking his eyes off it for
+at least five minutes. He even thought that the captain's lips were
+twitching, that the captain's face grew pale. As if perceiving the
+inspection and resenting it, he drew the paper closer to him, so that
+it concealed his countenance.
+
+As they were nearing Aldershot and Farnham a little conversation was
+commenced which had a peculiar interest for Bertie, if for no one else
+in the compartment.
+
+In the opposite corner, at the other end of the carriage, was seated a
+stout old gentleman, with a very red face and very white hair. He wore
+a gorgeous smoking-cap, which was stuck at the back of his head, and
+there was something about his appearance and demeanour which impressed
+the beholder with the fact that this was a gentleman of strong
+opinions.
+
+In front of him was a thin young gentleman with a pale face, who
+puffed at a big meerschaum pipe as though he did not exactly like it.
+He was reading a novel with a yellow back, which all the world could
+perceive was _The Adventures of Harry Lorrequer_. The old gentleman
+had been reading the _Evening Standard_ through a pair of gold glasses
+of the most imposing size and pattern.
+
+He had apparently finished with his paper, for he lowered it and
+stared through his glasses at the thin young man in front of him. The
+thin young man did not seem to be made the more comfortable by his
+gaze.
+
+"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+This was said in loud, magisterial tones, which commanded the
+attention of the whole compartment. The young man seemed startled.
+Bertie was startled; he almost thought he saw the _Globe_ tremble in
+the captain's hands.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+This was said in tones rather louder and more magisterial than at
+first.
+
+"No! No! I haven't!"
+
+"Then, sir, I say it's a disgrace to the country."
+
+Whether it was a disgrace to the country that the thin young man had
+not heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels was not quite clear.
+The thin young man seemed to think it was, for he turned pink.
+However, the old gentleman went on,--
+
+"Here's a noble lady, the wife of one of the greatest English peers,
+returning from personal attendance upon her sovereign, bearing with
+her jewels of almost priceless value, and they disappear from
+underneath her nose. I say it's a disgrace to the country, sir!"
+
+The thin young man seemed relieved. It was evidently not his want of
+knowledge which was a disgrace to the country, but the disappearance
+of the lady's jewels. Bertie pricked up his ears; the captain gave no
+sign of having heard.
+
+The young man ventured on a question.
+
+"How's that? Have they been stolen?"
+
+"How's that, sir! Stolen, sir! I should think they have been stolen!"
+
+The words were spoken with almost volcanic force. All the carriage
+began to take an interest in what was being said--excepting always
+"Uncle Tom."
+
+The old gentleman grasped his paper with his right hand, and
+emphasized his words with the first finger of his left.
+
+"At half-past two this afternoon the Countess of Ferndale, who
+has been in attendance at Windsor Castle, started from Windsor
+to London. Windsor, sir, is at a distance of twenty-two miles from
+town--twenty-two miles; no more. The traffic between that place and
+London, sir, is extremely large; and yet, travelling on that short
+strip of railway, in one of Her Majesty's own state coaches----"
+
+"I don't think it was in one of the Queen's own coaches she was
+travelling."
+
+"No; it wasn't."
+
+The first interruption came from the severe-looking gentleman who had
+lent the Captain the _Globe_; the second from a placid-looking
+gentleman with black whiskers, who sat beside him in front of Bertie.
+
+"Well, sir, and what difference does that make?"
+
+"None at all, perhaps, to the main issue," the severe gentleman
+allowed. "It's only a statement of fact."
+
+"Well, sir, supposing it is a statement of fact, which, as at present
+advised, I am not prepared to allow, I suppose I may take it for
+granted that she was travelling in a compartment which was exclusively
+reserved for her own use?"
+
+"That, I believe, was the case."
+
+"Well, sir, travelling on that short strip of railway, in a
+compartment exclusively reserved for her own use, what happens in this
+England of the nineteenth century? It is incredible! monstrous! She
+had with her certain family jewels of almost priceless value. She had
+been wearing them in Her Majesty's own presence. They were in the
+charge of certain officers of her household; and yet, when she comes
+to the end of that journey of two and twenty miles, they were gone,
+sir!--gone! vanished into air!"
+
+"No! If they were stolen, he must have been a jolly clever thief,"
+observed the thin young man.
+
+"A jolly clever thief!" said, or rather roared the stout old
+gentleman. "You speak of the author of such an outrage as a jolly
+clever thief. If I had the miscreant within reach of my hand"--the
+stout old gentleman stretched out his hand, and the thin young man
+shrank out of the way--"I should consider myself justified in striking
+him down, and trampling the life out of his wretched carcass. I should
+consider the doer of such an act deserved well of his country, sir!"
+
+Bertie felt a cold shiver go down his back. He pictured the stout old
+gentleman striking him down, and trampling the life out of his
+wretched carcass. At that moment he almost felt as though he had been
+guilty of the crime; he almost expected the stout old gentleman to
+read his guilt upon his countenance, and conclude the business there
+and then. As for the captain--the least that Bertie expected him to do
+was to open the door and, without waiting for such a small detail
+as the stopping of the train, disappear into the night. What he
+actually did was to return the _Globe_, with a courteous bow, to the
+severe-looking gentleman, carefully cross his knees, and light a
+fresh cigar. Then he listened to what was being said with an air of
+placid interest.
+
+"What was the value of the jewels?" inquired the gentleman with the
+black whiskers.
+
+"Priceless! priceless! How can you value jewels which have been in the
+possession of a noble family for generations? which are family
+heirlooms?"
+
+"I suppose they must be pretty well known, in which case the thieves
+will find considerable difficulty in getting rid of their spoil."
+
+"Getting rid of their spoil! Is it conceivable that such villains are
+to be allowed to get rid of their spoil, to sell it, and fatten on the
+proceeds?"
+
+"Very conceivable, indeed, unless something is done to stop them."
+
+The stout old gentleman was so affected by the idea of the countess's
+jewels being brought into the market in such an ignoble way that words
+failed him, and he gasped for breath.
+
+During all this time Bertie's sensations were indescribable. He felt
+as though he were under the power of some hideous spell. He would have
+given anything to have been able to spring up and denounce the
+miscreant who had wrought this crime. There would have been something
+worthy of a hero in that; but he could not do it, he was spellbound.
+Perhaps the consciousness of the revolver which was in the captain's
+pocket had something to do with his state of mind; but it was not only
+that, he was paralysed by the position itself--by the knowledge that
+his own act had made him the companion of such a rogue.
+
+Just at the moment the captain raised his hand, as if by chance, and
+tapped the inner pocket of his coat. Slight though the action was,
+Bertie saw it, and he shuddered. But there was worse to follow.
+
+The remark was made by the severe-looking gentleman.
+
+"What strikes me is, how was the theft performed? Those in charge of
+the box swear that it was never out of their sight. When they started
+the jewels were in it; when they reached their journey's end they were
+gone. They couldn't have been spirited away."
+
+"The boxes were changed."
+
+Bertie felt that his heart had ceased to beat. The words were spoken
+by "Uncle Tom."
+
+It was the first time he had opened his lips. The eyes of all in the
+carriage were fixed upon him. He was seated, apparently quite at his
+ease, a cigar in his mouth, one hand upon his knee, and, as he spoke,
+with the other he undid the top button of his overcoat.
+
+"How could they be changed? Those in charge state that they never lost
+sight of the particular box in which the jewels were."
+
+The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a wreath
+of smoke.
+
+"I have a theory of my own upon the subject."
+
+"And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you mean to
+tell me such a trick as that could have been played in the light of
+day?"
+
+This was from the stout old gentleman.
+
+"Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was done. I
+have only suggested a theory. Of course you are at liberty to accept
+it or reject it, as you please."
+
+"I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next June, and
+I know perfectly well that no such trick would be played on me."
+
+"You are, probably, a person of peculiar acumen."
+
+But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.
+
+"As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps you
+have a theory of how the robbers might be caught."
+
+"I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that, if it
+were made worth my while, I would engage to find the thieves."
+
+"Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's while
+to find a thief?"
+
+"Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to find
+the thieves?"
+
+"If I knew where they were."
+
+"Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if they
+were found you would give them into custody, but you have to find them
+first. People don't go thief-hunting from motives of pure
+philanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it worth his
+while."
+
+"May I ask if you are an amateur detective?" inquired the
+severe-looking gentleman.
+
+"I shouldn't call myself quite that," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing with
+crime?"
+
+"It has been the study of my life," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"I suppose that it is a very interesting study?"
+
+"Very interesting indeed."
+
+"If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has been
+your own experience that such a study improves the moral nature of a
+man?"
+
+"Quite the reverse," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"You are frank."
+
+"What is life unless you are?" asked "Uncle Tom."
+
+The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to slow.
+
+"I think this is Southampton," said the thin young man.
+
+And it was.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIX
+
+                        TO JERSEY WITH A THIEF
+
+
+The night's boat was the _Ella_. When the train drew to a standstill
+and the passengers got out Bertie supposed that their journey was at
+an end. His ideas as to the whereabouts of Jersey were very vague
+indeed. He was surprised, therefore, when the captain, taking his
+hand, led him along the gangway to the boat. The stars were shining
+brightly overhead, but midnight never is quite as light as noon, and
+in the uncertain light he could neither see nor understand where it
+was that they were going.
+
+The captain led him to the hurricane deck, and then he paused. Then he
+led Bertie to a seat.
+
+"This will be your bed to-night. I don't choose to go into the cabin,
+and I don't choose that you shall go without me."
+
+Bertie sat down and wondered. Dark figures were passing to and fro;
+there were the lights on the shore; he could feel the throbbing of the
+engines; there was the unclouded sky above; he still was in a dream.
+Unfortunately the figure of the captain standing near turned the dream
+into a nightmare.
+
+Most of the passengers went at once into their cabins. No one came
+near them.
+
+"Look up at me."
+
+Bertie looked up. The captain, standing, looked down at him.
+
+"Do you think I didn't see you in the train? Do you think I didn't see
+you wanting to open your mouth and blab before all those fools? It
+would have been capital fun for you, now, wouldn't it?"
+
+Bertie shivered. The captain's ideas of fun were singular. Bertie
+would have almost given his life to have done what the rascal hinted
+at, but he would have done it in his extremity of agony and with no
+idea of fun. It would have taken a burden off his mind which seemed
+almost greater than he could bear; it threatened to drive him mad. But
+to have played the part suggested would have needed a touch of the
+heroic--a courage, a strength which Bertie had not got.
+
+The captain went on.
+
+"I had half a mind to have shot you then. If you had winked your eye I
+think I should have done the trick. I have not quite made up my mind
+what I shall do with you yet. We shall soon be out at sea. Boys easily
+fall overboard at night. I shouldn't be surprised if you fall
+overboard--by accident, you understand."
+
+The captain smiled; but Bertie's heart stood still.
+
+"Now lie down upon that seat, put your head upon that bag, and don't
+you move. I shan't go out of revolver range, you may rest assured."
+
+Bertie lay down upon the seat. The captain began pacing to and fro.
+Every second or two he passed the recumbent boy. Once Bertie could see
+that he was examining the lock of the revolver which he was holding in
+his hand. He shut his eyes, trying to keep the sight away.
+
+What an unsatisfactory difference often exists between theory and
+practice! If there was one point in which he had been quite sure it
+was his courage. To use his own words, he had pluck enough for
+anything. To "funk" a thing, no matter what; to show the white feather
+under any set of conditions which could be possibly conceived--these
+things were to him impossible.
+
+In such literature as he was acquainted with, the boy heroes were
+always heroes with a vengeance. They were gifted beings whose nerve
+was never known to fail. They fought, with a complete unconsciousness
+of there being anything unusual in such a line of conduct, against the
+most amazing odds. They generally conquered; but if they failed their
+nerves were still unshaken, and they would disengage themselves with
+perfect coolness from the most astounding complication of disasters.
+They never hesitated to take life or to risk it; blood was freely
+shed; they thought nothing of receiving several shots in the body and
+a sword-cut at the back of the head.
+
+As for Dick Turpin, and Robin Hood, and Robinson Crusoe, and Jack the
+Giant-Killer--all the world knows that they went through adventures
+which makes the hair stand up on end only to read of, and through them
+all they never winced. Bertie was modestly conscious that these
+gentlemen were perhaps a little above his reach--just a little,
+perhaps; but what the aforementioned boys had done he had thought that
+he himself could do.
+
+Yet here he was, lying upon a seat and shutting his eyes to prevent
+him from seeing a revolver. Why, one of those heroic boys would have
+faced the whole six shots and never trembled!
+
+The steamer started, and so did Bertie. Taken by surprise by the
+sudden movement, he raised himself a little on the seat.
+
+"Keep still!"
+
+The captain's voice came cool and clear. Bertie returned to his former
+position, not pausing to consider what his heroes would have done.
+
+"If you want to move you must first ask my permission; but don't you
+move without it, my young friend."
+
+Bertie offered no remonstrance. The seat was not a comfortable one to
+lie upon. It was one of those which are found in steamers, formed of
+rails, with a space between each rail. Possibly when they reached the
+open sea it would be less comfortable still. But Bertie lay quite
+quiet, and never said a word. It was not exactly what his heroes would
+have done. They would have faced the villain, and dared him to do his
+worst; and when he had done his worst, and sent six shots inside them,
+with a single bound they would have grasped him by the throat, and
+with a laugh of triumph have flung him head foremost into the gurgling
+sea.
+
+But Bertie did not do that.
+
+So long as they remained in the river one or two of the passengers
+still continued to move about the decks. The night was so glorious
+that they probably thought it a pity to confine themselves in the
+stifling cabins. But by degrees, one after the other, they
+disappeared, until finally the decks were left in possession of the
+captain and Bertie, and those whose duty it was to keep watch at
+night.
+
+Although they had passed Hurst Castle and reached the open sea, the
+weather was so calm that hardly any difference was perceptible in the
+motion of the vessel. Bertie still lay on the seat, looking at the
+stars.
+
+He had no inclination to sleep, and even had he had such inclination,
+not improbably the neighbourhood of "Uncle Tom" and his revolver would
+have banished slumber from his eyes.
+
+He was not a sentimental boy. Sentimental boys are oftener found in
+books than life. But even unsentimental boys are accessible to
+sentiment at times. He was not a religious boy. Simple candour compels
+the statement that the average boy is not religious. But that night,
+lying on the deck, looking up at that wondrous canopy of stars,
+conscious of what had brought him there, aware of his danger, ignorant
+of the fate which was in store for him, knowing that for all he could
+tell just ahead of him lay instant death, he would have been more or
+less than boy if his thoughts had not strayed to unwonted themes.
+
+Through God's beautiful world, across His wondrous sea--the companion
+of a thief. Bertie's thoughts travelled homewards. A sudden flood of
+memories swept over him.
+
+All at once the captain paused in front of him.
+
+"Shall I throw you overboard?"
+
+There was a glitter in his eyes. A faint smile played about his lips.
+Bertie was not inclined to smile. His tongue clave to the roof of his
+mouth.
+
+"I have been asking myself the question, Why should I not? I shall
+have to dispose of you in one way or other in the end; why not by
+drowning now? One plunge and all is over."
+
+This sort of conversation made Bertie believe in the possibility of
+one's hair standing straight up on end. He felt persuaded that none of
+his heroes had ever been spoken to like this; nothing made of flesh
+and blood could listen to such observations and remain unmoved,
+especially with the moonlit waters disappearing into the night on
+every side. What crimes would they not conceal?
+
+"It is this way. It is you, or--I. In the railway train you would have
+proclaimed me had you dared. You did not dare; sooner or later,
+perhaps, you will dare more. Why should I wait for your courage to
+return? We are alone; the sea tells no tales. Boys will lean
+overboard: what more natural than that you should fall in? It is
+distressing to lose one's nephew, especially so dear a one; but what
+is life but a great battle-field which is covered with the slain? Sit
+up, my boy, and let us talk together."
+
+Bertie sat up, not because he wished it, but because he could not help
+it. He had lost all control over his own movements. This man seemed to
+him to be some supernatural being against whom it was vain to attempt
+to struggle.
+
+There was no one by to listen to the somewhat curious conversation
+which occurred between these two.
+
+"So you have run away? I think you said you ran away for fun. You have
+evidently a turn for humour. Does this sort of thing enter into your
+ideas of fun--this little trip of ours?"
+
+It emphatically did not. Bertie stammered out a negative.
+
+"No--o!"
+
+"You say your father is rich, you have a good home. Were you not happy
+there?"
+
+"Ye--es!"
+
+"Seriously, then, what did you propose to yourself to do when you ran
+away?"
+
+"I--I don't know."
+
+"Did you propose to yourself a life like mine?"
+
+Bertie shuddered. He shrank away from the man in front of him with an
+air of invincible repugnance.
+
+"Answer me! Look me in the face and answer me. I have a taste for
+learning the opinions of my fellow-men, and you are something original
+in boys. Tell me, what is your candid opinion of myself? What do you
+think of me?"
+
+Bertie looked up as he was bidden. There was in his face something of
+his old bull-dog look. Something of his old courage had come back
+again, and on his countenance was the answer ready written. But the
+captain meant to have the answer in plain words.
+
+"Speak! you're not moonstruck, are you? Tell me what you think of me?"
+
+"You'll kill me if I do."
+
+The words came out heavily, as though he had to rid himself of an
+overpowering weight before he could get them out. There was a
+momentary pause; then the captain laughed.
+
+"I shall kill you anyhow. What difference will it make? Tell me what
+you think of me."
+
+"You are a coward and a thief!"
+
+The words were spoken; and in speaking them perhaps Bertie came nearer
+to what is called a hero than ever in all his life before. But their
+effect upon the captain was not agreeable. Those who play at bowls
+must expect rubbers, and those who insist upon receiving an answer
+which they know can scarcely be agreeable should make the best of it
+when it comes. But the captain did not seem to see it.
+
+Directly he had spoken Bertie saw that he had put his foot in it.
+Instinctively he slipped his hands between the rails of the seat and
+held on tight. Only just in time, for the captain, stooping forward,
+tried to lift him in his arms.
+
+"Leave go, you young brute!"
+
+Bertie did leave go, but only to throw his arms about the captain's
+neck. Instantly the captain stood up straight, holding Bertie in his
+arms, staggering beneath his weight, for the convulsive clutch of the
+lad's arms about his neck encumbered him.
+
+"If you don't take your arms away I'll kill you!"
+
+But Bertie only clutched the tighter.
+
+"Let me go! let me go!" he screamed with the full strength of his
+lungs.
+
+The effect was startling. In the prevailing silence the boy's voice
+was heard far out across the sea. Taken aback by such a show of
+resistance where none had before been offered, the captain promptly
+replaced the lad upon the seat.
+
+"What's the matter with you? It was only a joke."
+
+Bertie unclasped his arms. The expression of his face showed that it
+had been no joke to him. He looked like one who was not even yet quite
+sure that he had escaped from death.
+
+The man at the helm was unable to see the seat on which they sat. The
+forward watch had been on the other side the ship. This man now
+advanced.
+
+"What's the matter there?"
+
+The captain met him with his most placid air.
+
+"Did you hear my nephew's voice? He had no idea he spoke so loud; he
+was forgetting where we were."
+
+The man advanced still closer.
+
+"What's the matter with you, boy?"
+
+Quite unconsciously the captain unbuttoned his overcoat, and his hand
+strayed to the pocket at the top.
+
+"No--nothing," stammered Bertie.
+
+"Nothing! I don't know what you call nothing! I should think you was
+being murdered, hollering out like that. Why don't you go down to the
+cabin and go to sleep?"
+
+The captain drew the man aside.
+
+"My nephew is a little excitable at times," he said, and tapped his
+forehead. "He is best away from the cabin. He is better alone up here
+in the fresh air with me."
+
+The man, a weather-beaten sailor, with an unkempt grey beard, looked
+him straight in the face.
+
+"Do you mean he's cracked?"
+
+"Well, we don't call it by that name. He's excitable--not quite
+himself at times. You had better pay no heed to him; he has one of his
+fits on him to-night--the journey has excited him."
+
+"Poor young feller!"
+
+And the sailor turned to look at the boy. The captain slipped
+something into his hand. The man touched his hat and went away,
+looking at the piece of money as he went. And the man and the boy were
+left alone again.
+
+Bertie, on the seat, clutched the rails as he had done before. The
+captain, standing in front, looked down at him.
+
+"There's more in you than meets the eye; though, considering you
+pretend to have a turn for humour, one would have thought you would
+have been quicker to understand a joke. I say nothing of the noise you
+made, but you were wise not to answer that fellow's impertinent
+question. Your presence of mind saved you from accidental contact with
+the waters, but nothing could have saved you from my six-shooter. You
+can lie down again. You need have no fear of another accident; your
+screeching has made that fellow, and probably his comrades, too
+inquisitive to make it worth one's while to venture that. But when it
+comes to the question of letting your tongue wag too freely, nothing
+can save you from my revolver--mark that. It will be then a case of
+you or I. If you have made up your mind to spoil me, I will spoil you,
+my little friend. I say you can lie down."
+
+Bertie lay down; and again the captain resumed his pacing to and fro,
+keeping watch, as it were, over his young prisoner.
+
+The boy fell asleep. The reaction which followed the short sharp
+struggle beguiled him, and he slept. And oddly enough he slept the
+sleep of peace. And more than once the captain, pausing in his
+solitary vigil, bent over the sleeping boy, and looked down at him.
+
+"The young beggar's actually smiling."
+
+And in fact a smile did flit across the sleeper's face. Perhaps he was
+dreaming of his mother.
+
+"Ran away for fun, did he? Yet the youngster isn't quite a fool. Pity
+it should be a case of he or I, but self-preservation is Nature's
+first law! That was a headline in my copy-books unless I greatly err."
+
+The captain lit a fresh cigar, and continued his patrol. What did he
+think of? A hopeless past and a hopeless future? God forgive him!
+for such as he there is no forgiveness to be had from men. That
+self-preservation, which is Nature's first law, is a law which cuts
+both ways. Honest men must destroy the Captain Loftuses, or they will
+be themselves destroyed.
+
+The morning dawned; the day returned to the world. Still the boy slept
+on. At last the captain woke him. He got up, as if bewildered, and
+rubbed his eyes.
+
+"Well, nephew mine, are you going to sleep for ever? If so, I'm sorry
+that I woke you. Jump up and come with me."
+
+His "uncle" led the way into the cabin. They were preparing breakfast;
+the passengers were falling to. The night had been so tranquil that
+not one had suffered from sea-sickness, and appetite had come with the
+morning. A trained eye, looking at the fleecy clouds which were
+peeping over the horizon, would have prophesied a change, and that
+rough weather was at hand. But the day had dawned in splendour, and so
+far the morning was as tranquil as the night had been. So those
+passengers who were going through to Jersey sat down with light hearts
+to breakfast.
+
+The captain and Bertie joined them. That his "uncle" had no present
+intention of starving him was plain, for he was allowed a hearty meal
+of whatever took his fancy.
+
+And while they were at breakfast the _Ella_ was brought up alongside
+the jetty, St. Peter's Port, Guernsey.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XX
+
+                           EXIT CAPTAIN TOM
+
+
+When they returned to the deck the boat was  preparing to continue her
+journey. The fruit vendors--and with what delicious fruit the Guernsey
+men board the Jersey boats!--were preparing to take their leave, and
+those passengers who had gone to stretch their legs with a saunter on
+the jetty were returning to the steamer.
+
+The rest of the voyage was uneventful. Jersey is not very far away
+from Guernsey, and for a considerable part of the distance the
+passengers were in sight of land. The breeze began to freshen, and as
+they steamed round Jersey towards St. Heliers it began to dawn upon
+not a few that enough of this sort of thing was as good as a feast.
+There is such a very striking difference between steaming over a
+tranquil sea and being tossed and tumbled among boisterous waves. It
+was fortunate they were so near their journey's end. Several of the
+travellers were congratulating themselves that, when they reached dry
+land, they would be able to boast that they had voyaged from
+Southampton to Jersey without experiencing a single qualm. Had the
+journey been prolonged much further, that boast would have been
+cruelly knocked on the head. When they drew up beside the pier at St.
+Heliers, coming events, as it were, had already cast their shadows
+before. They were saved just in the nick of time.
+
+Bertie and the captain were among the first on shore; and, not
+unnaturally, the young gentleman supposed that their journeying was at
+an end. But he was wrong.
+
+"Step out! We have no time to lose! We have to catch another boat,
+which is due to start."
+
+Bertie stepped out. He wondered if the other boat was to take them
+back to England. Did the captain mean to pass the rest of his life in
+voyaging to and fro?
+
+The disappointed flymen, to whom the arrival of the mail-boat is the
+great event of the St. Heliers day, let them pass. The hotel and
+boarding-house touters touted, so far as they were concerned, in vain.
+The captain gave no heed to their solicitations. He evidently knew his
+way about, for he walked quickly down the jetty, turned unhesitatingly
+to the left when he reached the bottom, crossed the harbour, and down
+the jetty again upon the other side. About half-way down was a fussy
+little steamer which was making ready to start.
+
+"Here you are! Jump on board!"
+
+If Bertie did not exactly jump, he at any rate got on board.
+
+What the boat was Bertie knew not, nor whither it was going. Compared
+to the _Ella_, which they had just quitted, it was so small a craft
+that he scarcely thought it could be going back the way the mail had
+come.
+
+As a matter of fact it was not.
+
+Two or three times a week a fussy little steamer passes to and fro
+between Jersey and France. The two French ports at which it touches
+are St. Malo and St. Brieuc. One journey it takes to St. Malo, the
+next to St. Brieuc. On this occasion it was about to voyage to St.
+Brieuc.
+
+St. Brieuc, as some people may not know, is the chief town of the
+department of Cotes-du-Nord, in Brittany--about as unpretending a
+chief town as one could find. That Captain Loftus had some
+preconceived end in view, and had not started on a wild-goose chase,
+not, as might have at first appeared, going hither and thither as his
+fancy swayed him, seemed plain.
+
+A more roundabout route to France he could scarcely have chosen. Had
+he simply desired to reach the Continent, fast steamers which passed
+from Southampton to Havre in little less than half the time which the
+journey had already occupied, were at his disposal. Very many people,
+some of them constant travellers, are ignorant of the fact that a
+little steamer is constantly plying between Jersey and Brittany. It is
+dependent on the tides for its time of departure. Only in the local
+papers are the hours advertised. Captain Loftus must have been pretty
+well posted on the matter to have been aware that on this particular
+day the little steamer, _La Commerce_, would be starting for St.
+Brieuc about the time the mail-boat entered Jersey.
+
+He must have had some particular object in making for that remote
+corner of Breton France. No sooner did the boat enter the little
+harbour than he made a dash for the railway station.
+
+Bertie seemed to have passed into another world. He had not the
+faintest notion where he was. He was not even sure that they had
+reached Jersey. He heard strange tongues sounding in his ears; saw
+strange costumes before his eyes. In his then state of bewilderment he
+would have been quite ready to believe anybody who might have chosen
+to tell him that he had arrived in Timbuctoo.
+
+Some light was thrown upon the subject when they reached the station.
+The captain took some money out of his pocket and held it out to
+Bertie.
+
+"Go and ask for the tickets," he said.
+
+Bertie stared. If he had been told to go and ask the man in the moon
+for a lock of his hair he could not have been more puzzled.
+
+"Do you hear what I say? Go and ask for the tickets."
+
+"Tickets? Where for?"
+
+The captain hesitated a moment, then said:
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+He handed Bertie some silver coins.
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+Bertie stammeringly repeated the words. Could the captain be in
+earnest?
+
+"I want to catch the train; look alive, or----"
+
+The captain touched the pocket where the revolver was.
+
+Bertie doubtfully advanced to the booking office, gazing behind him as
+he went to make quite sure that the captain had meant what he said.
+There was an old lady taking tickets, so he waited his turn.
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+"_Comment?_"
+
+He stared at the booking-clerk, and the booking-clerk stared at him,
+each in complete ignorance of what the other meant.
+
+"Do you mean to say you can't speak French?"
+
+The captain came to the rescue, speaking so gently that his words were
+only audible to Bertie's ears.
+
+"No--o."
+
+"Do you mean to say you don't know enough to be able to ask for two
+first-class tickets for Constantinople?"
+
+"No--o."
+
+"How much French do you know?"
+
+"No--one."
+
+The captain evidently knew a great deal, for he immediately addressed
+the booking-clerk in fluent French--French which that official
+understood, for two tickets were at once forthcoming. But whether they
+were for Constantinople, or for Jericho, or for Kamtchatka, was more
+than the boy could tell. He was in the pleasant position of not being
+able to understand a word that was said; of being without the faintest
+notion where he was, and of not having the least idea where he was
+going to.
+
+It may be mentioned, however, that the captain had not asked for
+tickets for Constantinople--which at St. Brieuc he would have
+experienced some difficulty in getting--but for Brest.
+
+They had not long to wait before the through train from Paris entered
+the station. They got into a first-class carriage, which they had for
+themselves, and in due time they were off.
+
+The state of Bertie's mind was easier imagined than described. He had
+been in a dream since he had started on his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams; and dreams have a tendency to become more and more
+incoherent.
+
+His adventures up to the time of leaving London had been strange
+enough, but he had at least known in what part of the world he was.
+Now he was not possessed of even that rudimentary knowledge. The
+continued travelling towards an unknown destination, the unresting
+onward rush, as though the captain meant, like the brook, to "go on
+for ever"--and this in the case of a boy who had never travelled more
+than twenty miles from home in his life--had in itself been enough to
+confuse him; but the sudden discovery that he was in an unknown
+country, in which they spoke an unknown tongue, put the climax to his
+mental muddle. Had the captain, revolver in hand, then and there
+insisted on his informing him which part of his body as a rule was
+uppermost, he would have been wholly at a loss to state whether it was
+on his head or heels he was accustomed to stand.
+
+Something strange, too, about the railway carriage, about the country
+through which they passed, about the people and the very houses he saw
+through the carriage window made his muddle more.
+
+The names of the roadside stations at which they stopped, which were
+shouted out with stentorian lungs, were such oddities. They came to
+one where the word "Guingamp" was painted in huge letters on a large
+white board. Guingamp! What was the pronunciation of such a word as
+that? And fancy living at a town with such a name! He was not aware
+that, like a conjurer's trick, it was only a question of knowing how
+it was done, and Guingamp would come as glibly to his tongue as Slough
+or Upton.
+
+And then Belle-Isle-en-Terre and Plouigneau--what names! The
+educational system which flourished at Mecklemburg House had tended to
+make French an even stranger tongue than it need have done. He saw the
+letters on the boards, but he could no more pronounce the words which
+they were supposed to form than he could fly.
+
+Throughout the long journey--and it is a long journey from St. Brieuc
+to Brest--not a word had been exchanged. The captain had scarcely
+moved. He had stretched his legs out on the seat, and had taken up the
+easiest position which was attainable under the circumstances; but he
+had not closed his eyes. Bertie wondered if he never slept; if those
+fierce black eyes remained always on the watch.
+
+The captain looked straight in front of him; and, although he seemed
+to pay no heed to what the boy was doing, Bertie was conscious that he
+never moved without the captain knowing it. What a life this man must
+lead, to be ever on the watch; to be ever fearful that the time of the
+avenger had come at last; that the prison gates were about to close on
+him, and, perhaps, this time for ever.
+
+"Uncle Tom" seemed to be as much at home in Brest as he had been
+everywhere. The station was filled with the usual crowd. Porters
+advanced to offer their services to carry the Gladstone bag and place
+it on a cab, outside the cabmen hailed them in the hope of a fare; but
+the captain, paying no heed to any of them, marched quickly on.
+
+Were they at their journey's end? Bertie wondered. Was this
+Constantinople, or had they another stage to go? If not
+Constantinople, and he had a vague idea that Constantinople could not
+be reached quite so quickly as they had come--what place was it?
+
+What struck him chiefly as they passed into the town was the number of
+men in uniform there seemed to be about. Every third person they met
+seemed to wear a uniform. He supposed they were soldiers, though he
+had never seen soldiers dressed like these before; and then what a
+number of them there were! Geography is not a strong point of the
+English education system, and he had never been taught at Mecklemburg
+House that Brest was to France much more than Portsmouth is to
+England, and that its population consists of four classes, soldiers,
+sailors, dockyard labourers--looking at all those, of whatever grade,
+who labour in the dockyard in the light of labourers--and, a long way
+behind the other three, civilians: "civilians" being a generic name
+for that--regarded from a Brest point of view--absolutely
+insignificant class who have no direct connection with war or making
+ready for war.
+
+On their arrival the day was well advanced, and as they went down the
+Rue de Siam they met the men returning from the yards. Bertie had
+never seen such a sight before, not even in the course of his present
+adventures. The Rue de Siam runs down the hill. The dockyards are at
+the foot. From where they stood, as far as the eye could reach,
+advanced a dense mass of dirt-grimed men. They were the Government
+employés, employed by France to make engines and ships of war, and as
+the seemingly never-ending stream went past he actually moved closer
+to the captain with a vague idea that he might--think of it, ye
+heroes!--need _his_ protection; for it seemed to the lad that, taken
+in the mass, he had never seen a more repulsive-looking set of
+gentlemen even in his dreams.
+
+The captain went straight down to the bridge; then he paused, seeming
+to hesitate a moment, then turned to the right, striking into what
+seemed very much like a nest of rookeries. They came to an ancient,
+disreputable-looking inn. This they entered; and as they did so
+Bertie's memory suddenly travelled back to the Kingston inn, into
+which he had been enticed by the Original Badger. The two houses were
+about on a par.
+
+Apparently the establishment was not accustomed to receive guests of
+their distinguished appearance--though Bertie was shabby enough--for
+the aged crone who received them was evidently bent double by her
+sense of the honour which was paid to the house.
+
+She and the captain carried on a voluble conversation, though, for all
+that Bertie understood of what they said, they might as well have held
+their peace. He remained standing in the centre of the brick floor,
+shuffling from foot to foot, feeling and looking as much out of place
+as though he had been suddenly dropped into the middle of China.
+Gabble, gabble went the old crone's tongue, wiggle-waggle went her
+picturesque white cap--the only picturesque thing there was about
+her--up and down went her arms and hands. She was the personification
+of volubility, but unfortunately she might have been dumb for any
+meaning which her words conveyed to Bertie.
+
+Yet, incomprehensible as her speech might be and was, he could not rid
+himself of an impression, derived from her manner to the captain, and
+the captain's manner to her, that they two had met before, and that,
+in fact, they knew each other very well indeed. But neither then nor
+at any other time did he get beyond impression.
+
+Certainly her after-conduct was not of a kind to show that, even if
+she knew the gentleman, she had much faith in his integrity, unless,
+as was possible, the understanding between the two was of a very deep
+and subtle kind indeed.
+
+She showed the new arrivals up a flight of rickety stairs, into a room
+in which there were two beds of a somewhat better sort than might have
+been expected. Some attempt had also been made to fit the room up
+after the French fashion, so that it might serve as sitting-room as
+well as bedroom. There was a table in the centre, and the apartment
+also contained two or three rush-bottomed chairs.
+
+The old crone, having shown them in, said something to the captain and
+disappeared. The man and the boy were left alone. They had not spoken
+to each other since they had left St. Brieuc, and there was not much
+spoken now.
+
+"You can take your hat off and sit down. We shall sleep here to-night."
+
+So at any rate they had reached a temporary resting-place at last;
+their journey was not to be quite unceasing. It was only the night
+before they had left London, but it seemed to Bertie that it was a
+year ago.
+
+He did as he was bid--took his hat off and sat on a chair. The captain
+sat down also, seating himself on one chair and putting his feet upon
+another. Not a word was spoken; they simply sat and waited, perhaps
+twenty minutes.
+
+Bertie wondered what they were waiting for, but the reappearance of
+the crone with a coarse white tablecloth shed light upon the matter.
+They had been waiting while a meal was being prepared.
+
+The prospect revived his spirits. He had not tasted food since they
+had left the _Ella_, and his appetite was always hale and hearty. But
+he was thrown into the deepest agitation by a remark which the crone
+addressed to him. He had not the faintest notion what it was she said;
+but the mere fact of being addressed in a foreign and therefore
+unknown tongue made him feel quite ill.
+
+The captain did not improve the matter.
+
+"Why don't you answer the woman?"
+
+"I don't know what she says."
+
+"Are you acting, or is it real?"
+
+Bertie only wished that he had been acting, and that his ignorance had
+not been real. At Mecklemburg House the idea of learning French had
+seemed to him absurd, an altogether frivolous waste of time. What
+would he not have given then--and still more, what would he not have
+given a little later on--to have made better use of his opportunities
+when he had them? Circumstances alter cases.
+
+The captain looked at him for a moment or two with his fierce black
+eyes; then he said something to the old woman which made her laugh.
+Not a pleasant laugh by any means, and it did not add to Bertie's
+sense of comfort that such a laugh was being laughed at him.
+
+"Sit up to the table!"
+
+The old woman had laid the table, and had then disappeared to fetch
+the food to put before her guests. Bertie sat up. The meal appeared.
+Not by any means a bad one--better, like the room itself, than might
+have been expected.
+
+When they had finished, and the old crone had cleared the things away,
+the captain stood up and lighted a cigar.
+
+"Now, my lad, you'd better tumble into bed. I've a strong belief in
+the virtue of early hours. There's nothing like sleep for boys, even
+for those with a turn for humour."
+
+Bertie had not himself a taste for early hours as a rule--it may be
+even questioned if the captain had--but he was ready enough for bed
+just then, and he had scarcely got between the sheets before he was
+asleep. But what surprised him was to see the captain prepare himself
+for bed as well. Bertie had one bed, the captain the other. The lights
+were put out; and at an unusually early hour silence reigned.
+
+Perhaps the journey had fatigued the man as much as the boy. It is
+beyond question that the captain was asleep almost as soon as Bertie
+was.
+
+But he did not sleep quite so long.
+
+While it was yet dark he got up, and, having lit a candle, looked at
+his watch. Then he dressed very quietly, making not the slightest
+noise. He took his revolver from underneath his pillow, and replaced
+it in the top pocket of his overcoat. He also took from underneath his
+pillow a leathern case. He opened it. It contained a necklace of
+wondrous beauty, formed of diamonds of uncommon brilliancy and size.
+His great black eyes sparkled at the precious stones, and the precious
+stones sparkled back at him.
+
+It was that necklace which had once belonged to the Countess of
+Ferndale, and which, according to Mr. Rosenheim, had cost more than
+twenty thousand pounds. The captain reclosed the leathern case, and
+put it in the same pocket which contained his revolver.
+
+Then, being fully dressed, even to his hat and boots, he crossed the
+room and looked at Bertie. The boy was fast asleep.
+
+"The young beggar's smiling again."
+
+The young beggar was; perhaps he was again dreaming of his mother.
+
+The captain took his Gladstone bag and crept on tiptoe down the
+stairs. Curiously enough the front door was unbarred, so that it was
+not long before he was standing in the street. Then, having lighted,
+not a cigar this time, but a pipe, he started at a pace considerably
+over four miles an hour, straight off through the country lanes, to
+Landerneau. He must have had a complete knowledge of the country to
+have performed that feat, for Landerneau is at a distance of not less
+than fifteen miles from Brest; and in spite of the darkness which
+prevailed, at any rate when he started, he turned aside from the high
+road, and selected those by-paths which only a native of the country
+as a rule knows well.
+
+Landerneau is a junction on the line which runs to Nantes. He caught
+the first train to that great seaport, and that afternoon he boarded,
+at St. Nazaire, a steamer which was bound for the United States of
+America, and by night he was far away on the high seas.
+
+Henceforward he disappears from the pages of this story. He had laid
+his plans well. He had destroyed the trail, and the only witness of
+his crime whom he had any cause to fear he had left penniless in the
+most rabid town in France, where any Englishman who is penniless, and
+unable to speak any language but his own, was not likely to receive
+much consideration from the inhabitants.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XXI
+
+         THE DISADVANTAGES OF NOT BEING ABLE TO SPEAK FRENCH
+
+
+In the meantime Bertie slept, perhaps still continuing to dream of his
+mother. When he woke he thought the captain was still taking his rest.
+He remained for a time motionless in bed. But it began to dawn upon
+him that the room was very quiet, that there was no sound even of
+gentle breathing. If the captain slept, he slept with uncommon
+soundness.
+
+So he sat up to see if the captain really was asleep, and saw that the
+opposite bed was empty. Still the truth did not at once occur to him.
+It was quite possible that the captain had not chosen to wait till his
+companion awoke before he himself got up.
+
+For the better part of an hour Bertie lay and wondered. By degrees he
+could not but perceive that the captain's absence was peculiar.
+Considering the close watch and ward which he had kept upon the lad,
+it was surprising that he should leave him so long to the enjoyment of
+his own society.
+
+An idea occurred to Bertie. Supposing the captain was guarding him
+even in his absence? Then the door would be locked. He got up to see.
+No; he had only to turn the handle, and the door was open. What could
+it mean? Bertie returned to his bed to ponder.
+
+Another half-hour passed, and still no signs of the captain. Bertie
+would have liked to get up, but did not dare. Supposing when the
+captain returned he chose to be indignant because the lad had taken
+upon himself to move without his advice?
+
+There came a tapping at the door. Was it the captain? He would
+scarcely knock at the door to ask if he might be allowed to enter. The
+tapping again.
+
+"Come in," cried Bertie.
+
+Still the tapping continued. Then some one spoke in French. It was the
+old crone's voice.
+
+"M'sieu veut se lever? C'est midi!"
+
+Not in the least understanding what was said, Bertie cried again,
+"Come in!"
+
+The door was opened a few inches, and the old crone looked in. She
+stared at Bertie sitting up in bed, and Bertie stared at her.
+
+"M'sieu, vot' oncle! Il dort?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean," said Bertie.
+
+They were in the agreeable position of not having either of them the
+faintest conception of what the other said. She came further into the
+room and looked about her. Then she saw that the captain's bed was
+empty.
+
+"Vot' oncle! Où est-il donc?"
+
+Bertie stared, as though by dint of staring he could get at what she
+meant. The Mecklemburg House curriculum had included French, but not
+the sort of French which the old lady talked. "Mon père" and "ma
+mère," that was about the extent of Bertie's knowledge of foreign
+tongues; and even those simple words he would not have recognised
+coming from the peculiarly voluble lips of this ancient dame.
+
+While he was still endeavouring to understand, from the expression of
+her face, what it was she said, all at once she began to scold him. Of
+course he had still not the slightest knowledge as to what were the
+actual words she used; but her voice, her gestures, and the expression
+of her countenance needed no interpreter. Never very much to look at,
+she suddenly became as though possessed with an evil spirit, seeming
+to rain down anathemas on his non-understanding head with all the
+virulence of the legendary witch of old.
+
+What was the matter Bertie had not the least conception, but that
+something was the matter was plain enough. Her shrill voice rose to a
+piercing screech. She seemed half choked with the velocity of her
+speech. Her wrinkled face assumed a dozen different hideous shapes.
+She shook her yellow claws as though she would have liked to have
+attacked him then and there.
+
+Suddenly she went to the door and called to some one down below. A man
+in sabots came stamping up the stairs. He was a great hulking fellow
+in a blouse and a great wide-brimmed felt hat. He listened to what the
+woman said, or rather screamed, looking at Bertie all the time from
+under his overhanging brows. Then he took up the lad's clothes which
+lay upon the bed, and very coolly turned out all the pockets. Finding
+nothing in the shape of money to reward his search, he put them down
+again and glowered at Bertie.
+
+Some perception of the truth began to dawn upon the lad. Could the
+captain have gone--absconded, in fact--and forgotten to pay his bill?
+From the proceedings of the man and woman in front of him it would
+seem he had. The man had apparently searched the youngster's pockets
+in quest of money to pay what the captain owed, and searched in vain.
+
+All at once he caught Bertie by the shoulders and lifted him bodily on
+to the floor. Then he pointed to his clothing, saying something at the
+same time. Bertie did not understand what he said, but the meaning of
+his gesture was plain enough.
+
+Bertie was to put on his clothes and dress. So Bertie dressed. All the
+time the woman kept up a series of exclamations. More than once it was
+all that the man could do to prevent her laying hands upon the boy. He
+himself stood looking grimly on, every now and then seeming to grunt
+out a recommendation to the woman to restrain her indignation.
+
+When the boy was dressed he unceremoniously took him by the collar of
+the coat and marched him from the room. The old crone brought up the
+rear, shrieking out reproaches as they went.
+
+In this way they climbed down the rickety stairs, Bertie first--a most
+uncomfortable first; the man next, holding his coat collar, giving him
+little monitory jerks, in the way the policeman had done down
+Piccadilly; the woman last, raining abuse upon the unfortunate
+youngster's head. This was another stage on the journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+Across the room below to the front door. There was a temporary pause.
+The old crone gave the boy two sounding smacks, one on each side of
+the head, given with surprising vigour considering her apparent age.
+Then the man raised his foot, sabot and all, and kicked the young
+gentleman into the street!
+
+Then Bertie felt sure that the captain had forgotten to pay his bill.
+
+He stood for a moment in the narrow street, not unnaturally surprised
+at this peremptory method of bidding a guest farewell. But it would
+have been quite as well if he had stood a little less upon the order
+of his going; for the crone, taking advantage of his momentary pause,
+caught off her slipper and flung it at his head. This, too, was
+delivered with vigour worthy of a younger arm, and as it struck Bertie
+fairly on the cheek he received the full benefit of the lady's
+strength. The other slipper followed, but that Bertie just dodged in
+time. Still, he thought that under the circumstances, perhaps, he had
+better go. So he went.
+
+But not unaccompanied.
+
+A couple of urchins had witnessed his unceremonious exit, and they had
+also seen the slippers aimed. The whole proceeding seemed to strike
+them in a much more humorous light than it did Bertie, and to mark
+their enjoyment of the fun they danced about and shrieked with
+laughter.
+
+As Bertie began to slink away the man said to them something which
+seemed to make them prick up their ears. They followed Bertie,
+pointing with their fingers.
+
+"V'là un Anglais! C'est un larron! au voleur! au voleur!"
+
+What it was they shrieked in their shrill voices Bertie had not the
+least idea, but he knew it was unpleasant to be pointed and shouted
+at, for their words were caught up by other urchins of their class,
+and soon he had a force of ragamuffins shrieking close at his heels.
+
+"V'là un Anglais! un Anglais! C'est un lar--r--ron!"
+
+The stress which they laid upon the _larron_ was ear-splitting.
+
+As he went, his following gathered force. They were a ragged regiment.
+Some hatless, some shoeless, all stockingless; for even those who wore
+sabots showed an inch or two of naked flesh between the ends of their
+breeches and the tops of their wooden shoes.
+
+As Bertie found his way into the better portions of the town the
+procession created a sensation. Shopkeepers came to their doors
+to stare, the loungers in the cafés stood to look. Some of the
+foot-passengers joined the rapidly-swelling crowd.
+
+The boy with his sullen face passed on, his lips compressed, his eyes
+with their dogged look. What the hubbub was about, why they followed
+him, what it was they kept on shouting, he did not understand. He knew
+that the captain had left him, and left him penniless. What he was
+himself to do, or where he was going, he had not the least idea. He
+only knew that the crowd was hunting him on.
+
+There was not one friendly face among those around him--not one who
+could understand. The boys seemed like demons, shrieking, dancing,
+giving him occasional shoves. Separately he would have tackled any one
+of them, for they could not despise him for being English more
+heartily than he despised them for being French. But what could he do
+against that lot?--a host, too, which was being reinforced by men. For
+the cry "Un Anglais!" seemed to be infectious, and citizens of the
+grimier and more popular type began to swell the throng and shriek "Un
+Anglais!" with the boys.
+
+One man, a very dirty and evil-looking gentleman, laying his two hands
+on Bertie's shoulders, started running, and began pushing him on in
+front of him. This added to the sport. The cavalcade broke into a
+trot. The shrieks became more vigorous. Suddenly Bertie, being pushed
+too vigorously from behind, and perhaps a little bewildered by the
+din, lost his footing and fell forward on his face. The man, taken
+unawares, fell down on top of him. The crowd shrieked with laughter.
+
+A functionary interfered, in the shape of a _sergent de ville_. He
+wanted to know what the disturbance was about. Two or three dozen
+people, who knew absolutely nothing at all about it, began explaining
+all at once. They did not render the matter clearer. Nor did the man
+who had pushed Bertie over. He was indignant; not because he had
+pushed Bertie over, but because he had fallen on him afterwards. He
+evidently considered himself outraged because Bertie had not managed
+to enjoy a monopoly of tumbling down.
+
+The policeman, not much enlightened by the explanations which were
+poured upon him, marched Bertie off to the _bureau de police_. They
+manage things differently in France, and the difference is about as
+much marked in a police station as anywhere else. Bertie found himself
+confronted by an official who pelted him with questions he did not
+understand, and who was equally at a loss to understand the
+observations he made in reply. Then he found himself locked up. It is
+probable that while he was held in durance vile an attempt was made to
+discover an interpreter; it would appear from what followed that if
+such an attempt were made, it was made in vain.
+
+The afternoon passed away. Still the boy was left to enjoy his own
+society. He had plenty of leisure to think; to wonder what was going
+to happen to him--what was the next page which was to be unfolded in
+the history of his adventures. He had leisure to learn that he was
+getting hungry. But no one brought him anything to eat.
+
+At last, just as he was beginning to think that he surely was
+forgotten, an official appeared, who, without a word, took him by the
+collar of his coat--he had been taken a good many times by the collar
+of his coat of late--led him straight out of the station-house,
+through some by-streets to the outskirts of the town.
+
+Then, when he had taken him some little distance outside the walls,
+and a long country road stretched away in front, he released the lad's
+collar, and with a very expressive gesture, which even Bertie was not
+at a loss to understand, he bade him take himself away.
+
+And Bertie took himself away, walking smartly off in the direction in
+which the sergeant pointed--away from the town. The policeman watched
+him for some time, standing with his hands in his pockets; and then,
+when a curve in the road took the lad out of sight, he returned within
+the walls.
+
+It was already evening. The uncertain weather which had prevailed
+during the last few days still proved its uncertainty. The day had
+been fine, the evening was clouded. The wind was high, and, blowing
+from the north-west, blew the clouds tumultuously in scurrying masses
+across the sky.
+
+The country was bare, nearly treeless. It was very flat. The scant
+fields of Finistère offered no protection from the weather, and but
+little pleasure to the eye. It was a bleak, almost barren country,
+with but little natural vegetation--harsh, stony, and inhospitable.
+
+Along the wind-swept road he steadily trudged. He knew not whither he
+was going, not even whence he came. He was a stranger in a strange
+land. The captain had asked him whether he spoke French; he supposed,
+therefore, that this land was France. But the captain had confused
+him--bidden him ask for tickets for Constantinople. Even Bertie's
+scanty geographical knowledge told him that Constantinople was not
+France. On the other hand, the same scant store suggested that it
+needed a longer flight than they had taken to bring him into Turkey.
+
+A very slight knowledge of French would have enabled him to solve the
+question. If he had only been able to ask, Where am I? The person
+asked might have taken him to be an English lunatic in a juvenile
+stage of his existence, but would probably have replied. Unfortunately
+this knowledge was wanting. If sometimes a little knowledge is a
+dangerous thing, it is also, and not seldom, very much the other way.
+
+Nearly all that night Bertie went wandering on. The darkness gathered.
+The wind seemed to whistle more loudly when the darkness came, but
+there was no escape from it for him. Seen in the light of clustering
+shadows the country seemed but scantily peopled. He scarcely met a
+soul. A few peasants, a cart or two--these were the only moving things
+he saw. And when the darkness deepened he seemed to be alone in all
+the world.
+
+A house or two he passed, even some villages, in which there were no
+signs of life except an occasional light gleaming through a wayside
+window. He made no attempt to ask for food, or drink, or shelter. How
+could he have asked? As he went further and further from the town he
+began to come among the Breton aborigines; and in Brittany, as in
+Wales, you find whole hamlets in which scarcely one of the inhabitants
+has a comprehensible knowledge of the language of the country which
+claims them as her children. Even French would have been of
+problematic service in the parts into which he had found, or rather
+lost his way, and he was not even aware that there was a place called
+Brittany, and a tongue called Breton. He was a stranger in a strange
+land indeed!
+
+It was a horrible night, that first one he spent wandering among the
+wilds of Finistère. After he had gone on and on and on, and never
+seemed to come to anything, and the winds shrieked louder, and he was
+hungry and thirsty and weary and worn, and there was nothing but
+blackness all around and the terror-stricken clouds whirling above his
+head, somewhere about midnight he thought it was time he should find
+some shelter and rest.
+
+So he clambered over a stone wall which bound the road on either side,
+and on the other side of this stone wall he ventured to lie down. It
+was not comfortable lying; there was no grass, there were thistles,
+nettles, weeds, and stones--plenty of stones. On this bed he tried to
+take some rest, trusting to the wall to shelter him.
+
+In vain. It requires education to become accustomed to a bed of
+stones. All things come by custom, but those who are used to sheets
+find stony soil disagreeable ground. Bertie gave it up. The wind
+seemed to come through the chinks in the wall with even greater
+bitterness than if there had been no wall at all. The stones were
+torture. There was nothing on which he could lay his head. So he got
+up and struck across the field, seeking for a sheltered place in which
+to lie. For another hour or so he wandered on, now sitting down for a
+moment or two, now kneeling, and feeling about with his hand for
+comfortable ground. In an open country, on a dark and windy night, it
+is weary searching for one's bed, especially in a country where stones
+are more plentiful than grass.
+
+In his fruitless wanderings, confused by the darkness and the
+strangeness of the place, Bertie went over the same ground more than
+once. Without knowing it, meaning to go forwards, he went back. When
+he suspected that this was the case, his helplessness came home to him
+more forcibly than it had done before. What was he to do if he could
+not tell the way he had come from the way he was going?
+
+At last he blundered on some trees. He welcomed them as though they
+had been friends. He sat down at the foot of one, and found that the
+ground was coated by what was either moss or grass. Compared to his
+bed of stones it was like a bed of eider-down. It was quite a big
+tree, and he found that he could so lean against it that it would
+serve as a very tolerable barrier against the wind at his back.
+
+At the foot of this tree he sat down, and pillowing his head against
+the trunk he sought for sleep. But sleep was coy, and would not come
+on being wooed. The utter solitude of his position kept him wakeful.
+Robinson Crusoe's desolation was scarcely more complete; his
+helplessness was not so great. It came upon Bertie, as it came upon
+Crusoe in his lonely island, that he was wholly in the hands of God.
+The teachings which he had been taught at his mother's knee, and which
+seemed to go into one ear and out of the other, proved to be the bread
+which is cast upon the waters, returning after many days. He
+remembered with startling vividness how his mother had told him that
+God holds us all in the hollow of His hand: he understood the meaning
+of that saying now.
+
+He was so sleepy, so tired out and out, that from very weariness
+he forgot that he was hungry and athirst. Yet, in some strange
+fantastic way, the thought, despite his weariness, prevented him from
+sleeping--that the winds which whistled through the night were the
+winds of God. The winds of God! And it seemed to him that all things
+were of God, the darkness and the solitude, and the mysterious place.
+Who shall judge him? Who shall say that it was only because he was in
+trouble that he had such thoughts? It is something even if in times of
+trouble we think of God. "God is a very present help in times of
+trouble," has been written on some page of some old book.
+
+Bertie was so curiously impressed by a sense of the presence of the
+Almighty God that he did what he had not done for a very long time--he
+got up, and kneeling at the foot of the friendly tree, he prayed. And
+it is not altogether beyond the range of possibility that, when he
+again sought rest, it was because of his prayer that God sent sleep
+unto his eyes.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XXII
+
+                        THE END OF THE JOURNEY
+
+
+Throughout the day which followed, and throughout the night, and
+throughout the succeeding days and nights, Bertie wandered among the
+wilds of Finistère, and among its lanes and villages. How he lived he
+himself could have scarcely told. The misfortunes which had befallen
+him since he had set out on his journey to the Land of Golden Dreams
+had told upon him. He became ill in body and in mind. He needed rest
+and care, good food and careful nursing. What he got was no food, or
+scarcely any, strange skies to shelter him, a strange land to serve
+him as his bed.
+
+It was fortunate that summer was at hand. Had it been winter he would
+have lain down at night, and in the morning they would have found him
+dead. But he was at least spared excessive cold. The winds were
+not invariably genial. The occasional rain was not at all times
+welcome--to him at least, whatever it might have been to the thirsty
+earth--but there was no frost. If frost had come he would certainly
+have died.
+
+What he ate he scarcely knew. Throughout the whole of his wanderings
+he never received food from any human being. He found his breakfast,
+dinner, tea, and supper in the fields and on the hedges. A patch of
+turnips was a godsend. There was one field in particular in which grew
+both swedes and turnips. It was within a stone's-throw of a village;
+to reach it from the road you had to scramble down a bank. To this he
+returned again and again. He began to look upon it almost as his own.
+
+Once, towards evening, the farmer saw him getting his supper. The
+farmer saw the lad before the lad saw him. He stole upon him unawares,
+bent upon capturing the thief. He had almost achieved his purpose, and
+was within half a dozen yards of the miscreant, when, not looking
+where he was going in his anxiety to keep his eyes upon the pilferer,
+he caught his sabot in a hole, and came down upon his knees. As he
+came he gave vent to a deep Breton execration.
+
+Startled, Bertie looked behind and saw the foe. He was off like the
+wind. When the farmer had regained, if not his temper, at least his
+perpendicular, he saw, fifty yards ahead, a wild-looking, ragged
+figure tearing for his life. The Breton was not built for speed. He
+perceived that he might as well attempt to rival the swallow in its
+flight as outrun the boy. So he contented himself with shaking his
+fists and shouting curses after the robber of his turnip field.
+
+Never washing, never taking his clothes from his back nor his shoes
+from his feet, in appearance Bertie soon presented a figure which
+would have discredited a scarecrow. Scrambling through hedges,
+constant walking over stony ways, beds on dampish soil--these things
+told upon his garments; they soon began to drop away from him in
+shreds. His face went well with his clothing. Very white and drawn,
+very thin and dirty, his ravenous eyes looked out from under a tangled
+shock of hair. One night he had been startled in his sleep, as he
+often was, and he had sprung up, as a wild creature springs, and run
+for his life, not waiting to inquire what it was that had startled
+him, whether it was the snapping of a twig or the movement of a rabbit
+or a bird. In his haste he left his hat behind him, and as he never
+returned to get it, afterwards he went with his head uncovered.
+
+It began to be rumoured about those parts that some strange thing had
+taken up its residence in the surrounding country. The Breton peasants
+and small farmers are ignorant, credulous, superstitious. The
+slightest incident of an unusual character they magnify into a
+mystery.
+
+It was told in the hamlets that some wild creature had made its
+appearance in their neighbourhood. Some said it was a boy, some said
+it was a man, some said it was a woman; some said it was neither one
+thing nor the other, but a monster which had taken human shape.
+
+Bertie lent an air of veracity to the different versions by his own
+proceedings. He was not in his own right mind. Had care been taken,
+and friends been near, all might have been well; as it was, fever
+was taking more and more possession of his brain. He shunned his
+fellow-creatures. At the sight of a little child he would take to his
+heels and run. He saw an enemy in every bush, in every tree; in a man
+or a woman he saw his worst enemy of all.
+
+In consequence the tales gained ground and grew. A lout, returning
+from his labour in the fields, saw on a distant slope in the gathering
+twilight a wild-looking figure, who, at sight of him, turned and ran
+like the wind. The lout ran too. The tale did not lose by being told.
+Bertie was magnified into a giant, his speed into speed of the
+swiftest bird. The lout declared that he uttered mysterious sounds as
+he ran. He became a mysterious personage altogether--and a horrible
+one.
+
+Others saw this thing of evil, for that it was a thing of evil all
+were agreed. The farmer who saw him in his turnip field had a wondrous
+tale to tell.
+
+He had not tripped through his own stupidity and clumsiness. On the
+contrary, it was all owing to the influence of the evil eye. Bertie,
+being a thing of evil, had seen him--as things of evil have doubtless
+the power of doing--although his approach was made from the rear; and,
+seeing him, had glanced at him with his evil eye through the back of
+his head, as things possessing that fatal gift have, we may take it
+for granted, the power of doing. Nay, who shall decide that the evil
+eye is not itself located in the back of the head?
+
+Anyhow, under its influence the farmer tripped. This became clearer to
+his mind the more he thought of it, and, it may be also added, the
+farther off the accident became. The next morning he remembered that
+he had been conscious of a mysterious something in his joints as he
+approached the turnip stealer--a something not to be described, but
+altogether mysterious and horrible. In the afternoon he declared that
+he had not followed the plunderer because he had been rooted to the
+ground, he knew not how nor why--rooted in the manner of his own
+turnips, which he had seen disappearing from underneath his eyes.
+
+That night the tale grew still more horrible. He had a couple of
+glasses of brandy, at two sous a glass, with a select circle of his
+friends, and under the influence of conviviality the farmer made his
+neighbours' hair stand on end. He went to bed with the belief
+impressed firmly on his mind that he had encountered Old Nick in
+person, engaged in the nefarious and characteristic action of stealing
+turnips from his turnip field.
+
+Thus it came about that while Bertie avoided aboriginals, the
+aboriginals were equally careful in avoiding him. One day some one
+heard him speak. That was the climax. The tongue he spoke was neither
+Breton nor French. Delirium was overtaking the lad, and under its
+influence he was beginning to spout all sorts of nonsense in his
+feverish wanderings here and there.
+
+The aboriginal in question had seen him running across the field and
+shouting as he ran. He declared, probably with truth, that never had
+he heard the like before. It was undoubtedly the language which was in
+common use among things of evil. This conclusion was not flattering to
+English-speaking people, but there are occasions on which ignorance is
+not bliss, and it is not folly to be wise. Being a Breton peasant of
+average education, this aboriginal decided that Bertie's English was
+the language in common use among things of evil.
+
+That settled the question. There are possibly Beings--Beings in this
+case should be written with a capital letter--of indifferent, and
+worse than indifferent character, who have at least some elementary
+acquaintance with the Breton tongue. Let so much be granted. But it
+cannot be doubted--at any rate no one did doubt it--that the fact of
+this stranger speaking in a strange tongue made it as plain as a
+pike-staff that he was the sort of character which is better left
+alone.
+
+So, as a rule, they left him alone in the severest manner.
+
+Of course this could not endure for ever. Bertie was approaching the
+Land of Golden Dreams in a sense of which he had not dreamed even in
+his wildest dreams. One cannot subsist on roots alone. Nor can a young
+gentleman, used to cosy beds and well-warmed rooms and regular meals,
+exist for long on such a diet, under ever-changing skies, in an
+inhospitable country, in the open air. Bertie was worn to a shadow. He
+was wasted not only physically, but mentally and morally. He was a
+ghost of what he once had been, enfeebled in mind and body.
+
+If something did not happen soon to change his course of living, he
+would soon bring his journeying to an untimely end, and reach the Land
+of Dreams indeed.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not by any means the sort of thing
+which was required.
+
+One day a great hunt took place in that district. It was first-rate
+sport. They occasionally hunt wolves, and even wild boars in
+Finistère, but this time what was hunted was a boy. And the boy was
+Bertie.
+
+The mayor of St. Thégonnec was a wise man. All mayors are of
+necessity, and from the nature of their office, wise, especially the
+mayors of rural France; and this mayor was the wisest of wise mayors.
+He was a miller by trade, honest as millers go, and as pig-headed a
+rustic as was ever found in Finistère. His name was Baudry--Jean
+Baudry.
+
+It was reported to M. Baudry by his colleague, the mayor of the
+commune of Plouigneau, which lies on the other side of Morlaix, that
+there was a Being--with a capital B--which had come no one knew from
+whence, and which was plundering the fields in a way calculated to
+make the blood of all honest men turn cold--or hot, as might accord
+best with the natural disposition of the blood of the man in question.
+
+The mayor of St. Thégonnec had told this story to the mayor of
+Morlaix; and the mayor of Morlaix, being the mayor of the
+_arrondissement_, had thought it an excellent opportunity to snub the
+mayor of a mere commune, and had snubbed the mayor of St. Thégonnec
+accordingly; who, coming fresh from the snubbing, had encountered his
+colleague in the market-place, and then and there told his wrongs.
+
+The two worthies agreed that, at the first opportunity, they would lay
+violent hands upon this plunderer of the fields of honest men, and
+make him wish that he had left such fields alone.
+
+Such an opportunity, or what looked like such an one, was not long in
+offering itself to M. Baudry.
+
+One afternoon he was engaged in his occupation of grinding flour,
+standing in an atmosphere which would have rendered life disagreeable,
+if not altogether unsupportable, to any one but a miller, when Robert,
+Madame Perchon's eldest born, put his head inside the open door of the
+mill.
+
+"This creature, M. le Maire; this creature!"
+
+Robert Perchon was an undersized youth of some twenty years of age,
+who had escaped military service not only as being the eldest son of a
+widow, but as being in possession of an unrivalled squint, which would
+have excluded him in any case, and which would have rendered it really
+difficult for a drill sergeant to have ascertained to his own
+satisfaction whether, at any given moment, the recruit had his "eyes
+front" or behind.
+
+"Ah, at last! Where is this vagabond? We will settle his business in a
+trice!"
+
+Having shouted instructions to his assistant to keep his eyes upon the
+stones, M. le Maire came forth.
+
+"He is in the buck-wheat field! I was going to the little field by the
+river, when, behold! what should I see in the buck-wheat field, lying
+close to the hedge, and yet among the wheat, what but this creature,
+fast asleep! It is so, I give you my word. At this time of day, when
+all honest people are at work, in the middle of my field there was
+this creature, fast asleep. I knew him at once, although I have not
+seen the wretch before; but I have heard him described, and there is
+indeed something absolutely diabolical in his aspect even as he lies
+among my buck-wheat fast asleep!"
+
+"You did not wake him?"
+
+"Ah, no! Why should I wake him? Who knows what injury the creature
+might have done me when he found himself disturbed?"
+
+"Then we will wake him, I give you my word. We will capture this
+vagabond. We will discover what there is about him diabolical."
+
+The mayor's courage was applauded. There was Robert Perchon, his
+mother--in tears, at the thought of the peril which her son had only
+just escaped--a select assembly of the villagers, and the two gorgeous
+gendarmes from the St. Thégonnec gendarmerie. All these people
+perceived that the mayor was brave.
+
+The assembly started, with the intention of making an example of the
+plunderer of the fields of honest men.
+
+In front was the mayor, not looking particularly dignified, for he was
+white with flour, though void of fear.
+
+In his hand he carried a mighty stick. Behind him came the gendarmes,
+as was befitting. They had forgotten to buckle on their swords, but
+in their case dignity was everything, and it was just possible that
+the stick of the mayor would render more deadly weapons needless.
+Behind--a pretty good distance behind--came the villagers. Some of
+them carried pitchforks, others spades. One gallant lady carried a
+kettle full of boiling water. It did not occur to her, perhaps, that
+the water would have time to cool before they reached their quarry.
+Madame Perchon brought up the rear, and behind her sneaked the
+gallant Robert.
+
+It occurred to the mayor that this was not exactly as it ought to be.
+He suggested to M. Robert that as he alone knew exactly where the
+vagabond lay, it befitted him to lead the van. This, however, M.
+Robert did not see; he preferred to shout out his directions from the
+rear.
+
+They entered the buck-wheat field. No persuasions would induce him to
+enter with the rest. He insisted on remaining outside, guiding them
+from a post of safety. His mother stayed to keep him company.
+
+"By there! a little to the left! Keep straight on! If he has not gone,
+M. le Maire, which is always possible, you can touch him with your
+stick from where you are now standing!"
+
+He had not gone.
+
+The journey was almost done. The end was drawing near. Delirious,
+beside himself, fever-racked, hunger-stricken, not knowing what he was
+doing, the boy had sunk down in Madame Perchon's buck-wheat field to
+sleep. And he had slept--a mockery of sleep! A thousand hideous
+imaginations passed through his fevered mind. M. Robert Perchon, who
+had been contented with a single glance at the sleeping lad, had some
+warranty for his declaration that in his aspect there was something
+diabolical, for his limbs writhed and his countenance was distorted by
+the paroxysms of his fever.
+
+Dreaming some horrible dream, the noise made by the advancing brave
+fell upon his fevered ear. Starting upright at M. Baudry's feet, with
+a shriek which horrified all who heard him, he rushed across the
+field, and flew as if all the powers of evil were treading on his
+heels. And, indeed, in a sense the powers of evil were, for he was
+delirious with fever.
+
+The first impulse of the champions of the fields of honest men was to
+do, with one accord, what the boy had done, to turn and flee--the
+other way. Some, believing Bertie's delirious shriek to be the
+veritable voice of Satan, acted on this first impulse and fled.
+Notable among them were M. Robert and his mother. That gallant pair
+raced each other homewards, shrieking with so much vigour that it
+almost seemed that in that direction they had made up their minds to
+outdo the plunderer of the fields of honest men. But there were braver
+spirits abroad that day. Among them was the mayor. Besides, the public
+eye was upon him, and behind him were the two gendarmes. In France the
+representative of authority never runs--at least, he never runs away.
+
+It is true that when Bertie sprang with such startling suddenness from
+right underneath his feet, and gave utterance to that ear-alarming
+shriek, M. Baudry thought of running. But he only thought; it went no
+further. He would certainly have denied that he had even allowed
+himself to think of such an ignominious contingency a moment
+afterwards.
+
+The creature was running away. That was evident. It would be absurd
+for the champions of those fields to run away from him, when the
+rascal had been sensible enough to run away from them. M. Baudry
+perceived this fact at once.
+
+"After him!" he cried. "I give you my word we shall catch him yet!"
+
+Off went the assembly, helter-skelter, after the delirious boy.
+
+"Forward! forward! We will teach this rogue a lesson! We will teach
+him to rob the fields of honest men! We will learn the stuff that he
+is made of--this vagabond!"
+
+Courage revived. They all shouted, and they all ran.
+
+If the mayor was in the habit of giving his word as lightly as he gave
+it then, it could not have been worth having. It was soon evident that
+they had about as much chance of catching the fugitive as they had of
+catching the clouds which wandered above their heads.
+
+M. Baudry was not built for violent exercise. He had probably not run
+thirty yards in the last thirty years. He was in his sabots, and
+sabots are not good things for running. Fifty paces in Madame
+Perchon's buck-wheat field was quite enough for him. He perceived that
+it is not a proper thing for mayors to run; so he ran no more. Instead
+of running he sat down to think, and to encourage, of course, his
+friends.
+
+The gendarmes kept on. It was evidently their duty to keep on. But
+they were not much fonder of running than the mayor, and a gendarme's
+boots, when it comes to running, are not much more satisfactory,
+regarded as aids to progress, than sabots. Especially are gendarmes
+not built to run across ploughed fields.
+
+In fact the chase was prolonged for almost, if not quite, a hundred
+yards. Then it ceased. Most of the champions of the fields of honest
+men sat down upon the fields they championed; those who didn't gasped
+for breath upon their feet.
+
+The affair was, perhaps, something of a fiasco, but they consoled
+themselves with the reflection that they would catch the vagabond next
+time, when they could run a little better and a little further, and he
+could run a little worse--or a good deal worse, in fact.
+
+But for Bertie the chase was very far from done. He fled, not from
+things of flesh and blood, but from things of air--the wild imaginings
+of fever. On and on and on--over fields and hedges, dykes and
+ditches--on and on and on, until the day waned and the night had come.
+
+And in the night his journey ended. Even delirium would no longer give
+strength unto his limbs. His style of going changed. Instead of
+running, like a maddened animal, straight forward, he went reeling,
+reeling, reeling, staggering from side to side.
+
+Then he staggered down.
+
+He rose no more. It was the end of the journey.
+
+
+
+
+                            Chapter XXIII
+
+                      THE LAND OF GOLDEN DREAMS
+
+
+When he returned to life he was in his mother's arms. There were
+familiar faces round him, and, as out of a mist, familiar voices
+sounded in his ear.
+
+He turned in his bed--for it was on a bed he was lying, and no longer
+on the stony ground--and opened his eyes, waking as from a delicious
+slumber.
+
+Some one bent over him; some one laid a hand softly on his brow; some
+one's burning tears fell on his cheek. There was his mother standing
+by his side.
+
+"My boy! my boy! Thank God for this, my darling boy!"
+
+Then she kissed him; and she wept.
+
+Out of the mist there came another familiar form. It was his father.
+
+"Bertie! at last! Thank God for this, indeed, my son!"
+
+And he, too, stooped and kissed the lad. And the mother rose to her
+feet, and became encircled in her husband's arms; and they two
+rejoiced together over the son who was lost and was found.
+
+He had been ill six weeks. Six weeks delirious with fever; six weeks
+hovering between life and death; six weeks' sorrow; six weeks' pain.
+That was the end of his journey.
+
+And it would have had another ending had it not been for the
+providence of God. He would have journeyed into that strange, unknown
+country, whose name is Death, but that he was found by the roadside,
+where he had fallen, and by a friend. It would be unwise to say that
+that friend was not sent to him direct from God.
+
+Among his father's patients was a certain Mr. Yates. Mr. Yates was a
+county magistrate, a man of position and of wealth. Under God he owed
+his life to Dr. Bailey's skill. It was to him reference has been made
+as having given Bertie half a sovereign once upon a time--half a
+sovereign which, to Bertie's disgust, he had had to divide with his
+brothers and sisters.
+
+Mr. Yates had known the youngster well. He was a bachelor, and had
+allowed the boy to run in and out almost as he pleased. On the eve of
+starting on a tour to Brittany he had heard that the young gentleman
+had disappeared from school, no one knew why, no one knew whither.
+There was a pretty to-do when it was known. It was almost the last
+straw for Mr. Fletcher, that last straw which, according to the
+proverb, breaks the camel's back.
+
+In his bewilderment--in the general bewilderment, indeed--Dr. Bailey
+had not hesitated to lay his son's disappearance at Mr. Fletcher's
+door. He declared that he was alone to blame, that some act of
+remissness, some act of even positive cruelty must have goaded the lad
+into taking such a step.
+
+The boy had left no trace behind. The distracted father advertised for
+him right and left, placed the matter in the hands of the police,
+seeking for him on every side without finding the slightest clue to
+tell him if his son were alive or dead.
+
+Matters were in this state when Mr. Yates had left for Brittany. He
+had been there some days, when, wandering somewhat out of the beaten
+track, he had chartered a carriage at Morlaix to take him up among
+those wind-swept slopes which are grandiloquently termed the Montagnes
+d'Arree, and land him at the little town of Huelgoet. There are one or
+two things which people go to see at Huelgoet, but the place became
+memorable to Mr. Yates for what he saw upon the road.
+
+He was about half-way to his destination when he observed, lying among
+the furze at the roadside, a lad. He might not have noticed him had
+not the boy been emitting cries of so peculiar a kind that they could
+scarcely have failed to catch a traveller's ear. Going to see what was
+the matter, he perceived at once that the lad was delirious with
+fever.
+
+With some difficulty he persuaded the driver of the vehicle to convey
+so dubious a passenger. The same difficulty occurred at the Huelgoet
+hotel before they would let him in. It was only when he had undertaken
+to recoup them for any losses they might sustain, and had got the lad
+comfortably in bed, that he discovered that the waif who had found in
+him such a good Samaritan was none other than Bertie Bailey.
+
+                         *   *   *   *   *
+
+ So soon as they could move him they took him home. And, as he entered
+the old familiar home, he knew in his heart that this place which he
+was entering was in fact the Land of Golden Dreams. He had been in
+search of it afar off, and he had been a native of the country all the
+time. And there are many natives of that country who throw away the
+substance to grasp the shadow, not realizing their folly till the
+thing is done.
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+They never found the "captain" nor "Mr. Rosenheim." In due time Bertie
+told his story, and the doctor thought it so strange an one that he
+felt in duty bound to communicate with the police. A detective came
+and heard all that Bertie had to say. He asked a hundred puzzling
+questions; but, although not always able to answer them to the
+detective's satisfaction, Bertie stuck to his tale. They took him to
+point out the house which had contained the "captain's room," but he
+had been a stranger in the great city, at night, hungry and worn. He
+had gone blindly where he had been taken, not noticing a single
+landmark by the way, and now when they asked him to retrace his steps,
+and lead them where Freddy had led him, he found it impossible to
+discover the house again.
+
+So it came to pass that the police looked at his story with doubtful
+eyes. And for that cause--or some other--nothing has been heard of the
+Countess of Ferndale's jewels unto this day.
+
+
+
+                          *   *   *   *   *
+   Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HERO OF ROMANCE ***
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Hero of Romance
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Harold Copping
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38160]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HERO OF ROMANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Note:<br>
+
+
+1. Page scan source:<br>
+http://books.google.com/books?id=6DAPAAAAQAAJ</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>A HERO OF ROMANCE</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/frontispiece.png" alt="Perhaps you don't know who I am?"><br>
+&quot;Perhaps you don't know who I am?&quot;</p>
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>A HERO OF ROMANCE</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h5>BY</h5>
+
+<h3>RICHARD MARSH</h3>
+
+<h5><i>Author of &quot;The Datchel Diamonds,&quot; &quot;The Crime and the
+Criminal</i>&quot; <i>etc., etc</i>.</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>ILLUSTRATED BY HAROLD COPPING</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>LONDON</h4>
+
+<h3>WARD, LOCK &amp; CO. LIMITED</h3>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+<table cellpadding="10" style="width:90%; margin-left:5%; font-weight:bold">
+<colgroup><col style="width:10%; text-align:right"><col style="width:90%"></colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td>CHAP.</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>I</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">Punishment at Mecklemburg House.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>II</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02"> Tutor Baiting.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>III</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">At Mother Huffham's.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>IV</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">A Little Drive.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>V</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">An Evening at Washington Villa.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>VI</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">Afterwards.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>VII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">The Return of the Wanderer.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>VIII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">Preparing for Flight.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>IX</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">The Start.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>X</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">Another Little Drive.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XI</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">The Original Badger.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">A &quot;Doss&quot; House.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XIII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">In Petersham Park.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XIV</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">In Trouble.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XV</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XVI</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">The Captain's Room.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XVII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">Two Men and a Boy.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XVIII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">The Boat-train.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XIX</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">To Jersey with a Thief.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XX</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">Exit Captain Tom.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XXI</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">The Disadvantages of not Being Able to Speak French.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XXII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">The End of the Journey.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>XXIII</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">The Land of Golden Dreams.</a></td>
+</tr></table>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter I</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">PUNISHMENT AT MECKLEMBURG HOUSE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">It was about as miserable an afternoon as one could wish to
+see. May is the poet's month, but there was nothing of poetry
+about it then. True, it was early in the month, but February
+never boasted weather of more unmitigated misery. At half-past
+two it was so dark in the schoolroom of Mecklemburg House that
+one could with difficulty see to read. Outside a cold drizzling
+rain was falling, a shrieking east wind was rattling the
+windows in their frames, and a sullen haze was hiding the
+leaden sky. As unsatisfactory a specimen of the English spring
+as one could very well desire.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To make things better, it was half-holiday. Not that it much
+mattered to the young gentleman who was seated in the
+schoolroom; it was no half-holiday to him. A rather tall lad,
+some fourteen years of age, broad and strongly built. This was
+Bertie Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Master Bertie Bailey was kept in; and the outrage this was to
+his feelings was altogether too deep for words. To keep him
+in!--no wonder the heavens frowned at such a crime!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Master Bertie Bailey was seated at a desk very much the worse
+for wear; a long desk, divided into separate compartments,
+which were intended to accommodate about a dozen boys. He had
+his arms upon the desk, his face rested on his hands, and he
+was staring into vacancy with an air of tragic gloom.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the raised desk which stood in front of him before the
+window was seated Mr. Till. Mr. Till's general bearing and
+demeanour was not much more jovial than Master Bertie Bailey's;
+he was the tyrant usher who had kept the youthful victim in. It
+was with a certain grim pleasure that Bertie realized that Mr.
+Till's enjoyment of the keeping-in was perhaps not much more
+than his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Till had a newspaper in his hand, and had apparently read
+it through, advertisements and all. He looked over the top of
+it at Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you think you'd better get on with those lines?&quot; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had a hundred lines of <i>Paradise Lost</i> to copy out. He
+paid no attention to the inquiry; he did not even give a sign
+that he was aware he had been spoken to, but continued to sit
+with his eyes fixed on nothing, with the same air of mysterious
+gloom.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How many have you done?&quot; Mr. Till came down to see. There was
+a torn copy of Milton's poems lying unopened beside Bertie on
+the desk; in front of him a slate which was quite clean, and no
+visible signs of a slate pencil. Mr. Till took up the slate and
+carefully examined it for anything in the shape of lines.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you haven't begun?--why haven't you begun?&quot; No answer. &quot;Do
+you hear me? why haven't you begun?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without troubling himself to alter in any way his picturesque
+posture, Bertie made reply,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't got a slate pencil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You haven't got a slate pencil? Do you mean to tell me you've
+sat there for a whole hour without asking for a slate pencil?
+I'll soon get you one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Till went to his desk and produced a piece about as long as
+his little finger, placing it in front of Bertie. Bertie eyed
+it from a corner of his eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It isn't long enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't tell me; take your arms off the desk and begin those
+lines at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie very leisurely took his arms off the desk, and
+delicately lifted the piece of slate pencil.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wants sharpening,&quot; he said. He began to look for his knife,
+standing up to facilitate the search. He hunted in all his
+pockets, turning out the contents of each upon the desk;
+finally, from the labyrinthine depths of some mysterious
+depository in the lining of his waistcoat, he produced the
+ghost of an ancient pocket-knife. As though they were fragile
+treasures of the most priceless kind, he carefully replaced the
+contents of his pockets. Then, at his ease, he commenced to
+give an artistic point to his two-inch piece of slate pencil.
+Mr. Till, who had taken up a position in front of the window
+with his hands under his coat tails, watched the proceedings
+with anything but a gratified countenance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That will do,&quot; he grimly remarked, when Bertie had
+considerably reduced the original size of his piece of pencil
+by attempting to produce a point of needlelike fineness. Bertie
+wiped his knife upon his coat-sleeve, removed the pencil dust
+with his pocket-handkerchief, and commenced to write. Before he
+had got half-way through the first line a catastrophe occurred.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've broken the point,&quot; he observed, looking up at Mr. Till
+with innocence in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what it is,&quot; said Mr. Till, &quot;if you don't let me
+have those lines in less than no time I'll double them. Do you
+think I'm going to stop here all the afternoon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't stop,&quot; suggested Bertie, looking at his broken
+pencil.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I daresay!&quot; snorted Mr. Till. The last time Bertie had been
+left alone in the schoolroom on the occasion of his being kept
+in, he had perpetrated atrocities which had made Mr. Fletcher's
+hair stand up on end. Mr. Fletcher was the head-master. Orders
+had been given that whenever Bertie was punished, somebody was
+to stay in with him. &quot;Now, none of your nonsense; you go on
+with those lines.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie bent his head with a studious air. A hideous scratching
+noise arose from the slate. Mr. Till clapped his hands to his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stop that noise!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you please, sir, I think this pencil scratches,&quot; Bertie
+said. Considering that he was holding the pencil
+perpendicularly, the circumstance was not surprising.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Take my advice, Bailey, and do those lines.&quot; Advancing with an
+inflamed countenance, Mr. Till stood over the offending pupil.
+Resuming his studious posture Bertie recommenced to write. He
+wrote two lines, not too quickly, nor by any means too well,
+but still he wrote them. In the middle of the third line
+another catastrophe happened.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Please, sir, I've broken the pencil right in two.&quot; It was
+quite unnecessary for him to say so, the fact was self-evident,
+though with so small a piece it had required no slight exertion
+of strength and some dexterous manipulation to accomplish the
+feat. The answer was a box on the ears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did you do that for?&quot; asked Bertie, rising from his seat,
+and rubbing the injured portion with his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Now it was distinctly understood that Mecklemburg House
+Collegiate School was conducted on the principle of no corporal
+punishment. It was a prominent line in the prospectus. &quot;<i>Under
+no circumstances is corporal punishment administered</i>.&quot; As a
+rule the principle was consistently carried out to its
+legitimate conclusion, not with the completest satisfaction to
+every one concerned. Yet Mr. Fletcher, one of the most
+longsuffering of men, and by no means the strictest
+disciplinarian conceivable, had been more than once roused into
+administering short and sharp justice upon refractory youth.
+But what was excusable in Mr. Fletcher was not to be dreamed of
+in the philosophy of anybody else. For an assistant-master to
+strike a pupil was a crime; and Mr. Till knew it, and Master
+Bertie Bailey knew it too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did you do that for?&quot; repeated Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Till was crimson. He was not a hasty tempered man, but
+to-day Master Bertie Bailey had been a burden greater than he
+could bear. Yet he had very literally made a false stroke, and
+Bertie was just the young gentleman to make the most of it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I were to tell Mr. Fletcher, he'd turn you off,&quot; said
+Bertie. &quot;He turned Mr. Knox off for hitting Harry Goddard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Harry Goddard's only relation was a maiden aunt, and this
+maiden aunt had peculiar opinions. In her opinion for anybody
+to lay a punitory hand upon her nephew was to commit an act
+tantamount to sacrilege. Harry had had a little difference with
+Emmett minor, and had borne away the blushing honours of a
+bloody nose and a black eye with considerable <i>sang-froid</i>; but
+when Mr. Knox resented his filling his best hat with half-melted
+snow by presenting him with two or three smart taps upon a
+particular portion of his frame, Harry wrote home to his aunt
+to complain of the indignity he had endured. The result was
+that the ancient spinster at once removed the outraged youth
+from the sanguinary precincts of Mecklemburg House, and that
+Mr. Fletcher dismissed the offending usher.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As Mr. Till stood eyeing his refractory pupil, all this came
+forcibly to his mind. He knew something more than Bertie did;
+he knew that when Mr. Fletcher, smarting at the loss of a
+remunerative pupil, had made short work of his unfortunate
+assistant, he had also taken advantage of the occasion to call
+Mr. Till into his magisterial presence, and to then and there
+inform him, that should he at any time lay his hand upon a
+pupil, under any provocation of any kind whatever, the result
+would be that Mr. Knox's case would be taken as a precedent,
+and he would be instantaneously dismissed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And now he had struck Bertie, and here was Bertie threatening
+to inform his employer of what he had done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't let me off these lines,&quot; said Bertie, pursuing
+his advantage, &quot;I'll tell Mr. Fletcher as soon as he comes
+home, you see if I don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was not a scholastic
+establishment of any particular eminence; indeed, whatever
+eminence it possessed was of an unsavoury kind. Nor was the
+position of its assistant-master at all an enviable one. There
+was the senior assistant, Mr. Till, and there was the junior,
+Mr. Shane. Mr. Till received £30 a year, and Mr. Shane, a meek,
+melancholy youth of about seventeen, received sixteen. Nor
+could the duties of either of these gentlemen be considered
+light. But if the pay was small and the work large, the
+intellectual qualifications required were by no means of an
+unreasonable kind. Establishments of the Mecklemburg House type
+are fading fast away. English private schools are improving
+every day. Mr. Till, conscious of his deficiencies, was only
+too well aware that if he lost his present situation, another
+would be hard to find. So, in the face of Bertie's threat, he
+temporized.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't mean to hit you! You shouldn't exasperate me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked him up and down. If ever there was a young
+gentleman who needed the guidance of a strong hand, Bertie was
+he. He was not a naturally bad boy,--few boys are,--but he
+hated work, and he scorned authority. All means were
+justifiable which enabled him to shirk the one and defy the
+other. He was just one of those boys who might become bad if he
+was not brought to realize the difference between good and
+evil, right and wrong. And it would need sharp discipline to
+bring him to such knowledge.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had a supreme contempt for Mr. Till. All the boys had. The
+only person they despised more was Mr. Shane. It was the
+natural result of the system pursued at Mecklemburg House that
+the masters were looked upon by their pupils as quite unworthy
+their serious attention.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had had about a dozen impositions inflicted on him even
+within the last days. He had not done one of them. He never did
+do them. None of the boys ever did do impositions set them by
+anybody but Mr. Fletcher. They did not by any means make a
+point of doing his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will do me fifty lines,&quot; Mr. Till would say to half a
+dozen boys half a dozen times over in the course of a single
+morning. He spoke to the wind; no one ever did them, no one
+would have been so much surprised as Mr. Till if they had been
+done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the present occasion Mr. Fletcher had gone to town on
+business, and Mr. Till had been left in supreme authority.
+Bailey had signalised the occasion by behaving in a manner so
+outrageous that, if any semblance of authority was to be kept
+at all, it was altogether impossible to let him go scot free.
+As it was a half-holiday, Mr. Till had announced his
+unalterable resolve that Bertie should copy out a hundred lines
+of <i>Paradise Lost</i>, and that he should not leave the schoolroom
+till he had written them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The result so far had not been satisfactory. He had been in the
+schoolroom considerably over an hour; he had written not quite
+three lines, and here he was telling Mr. Till that if he did
+not let him off entirely he would turn the tables on his
+master, and make matters unpleasant for him. It looked as
+though Bertie would win the game.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Having taken the tutor's mental measure, he thrust his hands
+into his trousers pockets, and coolly seated himself upon the
+desk. Then he made the following observation,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what it is, old Till, I don't care a snap for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Till simply glared. He realized, not for the first time,
+that the pupil was too much for the master. Bertie continued,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My father always pays regularly in advance. If I wrote home
+and told him that you'd hit me, for nothing&quot;--Bertie paused and
+fixed his stony gaze on Mr. Till--&quot;he'd take me home at once,
+and then what would Fletcher say?&quot; Bertie paused again, and
+pointed his thumb over his left shoulder. &quot;He'd say, 'Walk
+it'!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was one way of putting it. Though Mr. Bailey was by no
+means such a foolish person as his son suggested. He was very
+much unlike Harry Goddard's maiden aunt. Had Bertie written
+home any such letter of complaint--which, by the way, he was
+far too wise to have dreamed of doing--the consequences would
+in all probability have been the worse for him. The father knew
+his son too well to be caught with chaff. Unfortunately, Mr.
+Till did not know this; he had Mr. Knox's fate before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'd better let me off these lines,&quot; pursued the inexorable
+Bertie; &quot;you'd better, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're an impudent young----&quot; But Bertie interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now don't call me names, or I'll tell Fletcher. He only said
+the other day that all his pupils were to be treated like young
+gentlemen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Young gentlemen!&quot; snorted Mr. Till with scorn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, young gentlemen. And don't you say we're not young
+gentlemen, because Mecklemburg House Collegiate School is an
+establishment for young gentlemen.&quot; And Bertie grinned. &quot;You'd
+better let me off these lines, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know I never hurt you; you shouldn't exasperate me; you're
+the most exasperating boy I ever knew; there's absolutely no
+bearing with your insolence! You'd try the patience of a
+saint.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised if I was deaf for a week.&quot; He rubbed
+the injured part reflectively. &quot;I've heard Fletcher say it's
+dangerous to hit a fellow on the ear. You'd better let me off
+those lines, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Till, fidgeting about the room, suddenly burst into
+eloquence. &quot;I wonder if it's any use appealing to your better
+nature? They say boys have a better nature, though I never
+remember to have seen much of it. What pleasure do you find in
+making my life unbearable? What have I ever done to you that
+you should try to drive me mad? Are you naturally cruel? My
+sole aim is for your future welfare! Your sole aim is for my
+ruin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie continued to rub his ear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bailey, if I let you off these lines will you promise to try
+to give me less cause to punish you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can't help letting me off them anyhow,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can't I? I suppose, young gentleman, you think you're getting
+the best of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know I am,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you know you are! Then let me do my best to relieve you of
+that delusion. Shall I tell you what you are doing? You're
+doing your best to sow the seeds of a shameful manhood and a
+wasted life; if you don't take care you'll reap the harvest
+by-and-by! It isn't only that you're refusing to avail yourself
+of opportunities of education, you're doing yourself much greater
+harm than that. You think you're getting the best of me; but
+shall I tell you what's getting the best of you?--a mean,
+cruel, cowardly spirit, which will be to you a sterner master
+than ever I have been. You think yourself brave because you
+jeer and mock at me, and flout all my commands! Why, my boy,
+were I better circumstanced, and free to act upon my own
+discretion, you would tremble in your shoes! The very fact of
+your permitting yourself to threaten me, on account of
+punishment which you know was perfectly well deserved, shows
+what sort of boy you are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie's only comment was, &quot;You had better let me off those
+lines.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will let you off the lines!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie sprang to his feet, and began to put slate and book away
+with abundance of clatter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stay one moment--leave those things alone! It is not the
+punishment which degrades a man, Bailey; it is the thing of
+which he has been guilty. I cannot degrade you; it is yourself
+you are degrading. Take my advice, turn over a new leaf, learn
+not to take advantage of a man whose only offence is that he
+does his best to do you good; don't think yourself brave
+because you venture to attack where defence is impossible; and,
+above all, don't pride yourself on taking your pigs to a bad
+market. You are so foolish as to think yourself clever because
+you throw away all your best chances, and get absolutely worse
+than nothing in return. Bailey, get your Bible, and look for a
+verse which runs something like this, 'Cast your bread upon the
+waters, and you shall find it after many days.' Now you can
+go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Bertie went; and, being in the safe neighbourhood of the
+door, he put his fingers to his nose; by which Mr. Till knew,
+not for the first time, that he had spoken in vain.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter II</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">TUTOR BAITING</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">There were twenty-seven boys at Mecklemburg House; and even
+this small number bade fair to decrease. Last term there had
+been thirty-three; the term before there had been forty. Within
+quite recent years considerably over a hundred boys had
+occupied the draughty dormitories of the great old red-brick
+house.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the glory was departing. It is odd how little our fathers
+and our grandfathers in general knew or cared about the science
+of education. Boys were pitchforked into schools which had
+absolutely nothing to recommend them except a flourishing
+prospectus; schools in which nothing was taught, in which the
+physique of the lads was neglected, and in which their moral
+nature was treated as a thing which had no existence. A large
+number of &quot;schoolmasters&quot; had no more idea of true education
+than they had of flying. They were speculators pure and simple,
+and they treated their boys as goods out of which they were to
+screw as much money as they possibly could, and in the shortest
+possible space of time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was a case in point. It had
+been a school ever since the first of the Georges; and it is,
+perhaps, not too much to say, that out of the large number of
+boys who had been educated beneath its roof, not one of them
+had received a wholesome education. Yet it had always been a
+paying property. More than one of its principals had retired
+with a comfortable competency. Certainly the number of its
+pupils had never stood at such a low ebb as at the time of
+which we tell. Why the number should be so uncomfortably low
+was a mystery to its present principal, Beauclerk Fletcher. The
+place had belonged to his father, and his father had always
+found it bring something more than daily bread. But even
+daily bread was beginning to fail with Beauclerk Fletcher.
+Twenty-seven pupils at such a place as Mecklemburg House! and
+the majority of them upon &quot;reduced terms&quot;! Mr. Fletcher, never
+the most enterprising of men, was beginning to be overwhelmed
+beneath an avalanche of debt, and to feel that the fight was
+beyond his strength.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A great, old, rambling red-brick house, about equi-distant from
+Cobham, Byfleet, Weybridge--all towns in Surrey--lying in about
+the middle of the irregular square which those four towns form,
+the house carried the story of its decaying glories upon its
+countenance. Those Georgian houses were solid structures, and
+the mere fabric was in about as good a condition as it had ever
+been! but in the exterior of the building the change was sadly
+for the worse. Many of the rooms were unoccupied, panes were
+broken in the windows, curtains were wanting, the windows
+looked as though they were seldom or never cleaned. The whole
+place looked as though it were neglected, which indeed it was.
+Slates were off the roof, waste water pipes hung loose and
+rattled in every passing breeze. As to the paved courtyard in
+front, grass and weeds and moss almost hid the original stones.
+Mr. Fletcher was only too conscious of the story all this told;
+but to put things shipshape and neat, and to keep them so,
+required far more money than he had to spend; so he only
+groaned at each new evidence of ruin and decay.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The internal arrangements, the domestic economy, the whole
+system of education, everything in connection with Mecklemburg
+House was in the same state of decrepitude and age--worn-out
+traditions rather than living things. And Mr. Fletcher was very
+far from being the man to breathe life into the dead bones and
+bid them live. The struggle was beyond his strength.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There is no creature in God's world sharper than the average
+boy, no one quicker to understand the strength of the hand
+which holds him. The youngest pupil at Mecklemburg House was
+perfectly aware that the school was a &quot;duffing&quot; school, that
+Mr. Fletcher was a &quot;duffing&quot; principal, and that everything
+about the place was &quot;duffing&quot; altogether. Only let a boy have
+this opinion about his school, and, so far as any benefit is
+concerned which he is likely to derive from his sojourn there,
+he might almost as profitably be transported to the Cannibal
+Islands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the half-holiday on which our story opens, the pupils of
+Mecklemburg House were disporting themselves in what was called
+the playroom. Formerly, in its prosperous days, the room had
+been used as a second schoolroom, the one at present used for
+that purpose being not nearly large enough to contain the
+pupils. But those days were gone; at present, so far from being
+overcrowded, the room looked empty, and could have with ease
+accommodated twice the whole number of pupils which the school
+contained. So what was once the schoolroom was called the
+playroom instead.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stupid nonsense! keeping a fellow in because it rains!&quot; said
+Charles Griffin, looking through the dirty window at the grimy
+world without.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It doesn't rain,&quot; declared Dick Ellis. &quot;Call this rain! I say,
+Mr. Shane, can't we go down to the village? I want to get
+something for this cough of mine; it's frightful.&quot; And with
+some difficulty Dick managed to produce a sepulchral cough from
+somewhere about the region of his boots.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Fletcher says you are not to go out while it rains,&quot;
+answered Mr. Shane in his mildest possible manner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Fletcher!&quot; grunted Dick. At Mecklemburg House the grey
+mare was the better horse. If Mr. Fletcher was not an ideal
+head-master, Mrs. Fletcher was emphatically head-mistress.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That half-holiday was a pleasant one for Mr. Shane. It was a
+rule that the boys were never to be left alone. If they were
+out a master was to go with them, if they were in a master was
+to supervise. So, as Mr. Till was engaged with the refractory
+Bertie, Mr. Shane was in charge of the play-room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In charge, literally, and in terror, too. For it may be
+maintained without the slightest exaggeration, that he was
+much more afraid of the boys than the boys of him. On what
+principle of selection Mr. Fletcher chose his assistant-masters
+it is difficult to say; but whatever else Mr. Shane was, a
+disciplinarian he certainly was not. He was the mildest-mannered
+young man conceivable, awkward, shy, slight, thin, not
+bad-looking, with a faint, watery smile, which at times gave
+quite a ghastly appearance to his countenance, and a
+deprecatory manner which seemed to say that you had only to let
+him alone to earn his eternal gratitude. But the boys never did
+let him alone, never. By day and night, awake and sleeping,
+they did their best to make his life a continual misery.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If we can't go out,&quot; suggests Griffin, &quot;I vote we have a lark
+with Shane.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane smiled, by no means jovially.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You mustn't make a noise,&quot; he murmured, in that soft, almost
+effeminate voice of his. &quot;Mrs. Fletcher particularly said you
+were not to make a noise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Right you are. I say, Shane, you stand against the wall, and
+let's shy things at you.&quot; This from Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not to throw things about,&quot; said Mr. Shane.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then what are we to do, that's what I want to know? It seems
+to me we're not to do anything. I never saw such a beastly
+hole! I say, Shane, let half of us get hold of one of your
+arms, and the other half of the other, and have a pull at
+you--tug-of-war, you know. We won't make a noise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane did not seem to consider the proposal tempting. He
+was seated in the window, and had a book on his knees which he
+wanted to read. Not a work of light literature, but a German
+grammar. It was the dream of his life to prepare himself for
+matriculation at the London University. This undersized youth
+was a student born; he had company which never failed him, a
+company of dreams. He dreamed of a future in which he was a
+scholar of renown; and in every moment he could steal he strove
+to bring himself a step nearer to the realization of his
+dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Get up, Shane!--what's that old book you've got?&quot; Griffin made
+a snatch at the grammar. Mr. Shane jealously put it behind his
+back. Books were in his eyes things too precious to be roughly
+handled. &quot;Come and have a lark; what an old mope you are!&quot;
+Griffin caught him by the arm and swung him round into the
+room; the boy was as tall, and probably as strong as the usher.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boys were chiefly engaged in doing nothing; nobody ever did
+do much in that establishment. If a boy had a hobby it was
+laughed out of him. Literature was at a discount: <i>Spring-Heeled
+Jack</i> and <i>The Knights of the Road</i> were the sort of works
+chiefly in request. There was no school library, none of the boys
+seemed to have any books of their own. There was neither cricket
+nor football, no healthy games of any sort. Even in the playground
+the principal occupation was loafing, with a little occasional
+bullying thrown in. Mr. Fletcher was too immersed in the troubles
+of pounds, shillings, and pence to have any time to spare for the
+amusements of the boys. Mr. Till was not athletic. Mr. Shane still
+less so. On fine afternoons the boys were packed off with the
+ushers for a walk, but no more spiritless expeditions could be
+imagined than the walks at Mecklemburg House. The result was that
+the youngsters' life was a wearisome monotony, and they were in
+perpetual mischief for sheer want of anything else to do. And
+mischief so often took the shape of cruelty.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlie Griffin swung Mr. Shane out into the middle of the room,
+and immediately one boy after another came stealing up to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Shane, let's play roley-poley with you,&quot; said Brown
+major. Some one in the rear threw a hard pellet of brown paper,
+which struck Mr. Shane smartly on the head. He winced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who threw that?&quot; asked Griffin. &quot;I say, Shane, why don't you
+whack him? If I were a man I wouldn't let little boys throw
+things at me; you are a man, aren't you, Shane?&quot; He gave
+another jerk to the arm which he still held.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not to pull my arm, Griffin; you hurt me. I wonder why
+you boys can't leave me alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go along! not really! We're only having a game, Shane; we're
+not in school, you know. What shall we do with him, you
+fellows? I vote we tie him in a chair, and stick needles and
+pins into him; he's sure to like that--he's such a jolly old
+fellow, Shane is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you let us go out?&quot; asked Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know Mrs. Fletcher said you were not to go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, bother Mrs. Fletcher! what's that got to do with it? We
+won't tell her if you let us go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane sighed. Had it rested with him he would have been
+only too glad to let them go. Two or three hours of his own
+company would have been like a glimpse of paradise. But there
+was Mrs. Fletcher; she was a lady whose indignation was not to
+be lightly faced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you won't let us go,&quot; said Ellis, &quot;we'll make it hot for
+you. Do you think we're a lot of babies, to be melted by a drop
+of rain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know it's no use asking me. Mrs. Fletcher said you were
+not to go out if it rained, and it is raining.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's not raining,&quot; boldly declared Griffin. &quot;Call this rain!
+why, it's not enough to wet a cat! I never saw such a
+molly-coddle set-out. I go out when I'm at home if it pours
+cats and dogs; nobody minds; why should they? Come on, Shane,
+let's go, there's a trump; we won't sneak, and we'll be back in
+half a jiff.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish you would let me alone,&quot; said Mr. Shane. Somebody
+snatched his book out of his hand. He turned swiftly to recover
+it, but the captor was out of reach. &quot;Give me my book!&quot; he
+cried. &quot;How dare you take my book!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here's a lark! catch hold, Griffin.&quot; Mr. Shane, hurrying to
+recover his treasure, saw it dexterously thrown above his reach
+into the hands of Charlie Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Give me my book, Griffin!&quot; And he made a rush at Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Catch, boys!&quot; Griffin threw the book to some one else before
+Mr. Shane could reach him. It was thrown from one to the other,
+from end to end of the room, probably not being improved by the
+way in which it was handled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The usher stood in the midst of the laughing boys, a picture of
+helplessness. The grammar had cost him half a crown at a
+second-hand bookstall. Half a crown represented to him a
+handsome sum. There were many claims upon his sixteen pounds a
+year; he had to think once, and twice, and thrice before he
+spent half a crown upon a book. His books were to him his
+children. In those dreams of future glory his books were his
+constant companions, his open sesame, his royal road to fame;
+with their aid he could do so much, without their aid so
+little. So now and then he ventured to spend half a crown upon
+a volume which he wanted.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The grammar, being badly aimed, fell just in front of him. He
+made a dash at it. Some one gave him a push and he fell
+sprawling on the floor; but he seized the book with his left
+hand. Griffin, falling on it tooth and nail, caught hold of it
+before he could secure it from danger. There was a rush of half
+a dozen. Every one wanted a finger in the pie. The grammar was
+clutched by half a dozen hands at once. The back was rent off,
+leaves pulled out, the book was torn to shreds. Mr. Shane lay
+on the floor, with the ruins of his grammar in his hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then Bertie Bailey entered the room, victorious from his
+contest with Mr. Till. A shout of welcome greeted him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hullo, Bailey! have you done the lines?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie, a deliberate youth as a rule, took his time to answer.
+He surveyed the scene, then he put his fingers to his nose,
+repeating the gesture with which he had retreated from Mr.
+Till.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Catch me at it!--think I'm a silly?&quot; Then he put his hands
+into his pockets, and slouched into the centre of the room. The
+boys crowded round him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did he let you off?&quot; asked Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course he let me off; I made him: he knew better than to
+try to make me do his lines.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he told the story; the boys laughed. The way in which the
+ushers were compelled to stultify themselves was a standing
+joke at Mecklemburg House. That Mr. Till should have been
+forced to eat his own words, and to let insubordination go
+unpunished, was a humorous idea to them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane still remained upon the floor. He was engaged in
+gathering together the remnants of his grammar. Perhaps a pot
+of paste, with patient manipulation, might restore it yet. He
+would give himself a great deal of labour to avoid the
+expenditure of another half-crown; perhaps he had not another
+half-crown to spend.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the row?&quot; asked Bertie, seeing Mr. Shane engaged in
+gathering up the fragmentary leaves. They told him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going out,&quot; said Bailey, &quot;and I should like to see anybody
+stop me. I say, Mr. Shane, I want to go down to the village.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane repeated his stock phrase.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out while it rained.&quot; He
+had collected all the remnants of his grammar, and was rising
+with them in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Give me hold!&quot; exclaimed Bertie; and he snatched what was left
+of the book out of the usher's hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bailey!&quot; cried Mr. Shane.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, I want to go down to the village. I suppose I may,
+mayn't I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out if it rained,&quot;
+stammered Mr. Shane.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't let me go, I'll burn this rubbish!&quot; Bertie
+flourished the ruined grammar in the tutor's face. Mr. Shane
+made a dart to recover his property; but Bertie was too quick
+for him, and sprang aside beyond his reach. It is not
+improbable that if it had come to a tussle Mr. Shane would have
+got the worst of it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's got a match?&quot; asked Bertie. Some one produced half a
+dozen. &quot;Will you let me go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't burn it,&quot; said Mr. Shane. &quot;It cost me half a crown; I
+only bought it last week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then let me go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What'll Mrs. Fletcher say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How's she to know unless you tell her? I'll be back before
+tea. I don't care if it cost you a hundred half-crowns, I'll
+burn it. Make up your mind. Is it going to cost you half a
+crown to keep me in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie struck a match. Mr. Shane attempted to rush forward to
+put it out, but some of the boys held him back. His heart went
+out to his book as though it were a child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I let you go, you promise me to be back within half an
+hour? I don't know what Mrs. Fletcher will say if she should
+hear of it;--and don't get wet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll promise you fast enough. Mrs. Fletcher won't hear of it;
+and what if she does? She can't eat you. You needn't be afraid
+of my getting wet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shan't let anybody else go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh yes, you will! You'll let Griffin and Ellis go; you don't
+think I'm going all that way alone?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And me!&quot; cried Edgar Wheeler. Pretty nearly all the other boys
+joined him in the cry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not going to have all you fellows coming with me,&quot;
+announced Bertie. &quot;Wheeler can come; but as for the rest of
+you, you can stay at home and go to bed--that's the best place
+for little chaps like you. Now then, Shane, look alive; is it
+going to cost you half a crown, or isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane sighed. If ever there was a case of a round peg in a
+square hole, Mr. Shane's position at Mecklemburg House was a
+case in point. The youth, for he was but a youth, was a good
+youth; he had an earnest, honest, practical belief in God; but
+surely God never intended him for an assistant-master. Perhaps
+in the years to come he might drift into the place which had
+been prepared for him in the world, but it was difficult to
+believe that he was in it now. A studious dreamer, who did
+nothing but dream and study, he would have been no more out of
+his element in a bear garden than in the extremely difficult
+and eminently unsatisfactory position which he was supposed--it
+was veritable supposition--to fill at Mecklemburg House.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How many of you want to go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's me,&quot;--Bertie was not the boy to take the bottom
+seat--&quot;and Griffin, and Ellis, and Wheeler, that's all. Now what
+is the good of keeping messing about like this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're sure you won't be more than half an hour?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, sure as sticks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And what shall I say to Mrs. Fletcher if she finds out? You're
+sure to lay all the blame on me.&quot; Mr. Shane had a prophetic
+eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Say you thought it didn't rain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think it does rain much.&quot; Mr. Shane looked out of the
+window, and salved his conscience with the thought. &quot;Well, if
+you're quite sure you won't get wet, and you won't be more than
+half an hour--you--can--go.&quot; The latter three words came out,
+as it were, edgeways and with difficulty from the speaker's
+mouth, as if even he found the humiliation of his attitude
+difficult to swallow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come along, boys!--here's your old book!&quot; Bertie flung the
+grammar into the air, the leaves went flying in all directions,
+the four boys went clattering out of the room with noise enough
+for twenty, and Mr. Shane was left to recover his dignity and
+collect the scattered volume at his leisure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Nemesis awaited him. No sooner had the conquering heroes
+disappeared than an urchin, not more than eight or nine years
+of age, catching up one of the precious leaves, exclaimed,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let's tear the thing to pieces!&quot; The speaker was little Willie
+Seymour, Bertie Bailey's cousin. It was his first term at
+school, but he already bade fair to do credit to the system of
+education pursued at Mecklemburg House.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Right you are, youngster,&quot; said Fred Philpotts, an elder boy.
+&quot;It's a burning shame to let them go and keep us in. Let's tear
+it all to pieces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And they did. There was a sudden raid upon the scattered
+leaves; at the mercy of twenty pairs of mischievous hands, they
+were soon reduced to atoms so minute as to be altogether beyond
+the hope of any possible recovery. Nothing short of a miracle
+could make those tiny scraps of printed paper into a book
+again. And seeing it was so Mr. Shane leaned his head against
+the
+window-pane and cried.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter III</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">AT MOTHER HUFFHAM'S</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">It was only when Bailey and his friends were away from the house
+that it occurred to them to consider what it was they had come out
+for. They slunk across the grass-grown courtyard, keeping as close
+to the wall as possible, to avoid the lynx-eyes of Mrs. Fletcher.
+That lady was the only person in Mecklemburg House whose authority
+was not entirely contemned. Let who would be master, she would be
+mistress; and she had a way of impressing that fact upon those
+around her which made it quite impossible for those who came within
+reach of her influence to avoid respecting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was truly miserable weather. Any one but a schoolboy would
+have been only too happy to have had a roof of any kind to
+shelter him, but schoolboys are peculiar. It was one of those
+damp mists which not only penetrate through the thickest clothing,
+and soak one to the skin, but which render it difficult to see
+twenty yards in front of one, even in the middle of the day. The
+day was drawing in; ere long the lamps would be lighted; the world
+was already enshrouded in funeral gloom. Not a pleasant afternoon
+to choose for an expedition to nowhere in particular, in quest of
+nothing at all.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boys slunk through the sodden mist, hands in their pockets,
+coat collars turned up about their ears, hats rammed down over
+their eyes, looking anything but a cheerful company. Griffin
+asked a question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Bailey, where are you going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To the village.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you going to the village for?&quot; This from Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For what I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After this short specimen of convivial conversation the four
+trudged on. Alas for their promise to Mr. Shane! The wet was
+already dripping off their hats, and splashings of mud were
+ascending up the legs of their trousers to about the middle of
+their back. In a minute or two Wheeler began again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you got any money?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie pulled up short. &quot;Have you?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got sevenpence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then lend me half?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lend me a penny? I'll pay you next week; honour bright, I
+will,&quot; said Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Griffin was more concise. &quot;Lend me twopence?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler looked unhappy. It appeared that he was the only
+capitalist among the four, and under the circumstances he did
+not feel exactly proud of the position. Although sevenpence
+might do very well for one, it would not be improved by
+quartering.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I know, I daresay,&quot; he grumbled. &quot;You're very fond of
+borrowing, but you're not so fond of paying back again.&quot; He
+trudged on stolidly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey caught him by the arm. &quot;You don't mean that you're not
+going to lend me anything, after my asking for you to come out
+with me, and all?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll lend you twopence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Twopence! What's twopence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's all you'll get; you can have it or lump it, I don't care;
+I'm not dead nuts on lending you anything.&quot; Wheeler was a
+little wiry-built boy, and when he meant a thing very much
+indeed he had an almost terrier-like habit of snapping his
+jaws--he snapped them now. Bailey trudged by his side with an
+air of dudgeon; he probably reflected that, after all, twopence
+was better than nothing. But Ellis and Griffin had their claims
+to urge. They apparently did not contemplate with pleasure the
+prospect of tramping to and from the village for the sake of
+the exercise alone. Ellis began,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, old fellow, you'll lend me a penny, won't you? I'm
+always game for lending you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, I tell you what it is, I won't lend you a blessed
+farthing! It's like your cheek to ask me; you owe me ninepence
+from last term.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I expect a letter from home in the morning with some
+money in it. I'll pay you the ninepence with threepence
+interest--I'll pay you eighteenpence--you see if I don't. And
+if you'll lend me a penny now I'll give you twopence for it in
+the morning. Do now, there's a good fellow, Wheeler; honour
+bright, I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer Wheeler put his finger to his eye and raised the
+eyelid. &quot;See any green in my eye?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a selfish beast!&quot; replied his friend. And so the four
+trudged on. Then Griffin made his attempt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll let you have that knife, Wheeler, if you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want the knife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can have it for threepence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want it for threepence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You offered me fourpence for it yesterday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've changed my mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlie pondered the matter in his mind. They were about
+half-way to their destination, and already bore a closer
+resemblance to drowned rats than living schoolboys. By the time
+they had gone there and back again, it would be possible to
+wring the water out of their clothes; what Mrs. Fletcher would
+have to say remained to be seen. After they had gone a few
+yards further, and paddled through about half a dozen more
+puddles, Charlie began again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll let you have it for twopence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want it for twopence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's a good knife.&quot; No answer. &quot;It cost a shilling.&quot; Still no
+answer. &quot;There's only one blade broken.&quot; Still no reply. &quot;And
+that's only got a bit off near the point.&quot; Still silence. &quot;It's
+a jolly good knife.&quot; Then, with a groan, &quot;I'll let you have it
+for a penny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wouldn't give you a smack in the eye for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After receiving this truly elegant and generous reply, Griffin
+subsided into speechless misery. It is not improbable that, so
+far as he was himself concerned, he began to think that the
+expedition was a failure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In silence they reached the village. It was not a village of
+portentous magnitude, since it only contained thirteen cottages
+and one shop, the shop being the smallest cottage in the place.
+The only point in its favour was that it was the nearest
+commercial establishment to Mecklemburg House. The proprietor
+was a Mrs. Huffham, an ancient lady, with a very bad temper,
+and a still worse reputation--among the boys--for honesty in
+the direction of weights and measures. It must be conceded that
+they could have had no worse opinion of her than she had of
+them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Them young warmints, if they wants to buy a thing they wants
+ninety ounces to the pound, and if they wants to pay for it,
+they wants you to take eightpence for a shilling--oh, I knows
+'em!&quot; So Mrs. Huffham declared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the door of this emporium parley was held. Ellis suddenly
+remembered something.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, I owe old Mother Huffham two-and-three.&quot; So far as the
+gathering mist and the soaking rain enabled one to see, Dick's
+countenance wore a lugubrious expression.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well&quot;--Dick Ellis hesitated--&quot;so long as that brute Stephen
+isn't about the place I don't mind. He called out after me the
+other day, that if I didn't pay he'd take the change out of me
+some other way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Stephen referred to was Mrs. Huffham's grandson, a stalwart
+young fellow of twenty-one or two, who drove the carrier's cart
+to Kingston and back. His ideas on pecuniary obligations were
+primitive. Having learned from experience that it was vain to
+expect Mr. Fletcher to pay his pupils' debts at the village
+shop, he had an uncomfortable way of taking it out of
+refractory debtors in the shape of personal chastisement.
+Endless disputes had arisen in consequence. Mr. Fletcher had on
+more than one occasion threatened the summary Stephen with the
+terrors of the law; but Stephen had snapped his fingers at Mr.
+Fletcher, advising him to pay his own debts, lest worse things
+happened to him. Then Mr. Fletcher had forbidden Mrs. Huffham
+to give credit to the boys; but Mrs. Huffham was an obstinate
+old lady, and treated the headmaster with no more deference
+than her grandson. Finally, Mr. Fletcher had forbidden the boys
+to deal with Mrs. Huffham; but in spite of his prohibition an
+active commerce was carried on, and on more than one occasion
+the irate Stephen had been moved to violence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You should have stopped at home,&quot; was Wheeler's not
+unreasonable reply to Dick's confession. &quot;I don't owe her
+anything. I don't see what you wanted to come for, anyhow, if
+you haven't got any money and you owe her two-and-three.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And turning the handle of the rickety door he entered Mrs.
+Huffham's famed establishment. Bailey, rich in the possession
+of a prospective loan of twopence, and Charlie Griffin followed
+close upon his heels. After hesitating for a moment Ellis went
+in too. To remain shivering outside would have been such a lame
+conclusion to a not otherwise too satisfactory expedition, that
+it seemed to him like the last straw on the camel's back.
+Besides, it was quite on the cards that the impetuous Stephen
+would be engaged in his carrier's work, and be pleasantly
+conspicuous by his absence from home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The interior of the shop was pitchy dark. The little light
+which remained without declined to penetrate through the small
+lozenge-shaped windowpanes. Mrs. Huffham's lamp was not yet
+lit, and the obscurity was increased by the quantity of goods,
+of almost every description, which crowded to overflowing the
+tiny shop. No one came.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let's nick something,&quot; suggested the virtuously minded
+Griffin. Ellis acted on the hint.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not going there and back for nothing, I can tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On a little shelf at the side of the shop stood certain bottles
+of sweets. Dick reached up to get one down. At that moment
+Wheeler gave him a jerk with his arm. Ellis, catching at the
+shelf to steady himself, brought down shelf, bottles and all,
+with a crash upon a counter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thieves!&quot; cried a voice within. &quot;Thieves!&quot; and Mrs. Huffham
+came clattering into the shop, out of some inner sanctum, with
+considerable haste for one of her mature years. &quot;Thieves!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For some moments the old lady's eyes could see nothing in the
+darkness of the shop. She stood, half in, half out, peering
+forward, where the boys could just see her dimly in the shadow.
+They, deeming discretion to be the better part of valour, and
+not knowing what damage they might not have done, stood still
+as mice. Their first impulse was to turn and flee, and Griffin
+was just feeling for the handle of the door, preparatory to
+making a bolt for it, when heavy footsteps were heard
+approaching outside, and the door was flung open with a force
+which all but threw Griffin back upon his friends.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hullo!&quot; said a voice; &quot;is anybody in there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was Stephen Huffham. With all their hearts the boys wished
+they had respected authority and listened to Mr. Shane! There
+was a coolness and promptness about Stephen Huffham's method of
+taking the law into his own hands upon emergency which formed
+the basis of many a tale of terror to which they had listened
+when tucked between the sheets at night in bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Huffham waited for no reply to his question, but he laid an
+iron hand upon Griffin's shoulder and dragged him out into the
+light.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come out of that! Oh, it's you, is it?&quot; Charlie was gifted
+with considerable powers of denial, but he found it quite
+beyond his power to deny Mr. Huffham's assertion then. &quot;Oh,
+there's some more of you, are there? How many of you boys are
+there inside here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They've been a-thieving the things!&quot; came in Mrs. Huffham's
+shrill treble from the back of the shop.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, they have, have they? We'll soon see about that. Unless
+I'm blinder than I used to be, there's young Ellis over there,
+with whom I've promised to have a word of a sort before to-day.
+You bring a light, granny, and look alive; don't keep these
+young gentlemen waiting, not by no manner of means.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Huffham retreated to her parlour, and presently re-appeared
+with a lighted lamp in her hand. This, with great deliberation,
+for her old bones were stiff, and rheumatism forbade anything
+like undue haste, she hung upon a nail, in such a position that
+its not too powerful light shed as great an illumination as
+possible upon the contents of her shop. Far too powerful an
+illumination to suit the boys, for it brought into undue prominence
+the damage wrought by Ellis and his friend. They eyed the ruins,
+and Mrs. Huffham eyed them, and Mr. Stephen Huffham eyed them too.
+The old lady's feelings at the sight were for a moment too deep
+for words, but Mr. Stephen Huffham soon found speech.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who did this?&quot; he asked; and there was something in the tone
+of the inquiry which grated on his hearers' ears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had Dick Ellis and his friend deliberately planned to do as much
+mischief as possible in the shortest possible space of time, they
+could scarcely have succeeded better. Three or four of the bottles
+were broken to pieces, and in their fall they had fallen on a little
+glass case, the chief pride and ornament of Mrs. Huffham's shop,
+which was divided into compartments, in one of which were cigars,
+in another reels of cotton and hanks of thread, and in a third such
+trifles as packets of hair-pins, pots of pomade, note-paper and
+envelopes, and a variety of articles which might be classified under
+the generic name of &quot;fancy goods.&quot; The glass in this case was damaged
+beyond repair; the sweets from the broken bottles had got inside, and
+had become mixed with the cigars, and the paper, and the hair-pins,
+and the pomade, and the rest of the varied contents.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Stephen Huffman not finding himself favoured with an
+immediate reply to his inquiry, repeated it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who did this? Did you do this?&quot; And he gave Charlie Griffin a
+shake which made him feel as though he were being shaken not
+only upside down, but inside out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No-o-o!&quot; said Charlie, as loudly as he was able with Mr.
+Stephen Huffman shaking him as a terrier shakes a rat. &quot;I-I-I
+didn't! Le-e-eave me alone!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll leave you alone fast enough! I'll leave the lot of you
+alone when I've taken all the skin off your bodies! Did you do
+this?&quot; And Mr. Stephen Huffham transferred his attention to
+Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No!&quot; roared Bertie, before Huffman had time to get him fairly
+in his grasp. Mr. Huffman held him at arm's length, and looked
+him full in the face with an intensity of scrutiny which Bertie
+by no means relished.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose none of you did do it; nobody ever does do these
+sort of things, so far as I can make out. It was accidental; it
+always is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His voice had been so far, if not conciliatory, at least not
+unduly elevated. But suddenly he turned upon Ellis with a roar
+which was not unlike the bellow of a bull. &quot;Did you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Ellis started as though he had received an electric shock.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No-o!&quot; he gasped. &quot;It was Wheeler!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, it was Wheeler, was it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wasn't me,&quot; said Wheeler.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, it wasn't you? Who was it, then? That's what I want to
+know; who was it, then?&quot; Mr. Huffham put this question in a
+tone of voice which would have been eminently useful had he
+been addressing some person a couple of miles away, but which
+in his present situation almost made the panes of glass rattle
+in the windows. &quot;Who was it, then?&quot; And he caught hold of Ellis
+and shook him with such velocity to and fro that it was
+difficult for a moment to distinguish what it was that he was
+shaking.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It--was--Whe-e-eler!&quot; gasped Ellis, struggling with his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, just you listen to me, you boys!&quot; began Mr. Huffham.
+(They could scarcely avoid listening to him, considering that
+he spoke in what was many degrees above a whisper.) &quot;I'll put
+it this way, so that we can have things fair and square, and
+know what we're a-doing of. There's a pound's damage been done
+here, so perhaps one of you gentlemen will let me have a
+sovereign. I'm not going to ask who did it; I'm not going to
+ask no questions at all: all I says is, perhaps one of you
+young gentlemen will let me have a sovereign.&quot; He stretched out
+his hand as though he expected to receive a sovereign then and
+there; as it happened he stretched it out in the direction of
+Bertie Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked at the horny, dirt-grimed palm, then up in Mr.
+Huffham's face. A dog-fancier would have said that there was
+some scarcely definable resemblance to the bull-dog in the
+expression of his eyes. &quot;You won't get a sovereign out of me,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, won't I? we'll see!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We will see. I'd nothing to do with it; I don't know who did
+do it. You shouldn't leave the place without a light; who's to
+see in the dark?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You let me finish what I've got to say, then you say your say
+out afterwards. What I say is this--there's a pound's worth of
+damage done----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There isn't a pound's worth of damage done,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder. &quot;You let me finish out
+my say! I say there is a pound's worth of damage done; you can
+settle who it was among you afterwards; and what I say is this,
+either you pays me that pound before you leave this shop or
+I'll give the whole four of you such a flogging as you never
+had in all your days--I'll skin you alive!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It won't give me my money your flogging them,&quot; wailed Mrs.
+Huffham from behind the counter. &quot;It's my money I wants! Here
+is all them bottles broken, and the case smashed--and it cost
+me two pound ten, and everything inside of it's a-ruined. It's
+my money I wants!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's what I wants too; so which of you young gents is going to
+hand over that there sovereign?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wheeler's got sevenpence,&quot; suggested Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sevenpence! what's sevenpence? It's a pound I want! Which of
+you is going to fork up that there pound?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There isn't a pound's worth of damage done,&quot; said Bertie;
+&quot;nothing like. If you let us go, we'll get five shillings
+somehow, and bring it you in a week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In a week--five shillings! you catch me at it! Why, if I was
+once to let you outside that door, you'd put your fingers to
+your noses, and you'd call out, 'There goes old Huffham!
+yah--h--h!'&quot; And he gave a very fair imitation of the greeting
+which the sight of him was apt to call forth from the very
+youths in front of him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If they was the young gentlemen they calls themselves they'd
+pay up, and not try to rob an old woman what's over seventy
+year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, what's it going to be, your money or your life?
+That's the way to put it, because I'll only just let you off
+with your life, I'll tell you. Look sharp; I want my tea!
+What's it going to be, your money, or rather, my old
+grandmother's money over there, an old woman who finds it a
+pretty tight fit to keep herself out of the workhouse----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, that she do,&quot; interpolated the grandmother in question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Or your life?&quot; He looked in turn from one boy to the other,
+and finally his gaze rested on Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie met his eyes with a sullen stare. &quot;I tell you I'd
+nothing to do with it,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I tell you I don't care that who had to do with it,&quot; and
+Mr. Huffham snapped his fingers. &quot;You're that there pack of
+liars I wouldn't believe you on your oath before a judge and
+jury, not that I wouldn't!&quot; and his fingers were snapped again.
+He and Bailey stood for a moment looking into each other's
+face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you hit me for what I didn't do, I'll do something worth
+hitting for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Will you?&quot; Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder, and held
+him as in a vice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you hit me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Apparently Mrs. Huffham was impressed by something in his
+manner. &quot;Don't you hit 'un hard! now don't you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Won't I? I'll hit him so hard, I'll about do for him, that's
+about as hard as I'll hit him.&quot; A look came into Mr. Huffham's
+face which was not nice to see. Bailey never flinched; his
+hard-set jaw and sullen eyes made the resemblance to the
+bulldog more vivid still. &quot;You pay me that pound!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wouldn't if I had it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In an instant Mr. Huffham had swung him round, and was raining
+blows with his clenched fist upon the boy's back and shoulders.
+But he had reckoned without his host, if he had supposed the
+punishment would be taken quietly. The boy fought like a cat,
+and struggled and kicked with such unlooked-for vigour that Mr.
+Huffham, driven against the counter and not seeing what he was
+doing, struck out wildly, knocked the lamp off its nail with
+his fist, and in an instant the boy and the man were struggling
+in the darkness on the floor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then a stentorian voice shouted through the glass window
+of the rickety door,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter IV</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">A LITTLE DRIVE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Those within the shop had been too much interested in their own
+proceedings to be conscious of a dog-cart, which came tearing
+through the darkening shadows at such a pace that startled
+pedestrians might be excused for thinking that it was a case of
+a horse running away with its driver. But such would have been
+convinced of their error when, in passing Mrs. Huffham's, on
+hearing Mr. Stephen bellowing with what seemed to be the full
+force of a pair of powerful lungs, the vehicle was brought to a
+standstill as suddenly as a regiment of soldiers halt at the
+word of command. The driver spoke to the horse,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady! stand still, old girl!&quot; The speaker alighted.
+Approaching Mrs. Huffham's, he stood at the glass-windowed
+door, observing the proceedings within; and when Mr. Stephen,
+in his blind rage, struck the lamp from its place and plunged
+the scene in darkness, the unnoticed looker-on turned the
+handle of the door and entered the shop, shouting, in tones
+which made themselves audible above the din,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!&quot; And standing on
+the threshold, he repeated his assertion, &quot;Bravo! that's the
+best plucked boy I've seen.&quot; He drew a box of matches from his
+pocket, and striking one, he held the flickering flame above
+his head, so that some little light was shed upon what was
+going on within. &quot;What's this little argument?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Seeing that Mr. Huffman was still holding Bailey firmly in his
+grasp, &quot;Hold hard, big one,&quot; he said; &quot;let the little chap get
+up. You ought to have your little arguments outside; this place
+isn't above half large enough to swing a cat in. Granny, bring
+a light!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the match was just on the point of going out he struck
+another, and entered the shop with it flaming in his hand. Mrs.
+Huffham's nerves were too shaken to allow her to pay that
+instant attention to the new-comer's orders which he seemed to
+demand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look alive, old lady; bring a light! This old band-box is as
+dark as pitch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus urged, the old lady disappeared, presently reappearing
+with a little table-lamp in her trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Put it somewhere out of reach--if anything is out of reach in
+this dog-hole of a place. I shouldn't be surprised if you had a
+little bonfire with the next lamp that's upset.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Huffman placed it on a shelf in the extreme corner of the
+shop, from which post of vantage it did not light the scene
+quite so brilliantly as it might have done. Mr. Stephen and the
+boy, relaxing a moment from the extreme vigour of discussion,
+availed themselves of the opportunity to see what sort of
+person the stranger might chance to be.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was a man of gigantic stature, probably considerably over
+six feet high, but so broad in proportion that he seemed
+shorter than he actually was. A long waterproof, from which the
+rain was trickling in little streams, reached to his feet; the
+hood was drawn over his head, and under its shadow was seen a
+face which was excellently adapted to the enormous frame. A
+huge black beard streamed over the stranger's breast, and a
+pair of large black eyes looked out from overhanging brows. He
+was the first to break the silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what is this little argument?&quot; Then, without waiting for
+an answer, he continued, addressing Mr. Huffham, &quot;You're rather
+a large size, don't you think, for that sized boy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who are you? and what do you want? If there's anything you
+want to buy, perhaps you'll buy it, and take yourself outside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger put his hand up to his beard, and began pulling
+it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's nothing I want to buy, not just now.&quot; He looked at
+Bailey. &quot;What's he laying it on for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's not bad, considering. What were you laying it on for?&quot;
+This to Huffham.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've not finished yet, not by no manner of means; I mean to
+take it out of all the lot of 'em. Call themselves gents! Why,
+if a working-man's son was to behave as they does, he'd get
+five years at a reformatory. I've known it done before today.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I daresay you have; you look like a man who knew a thing or
+two. What were you laying it on for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What for? why, look here!&quot; And Mr. Huffham pointed to the
+broken bottles and the damaged case.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I'm a hard-working woman, I am, sir, and I'm seventy-three
+this next July; and it's hard work I find it to pay my rent:
+and wherever I'm to get the money for them there things,
+goodness knows, I don't. It'll be the workhouse, after all!&quot;
+Thus Mrs. Huffham lifted up her voice and wept.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And they calls themselves gents, and they comes in here, and
+takes advantage of an old woman, and robs her right and left,
+and thinks they're going to get off scot free; not if I know it
+this time they won't.&quot; Mr. Stephen Huffham looked as though he
+meant it, every word.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you do that?&quot; asked the stranger of Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I didn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't care who did it; they're that there liars I wouldn't
+believe a word of theirs on oath; they did it between them, and
+that's quite enough for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose one of you did do it?&quot; asked the stranger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey thrust his hands in his pockets, looking up at the
+stranger with the dogged look in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The place was pitch dark; why didn't they have a light in the
+place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Because there didn't happen to be a light in the place, is
+that any reason why you should go smashing everything you could
+lay your hands on? Why couldn't you wait for a light? Go on
+with you! I'll take the skin off your back!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How much?&quot; asked the stranger, paying no attention to Mr.
+Stephen's eloquence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a heap of mischief done, heap of mischief!&quot; wailed the
+old lady in the rear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How am I to tell all the mischief that's been done? Just look
+at the place; a sovereign wouldn't cover it, no, that it
+wouldn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There isn't five shillings' worth of harm,&quot; said Bertie. &quot;If
+you were to get five shillings, you'd make a profit of half a
+crown.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger laughed, and Mr. Huffham scowled; the look which
+he cast at Bertie was not exactly a look of love, but the boy
+met it without any sign of flinching.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll be even with you yet, my lad!&quot; Mr. Stephen said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I give you a sovereign you will be even,&quot; suggested the
+stranger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Stephen's eyes glistened; and his grandmother, clasping her
+old withered palms together, cast a look of rapture towards the
+ceiling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, deary me! deary me!&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's a swindle,&quot; muttered Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, it's a swindle, is it?&quot; snarled Mr. Stephen. &quot;I'd like to
+swindle you, my fighting cock.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You couldn't do it,&quot; retorted Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger laughed again. Unbuttoning his waterproof, and in
+doing so distributing a shower of water in his immediate
+neighbourhood, out of his trousers pocket he took a heavy
+purse, out of the purse he took a sovereign, and the sovereign
+he handed to Mr. Stephen Huffham. Mr. Stephen's palm closed on
+the glittering coin with a certain degree of hesitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now you're quits,&quot; said the stranger, &quot;you and the boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quits!&quot; said Bertie, &quot;it's seventeen-and-sixpence in his
+pocket!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Stephen smiled, not quite pleasantly; he might have been
+moved to speech had not the stranger interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're pretty large, and that's all you are; if this boy were
+about your size, he'd lay it on to you. I should say you were a
+considerable fine sample of a--coward.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Stephen held his peace. There was something in the
+stranger's manner and appearance which induced him to think
+that perhaps he had better be content with what he had
+received. After having paused for a second or two, seemingly
+for some sort of reply from Mr. Huffham, the stranger addressed
+the boys.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Get out!&quot; They went out, rather with the air of beaten curs.
+The stranger followed them. &quot;Get up into the cart; I'm going to
+take you home to my house to tea.&quot; They looked at each other,
+in doubt as to whether he was jesting. &quot;Do you hear? Get up
+into the cart! You, boy,&quot; touching Bailey on the shoulder, &quot;you
+ride alongside me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Still they hesitated. It occurred to them that they had already
+broken their engagement with the credulous Mr. Shane, broken it
+in the most satisfactory manner, in each separate particular.
+They were not only wet and muddy, looking somewhat as though
+they had recently been picked out of the gutter, but that
+half-hour within which they had pledged themselves to return
+had long since gone. But if they hesitated, there was no trace
+of hesitation about the stranger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, do you think I want to wait here all night? Tumble
+up, you boy.&quot; And fairly lifting Wheeler off his legs, he bore
+him bodily through the air, and planted him at the back of the
+trap. And not Wheeler only, but Griffin and Ellis too. Before
+those young gentlemen had quite realized their position, or the
+proposal he had made to them, they found themselves clinging to
+each other to prevent themselves tumbling out of the back of
+what was not a very large dog-cart. &quot;You're none of you big
+ones! Catch hold of each other's hair or something, and don't
+fall out; I can't stop to pick up boys. Now then, bantam, up
+you go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Bertie, handled in the same undignified fashion, found
+himself on the front seat beside the driver. The stranger, big
+though he was, apparently allowed his size to interfere in no
+degree with his agility. In a twinkling he was seated in his
+place by Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady!&quot; he cried. &quot;Look out, you boys!&quot; He caught the reins
+in his hands; the mare knew her master's touch, and in an
+instant, even before the boys had altogether yet quite realized
+their situation, they were dashing through the darkening night.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was about as cheerless an evening as one could very well
+select for a drive in an open vehicle. The stranger, enveloped
+in his waterproof, his hood in some degree sheltering his face,
+a waterproof rug drawn high above his knees, was more
+comfortable than the boys. Bailey, indeed, had a seat to sit
+upon and a share of the rug, but his friends had neither seat
+nor shelter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Perhaps, on the whole, they would have been better off had they
+been walking. The imperfect light and the hasty start rendered
+it difficult for them to have a clear view of their position.
+The mare--which, had it been lighter and they versed in
+horseflesh, they would have been able to recognise as a very
+tolerable specimen of an American trotter--made the pace so hot
+that they had to cling, if not to each other's hair, at least
+to whatever portion of each other's person they could manage to
+get hold of. Even then it was only by means of a series of
+gymnastic feats that they were able to keep their footing and
+save themselves from being pitched out on to the road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They had not gone far when Griffin had a disaster.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've lost my hat!&quot; he cried. Wind and pace and nervousness
+combined had loosened his headgear, and without staying to bid
+farewell to his head, it disappeared into the night.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger gave utterance to a loud yet musical laugh.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind your hat! Can't stop for hats! The fresh air will
+do you good, cool your head, my boy!&quot; But this was a point of
+view which did not occur to Griffin; he was rather disposed to
+wonder what Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would say.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish you wouldn't catch hold of my throat; you'll strangle
+me,&quot; said Wheeler, as the vehicle dashed round a sharp turn in
+the road, and the hatless Griffin made a frantic clutch at his
+friend to save himself from following his hat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--can't--help--it,&quot; gasped his friend in reply. &quot;I wish he
+wouldn't go so fast. Oh--h!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger laughed again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't tumble out! we can't stop to pick up boys! Hullo! what
+are you up to there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The trio in the rear were apparently engaged in a fight for
+life. They were uttering choking ejaculations, and struggling
+with each other in their desperate efforts to preserve their
+perpendicular. In the course of their struggle they lurched
+against the stranger with such unexpected violence that had he
+not with marvellous rapidity twisted round in his seat and
+caught them with his arm, they would in all probability have
+continued their journey on the road. At the same instant, with
+his disengaged hand he brought the horse, who seemed to obey
+the directions of its master's hand with mechanical accuracy,
+to a sudden halt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, then, are you all right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They were very far from being all right, but were not at that
+moment possessed of breath to tell him so. Had they not lost
+the power of speech they would have joined in a unanimous
+appeal to him to set them down, and let them go anywhere, and
+do anything, rather than allow them to continue any longer at
+the mercy of his too rapid steed. But the stranger seemed to
+take their involuntary silence for acquiescence. Once more they
+were dashing through the night, and again they were hanging on
+for their bare lives.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Like driving, youngster?&quot; The question was addressed to
+Bailey. &quot;Like horses? Like a beast that can go? Mary Anne can
+give a lead to a flash of lightning and catch it in two T's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mary Anne&quot; was apparently the steed. At that moment the trio
+in the rear would have believed anything of Mary Anne's powers
+of speed, but Bailey held his peace. The stranger went on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I like a drive on a night like this. I like dashing through
+the wind and the darkness and the rain. I like a thing to fire
+my blood, and that's the reason why I like you. That's the
+reason why I've asked you home to tea. What's your name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bailey, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I knew a man named Bailey down in Kentucky who was hanged
+because he was too fond of horses--other people's, not his own.
+Any relation of yours?&quot; Bertie disclaimed the soft impeachment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think so, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's no knowing. Lots of people are hanged without their own
+mothers knowing anything about it, let alone their fathers,
+especially out Kentucky way. A cousin of mine was hanged in Golden
+City, and I shouldn't have known anything about it to this day if
+I hadn't come along and seen his body swinging on a tree. As nice a
+fellow as man need know, six-feet-one-and-three-quarters in his
+stockings--three-quarters of an inch shorter than me. They explained
+to me that they'd hanged him by mistake, which was some consolation
+to me, anyway, though what he thought of it is more than I can say.
+I cut him down, dug a hole seven foot deep, and laid him there to
+sleep; and there he sleeps as sound as though he'd handed in his
+checks upon a feather bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey looked up at the speaker. He was not quite sure if he
+was in earnest, and was anything but sure that the little
+narrative which he rolled so glibly off his tongue might not be
+the instant coinage of his brain. But something in the
+speaker's voice and manner attracted him even more than his
+words; something he would have found it difficult to describe.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that true?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger looked down at him and laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't.&quot; He laughed again. &quot;Wet,
+youngster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should rather think I am,&quot; was Bertie's grim response. All
+the stranger did was to laugh again. Bailey ventured on an
+inquiry. &quot;Do you live far from here?&quot; He was conscious of a
+certain degree of interest as to whether the stranger was
+driving them to Kentucky; he, too, had Mr. Shane and Mrs.
+Fletcher in his mind's eye. &quot;Shane'll get sacked for this, as
+sure as fate,&quot; was his mental observation. He was aware that at
+Mecklemburg House the sins of the pupils not seldom fell upon
+the heads of the assistant-masters.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pain's Hill,&quot; was the answer to his question. &quot;Ever heard of
+Washington Villa?&quot; Bertie could not say he had.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am George Washington Bankes, the proprietor thereof. Yes,
+and it isn't so long ago that if any one had said to me that I
+should settle down as a country gentleman, I should have said,
+'There have been liars since Ananias, but none quite as big as
+you.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey eyed him from a corner of his eye. His father was a
+medical man, with no inconsiderable country practice. He had
+seen something of country gentlemen, but it occurred to him
+that a country gentleman in any way resembling his new
+acquaintance he had not yet chanced to see.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You at the school there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Taking it for granted that he referred to Mecklemburg House,
+Bertie confessed that he was.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you run away? I would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie started; he had read of boys running away from school in
+stories of the penny dreadful type, but he had not yet heard of
+country gentlemen suggesting that course of action as a
+reasonable one for the rising generation to pursue.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Every boy worth his salt ought to run away. I did, and I've
+never done a more sensible thing to this day.&quot; In that case one
+could not but wonder for how many sensible things Mr. George
+Washington Bankes had been remarkable in the course of his
+career. &quot;I've been from China to Peru, from the North Pole to
+the South. I've been round the world all sorts of ways; and the
+chances are that if I hadn't run away from school I should
+never have travelled twenty miles from my old mother's door.
+Why don't you run away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie wriggled in his seat and gasped.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, I'll talk to you about that when I get you home. You're about
+the best plucked lad I've seen, or you wouldn't have stood up in
+the way you did to that great hulking lubber there; and rather than
+see a lad of parts wasting his time at school--but you wait a bit.
+I'll open your eyes, my lad. I'll give you some idea of what a man's
+life ought to be! Books never did me any good, and never will. I say,
+throw books, like physic, to the dogs--a life of adventure's the
+life for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie listened open-eyed and open-mouthed; he began to think
+he was in a waking dream. There was a wildness about his new
+acquaintance, and about his mode of speech, which filled him
+with a sort of dull, startled wonder. There was in the boy,
+deep-rooted somewhere, that half-unconscious longing for things
+adventurous which the British youngster always has. Mr. Bankes
+struck a chord which filled the boy almost with a sense of
+pain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A life of adventure's the life for me!&quot; Mr. Bankes repeated
+his confession of faith, laughing as he did so; and the words,
+and the voice, and the manner, and the laugh, all mixed
+together, made the boy, wet as he was, glow with a sudden
+warmth. &quot;A life of adventure's the life for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The drive was nearly ended, and during the rest of it Mr.
+Bankes kept silence. Wheeler's hat had followed Griffin's, but
+he had not mentioned it; partly because, as he thought, he
+would receive no sympathy and not much attention, and partly
+because, in his anxiety to keep his footing in the trap, and
+get out of it with his bones whole, it would have been a matter
+of comparative indifference to him if the rest of his clothing
+had followed his hat. But he, too, mistily wondered what Mr.
+Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would say.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fortunately for his peace of mind, and the peace of mind of his
+two friends, the good steed, Mary Anne, brought them safely to
+the doors of Washington Villa. Fond of driving as they were, as
+a rule, they were conscious of a distinct sense of relief when
+that drive was at an end.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter V</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">AN EVENING AT WASHINGTON VILLA</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Washington Villa appeared, from what one could see in the
+darkness, to be a fairly sized house, standing in its own
+grounds. Considerable stabling was built apart from, but
+close to the house, and as the trap dashed along the little
+carriage-drive numerous loud-voiced dogs announced the fact of
+an arrival to whomever it might concern. The instant the
+vehicle stopped, the hall door was opened, and a little
+wizened, shrunken man came down the steps. Mr. Bankes threw him
+the reins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Jump out, you boys, and tumble into the house. Welcome to
+Washington Villa.&quot; Suiting the action to the word, and before
+his young friends had clearly realized the fact of their having
+arrived at their destination, he had risen from his seat,
+sprung to the ground, and was standing on the threshold of the
+door. The boys were not long in following suit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come this way!&quot; Striding on in front of them, through a hall
+of no inconsiderable dimensions, he led them into a room in
+which a bright fire was blazing, and which was warm with light.
+A pretty servant girl made a simultaneous entrance through a
+door on the other side of the room. &quot;Catch hold.&quot; Tearing
+rather than taking off his waterproof and hood, he flung them
+to the maid. &quot;Where are my slippers?&quot; The maid produced a pair
+from the fender, where they had been placed to warm; and Mr.
+Bankes thrust his feet into them, flinging his boots off on to
+the floor. &quot;Tea for five, and a good tea, too, and in about
+less time than it would take me to shoot a snake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The maid disappeared with a laugh on her face; she was
+apparently used to Mr. Bankes, and to Mr. Bankes' mode of
+speech. Then, after having attended to his own comfort, the
+host turned his attention to his guests.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you're a nice lot of half-drowned puppies. By right, I
+ought to hang you up in front of the kitchen fire to dry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His guests shuffled about upon their feet with not quite a
+graceful air. It was true that they looked in about as
+miserable a condition as they very well could do; but
+considering the circumstances under which they had travelled,
+it was scarcely to be wondered at. Had Mr. Bankes travelled in
+their place, he might have looked like a half-drowned puppy
+too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But a wetting will do you good, and as for mud, why, I don't
+care for mud. I've swallowed too much of it in my time to stick
+at a trifle. When I was a boy, I was the dirtiest little
+blackguard ever seen. Now, then, is that tea ready? Come
+along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And off he strode into the hall, the boys following sheepishly
+in the rear. Wheeler poked Bailey in the side with his elbow,
+and Bailey poked Griffin, and they each of them poked the
+other, and they grinned. Their feelings were altogether too
+much for speech. What Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would think
+and say--but that was a matter on which they would not
+improbably be able to speak more fully later on. A more
+unguestlike-looking set of guests could hardly be conceived.
+Not only were their boots concealed beneath thick layers of
+mud, but they were spattered with mud from head to foot; their
+hands and faces were filthy, and their hair was in a state of
+untidiness better imagined than described. They had their
+everyday clothes on; their trousers were in general too short
+in the leg, and their coats too short in the sleeves; while
+Griffin was radiant with a mighty patch in the seat of his
+breeches of a totally different material to the original cloth.
+It was fortunate that Mr. Bankes did not stick at trifles, or
+he would never have allowed his newly-discovered guests to
+enter his well-kept residence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They followed their host into a room on the other side of the
+hall, and the sight they saw almost took their breath away. A
+table laden with more delicacies than they remembered to have
+seen crowded together for a considerable space of time was,
+especially after the fare to which they were accustomed at
+Mecklemburg House, a spectacle calculated at any time to fill
+them with a satisfaction almost amounting to awe. But to come
+out of such a night to such a prospect! To come to feast from
+worse than famine! The revulsion of feeling was considerable,
+and the aspect of the guests became even more sheepish than
+before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sit down, and pitch in. If you're as hungry as I am, you'll
+eat the table, legs and all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boys needed no second invitation. In a very short space of
+time host and guests alike were doing prodigies of execution.
+The nimble-handed servant-maid found it as much as she could do
+to supply their wants. On the details of the feast we need not
+dwell. It partook of the nature of a joke to call that
+elaborate meal tea. By the time it was finished the four young
+gentlemen had not only ceased to think of what Mrs. Fletcher
+and Mr. Shane might say, but they had altogether forgotten the
+existence of Mecklemburg House Collegiate School; and even
+Charlie Griffin was prepared to declare that he had thoroughly
+enjoyed that nightmare journey from Mrs. Huffham's to the
+present abode of bliss. The meal had been no less to the
+satisfaction of the host than of his guests.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Done?&quot; They signified by their eloquent looks as much as by
+their speech that they emphatically had. &quot;Then let's go back to
+the other room.&quot; And they went.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A peculiarity of this other room was that all the chairs in it
+were arm-chairs; and in four of not the least comfortable of
+these arm-chairs the boys found themselves seated at their
+ease. Over the fire-place, arranged in the fashion of a trophy,
+were a large number of venerable-looking pipes. Taking one of
+these down, Mr. Bankes proceeded to fill it from a tobacco jar
+which stood in a corner of the mantelshelf. Then he lit it,
+and, planting himself in the centre of the hearthrug, right in
+front of the fire, he thrust his hands into his pockets and
+looked down upon his guests, a huge, black-bearded giant,
+puffing at his pipe.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Had a good feed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They signified that they had.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know what I brought you here for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The food and the warmth combined had brought them into a state
+of exceeding peace, and they were inclined to sleep. Why he had
+brought them there they neither knew nor cared; they were
+beyond such trifling. They had had a good meal, the first for
+many days, and it behoved them to be thankful.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell you. I brought you here because I want to get you,
+the whole lot of you, to run away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His listeners opened their eyes and ears. Bailey had made some
+acquaintance with his host's character before, but his three
+friends stared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Every boy worth his salt runs away from school. I did, and it
+was the most sensible thing I ever did in my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Mr. Bankes thus repeated the assertion which he had made
+to Bailey in the trap, his hearers banished sleep and began to
+wonder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the use of school? What do you do there? What do you do
+at that tumble-down old red-brick house on the Cobham road?
+Why, you waste your time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This assertion, if, to a certain extent, true, as it applied to
+the establishment in question, was a random shot as applied to
+schools in general.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I tell you what I learnt at school? I learnt to hate it,
+and I haven't forgotten that lesson to this day; no, and I
+shan't till I'm packed away with a lot of dirt on top of me. My
+father,&quot; Mr. Bankes took his pipe out of his mouth, and pointed
+his remarks with it as he went on, &quot;died of a broken heart, and
+so should I have done if I hadn't cut it short and run away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No man ever looked less like dying of a broken heart than Mr.
+Bankes did then.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A life of adventure's the life for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They were the words which had thrilled through Bertie when he
+had heard them in the trap; they thrilled him again as he heard
+them now, and they thrilled his companions too. They stared up
+at Mr. Bankes as though he held them with a spell; nor would
+that gentleman have made a bad study for a wizard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A life of adventure's the life for me! Under foreign skies in
+distant lands, away from the twopenny-halfpenny twaddle of
+spelling-books and sums, seeking fortune and finding it, a man
+in the midst of men, not a finicking idiot among a pack of
+babies. Why don't you run away? You see me? I was at school at
+Nottingham; I was just turned thirteen: I ran away with
+ninepence-halfpenny in my pocket. I got to London somehow; and
+from London I got abroad, somehow too; and abroad I've picked
+up fortune after fortune, thrown them all away, and picked them
+up again. Now I've had about enough of it, I've made another
+little pile, and this little pile I think I'll keep, at least
+just yet awhile. But what a life it's been! What larks I've
+had, what days and nights, what months and years! Why, when I
+think of all I've done, and of what I might have done, rotted
+away my life, if it hadn't been for that little bolt from
+school,--why, when I think of that, I never see a boy but I
+long to take him by the scruff of the neck, and sing out,
+'Youngster, why don't you do as I have done, cut away from
+school, and run?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes flung back his head and laughed. But whether he was
+laughing at them, or at his own words, or at his recollections
+of the past, was more than they could say. They looked at each
+other, conscious that their host was not the least part of the
+afternoon's entertainment, and somewhat at a loss as to whether
+he was drawing the long bow, taking them to be younger and more
+verdant than they were, or whether he was seriously advancing
+an educational system of his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He startled them by putting a question point-blank to Bailey,
+one which he had put before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you run away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know!&quot; stammered Bertie. Then, frankly, as the idea
+occurred to him, &quot;Because I never thought of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes laughed. His constant tendency to laughter, with or
+without apparent reason, seemed to be his not least remarkable
+characteristic.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now you have thought of it, why don't you run away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey turned the matter over in his mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why should I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His friends looked at each other, thinking the conversation
+just a trifle queer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why ever should he run away?&quot; asked Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And wherever would he run to?&quot; added Wheeler.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Dick Ellis said nothing, but possibly he thought the more. Mr.
+Bankes directed his reply directly at Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell you why you ought to run away; because that's the
+shortest cut into a world into which you will never get by any
+other road. I'll tell you where you ought to run to, out of
+this little fleabite of an island, into the lands of golden
+dreams and golden possibilities, my lad; where men at night lay
+themselves down poor, and in the morning rise up rich.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes, warming with his theme, began to gesticulate and
+stamp about the room, the boys following him with all their
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hate your huggermuggering existence; why should a lad of
+parts huggermugger all his life away? When I saw you stand up
+to that great lout, I said to myself, 'That lad has grit; he's
+just the very spit of what I was when I was just his age; he's
+too good to be left to muddle in this old worn-out country, to
+waste his time with books and sums and trash.' I said to
+myself, 'I'll lend him a helping hand,' and so I will. I'll
+show you the road, if I do nothing else; and if you don't
+choose to take it, it's yourself's to blame, not me.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When I was out in Colorado, at Denver City, there was a boy
+came along, just about your age; he came along from away down
+East. He was English; he'd got himself stowed away, and he'd
+made his way to the promised land. He took a spade one day, and
+he marked out a claim, and that boy he worked it, he did, and
+it turned up trumps; there wasn't any dirt to dig, because
+pretty nearly all that his spade turned up was virgin silver.
+He sold that claim for 10,000 dollars, money down, and he went
+on and prospered. That boy is now a man; he owns, I daresay,
+half a dozen silver mines, and he's so rich,--ah, he's so rich
+he doesn't know how rich he is. Now why shouldn't you have been
+that boy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes paused for a reply, but his listeners furnished
+none. Griffin was on the point of suggesting that Bailey was
+not that boy because he wasn't; but he refrained, thinking that
+perhaps that was not quite the sort of answer that was wanted.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I knew another boy when I was going up from the coast to
+Kimberley, Griqualand West. Do you boys know where that is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This sudden plunge into geographical examination took his
+guests aback; they did not know where Griqualand West was;
+perhaps they had been equally misty as to the whereabouts of
+Denver City, Colorado.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's in South Africa. Ah, that's the way to learn geography,
+to travel about and see the places,--pitch your books into the
+fire!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And is the other place in South Africa?&quot; queried Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes gave him a look the like of which he had never
+received from Mr. Fletcher; a look of thunder, as though he
+would have liked to pick him up, then and there, and pitch him
+after the books into the fire.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Denver City, Colorado, in South Africa?&quot; he roared. &quot;Why, you
+leather-headed noodle, where were you at school? If I were the
+man who taught you, I'd flog you from here to Dublin with a
+cat-o'-nine-tails, rather than I'd let you expose your
+ignorance like that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sudden advent among them of an explosive bomb might have
+created a little more astonishment than this speech, but not
+much. Griffin felt that he had better abstain from questioning,
+and let his host run on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Denver City is in the United States of America, in the land of
+the stars and bars, as every idiot knows! As I was saying,
+before that young gentleman wrote himself down donkey--and he
+looks it, every inch of him!--as I was saying, when I was going
+up from the coast to Kimberley, there was a boy who used to do
+odd jobs for me; he hadn't sixpenny-worth of clothes upon his
+back! I lost sight of him; five years afterwards I met him
+again. It was like a tale out of the <i>Arabian Nights</i>, I tell
+you! That ragged boy that was, when I saw him again five years
+afterwards, he reckoned to cover what any half-dozen men might
+have put down, and double it afterwards. And look at the life
+he'd led! It's no good my talking about it here, you'd hardly
+believe me if I told you half the things he'd done. Don't you
+believe any of your adventure books. There aren't half the
+adventures crowded into any book which that lad had seen. Yes,
+a life of adventure was the life for him, and he'd had it,
+too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes returned to his post of vantage in front of the
+fire. In his excitement he had smoked his pipe to premature
+ashes; he refilled and lighted it. Then he addressed himself to
+Bailey, marking time as he went on by beating the palm of his
+right hand against his left.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, don't let a day be wasted--days lost are not recovered;
+now's your time, and now's your opportunity; don't let the
+week's end find you huggermuggering in that old school. Go out
+into the world! learn to be a man! Try your courage! Put your
+powers to the test! Search for the golden land! Let a life of
+adventure be the life for you! As for you,&quot; Mr. Bankes turned
+with ominous suddenness towards Charlie Griffin, &quot;I don't say
+that to you; what I say to you is this: write home to your
+mother for a good supply of flannel petticoats, and wrap
+yourself up warm, and let your hair grow long, and take care of
+your complexion. You're a beauty boy, one of the sort who
+didn't ought to be trusted out after dark alone, and who's sure
+to have a fit if he sees the moon!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It is a question if this sudden change of subject made Griffin
+or his friends the more uncomfortable. Thinking that Mr. Bankes
+intended a joke, and that it would be ungrateful not to laugh,
+Ellis attempted a snigger; but a sudden gleam from his host's
+eyes in his direction brought his mirth to an untimely ending.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you laughing at?&quot; asked Mr. Bankes. Ellis kept
+silence, being most unwilling to confess that he did not know.
+Mr. Bankes addressed himself again to Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is you I am advising to do as I did, to try a fall with the
+world and to back yourself to win, not such things as those.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Under this heading he included Bertie's three friends, with an
+eloquent wave of his hand in their direction.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wants a boy to make a man, not a farthing sugar stick!
+You'll have cause to bless this evening all your life, and to
+bless me, too, if you take the tip I've given you. Don't you
+listen to those who talk to you about the hardships you will
+meet. What's life without hardships, I should like to know;
+it's hardships make the man! I'm not advising you to wrap
+yourself up in cotton-wool; leave cotton-wool to mutton-headed
+dummies;&quot; this with a significant glance in the direction of
+Bailey's friends. &quot;Rather I tell you this, you back yourself to
+fight, and fight it out, and fight to win, and win you will!
+Run away to-night, to-morrow, I don't care when, so long as
+it's within the week. There's nothing like striking the iron
+while it's hot, and set the clock a-going which will never stop
+until it strikes the hour of victory won and fortune made! A
+life of adventure's the life for me, and it's the life for you,
+and the sooner you begin it the longer it will last and the
+sweeter it will be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was something in Mr. Bankes' tone and manner, when he
+chose to put it there, which, in the eyes of his present
+audience, at any rate, had all the effect of natural eloquence.
+His excitement excited them, and almost he persuaded them to
+believe in the reality of his golden dreams. Bailey, indeed,
+sat silent, spellbound. Mr. Bankes, by no means a bad judge of
+character, had not mistaken the metal of which the boy was
+made, and every stroke he struck, struck home. As was not
+unnatural, Mr. Bankes' eloquence had a very much more mixed
+effect on Bailey's friends. Their host gave a sudden turn to
+their thoughts by taking out his watch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Eleven o'clock! whew-w-w!&quot; This was a whistle. &quot;They'll think
+you've run away already! Ha! ha! ha! I'm not going to have you
+boys sleep here, so the sooner you go the better. Now then, out
+you go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His guests sprang to their feet as he made a movement as though
+he would turn them out with as much precipitation as he had
+lifted them into the trap. And, indeed, the manner of their
+departure was not much more ceremonious. Before they quite knew
+what was happening, he had hustled them into the hall; the
+hall-door was open; they were the other side of it, and Mr.
+Bankes, standing on the doorstep, was ordering them off his
+premises.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, clear out of this! The dogs will be loose in half a
+second; you'd better make tracks before they take it into their
+heads to try their teeth upon your legs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The door was shut, and they were left standing in the night,
+endeavouring to realize whether their adventure of the night
+had been actual fact, or whether they had only dreamed it.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter VI</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">AFTERWARDS</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">But Wheeler's first observation brought them back to <i>terra
+firma</i> with a plunge.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's my belief that fellow's a howling madman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They cast a look over their shoulder to see if the fellow thus
+referred to was within hearing of this courteous speech, and
+then, with one accord, they made for the entrance to Washington
+Villa, not pausing till they stood clear of its precincts on
+the road outside.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then Wheeler made another observation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is a jolly lark!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Ellis and Griffin laughed, but Bailey held his peace. A thought
+struck Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, I wonder what old Mother Fletcher'll say? She'll send
+herself into fits! Fancy its being eleven o'clock! Did you ever
+hear of such a set-out in all your lives? And I've no more idea
+of where we are than the man in the moon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know,&quot; said Bailey. He began to trudge on a few feet in
+front of them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It still rained--a steady, soaking drizzle--and a haze which
+hung about the air made the night darker than it need have
+done. Griffin and Wheeler, minus caps, were wholly at the mercy
+of the weather.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised,&quot; muttered Griffin, &quot;if I didn't
+catch a death of cold after this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And, indeed, such was a quite possible consummation of the
+evening's pleasure. The boys trudged on, following Bailey's
+lead. But Wheeler's feelings could only find relief by venting
+themselves in speech.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever hear anything like that chap? I never did, never!
+Fancy his going on with all that stuff about running away. I
+should like to catch myself at it,--running away! He's about
+the biggest liar ever I heard!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And didn't he snap me up!&quot; said Griffin. &quot;Did you ever see
+anything like it? How was I to know where the beastly place
+was? I don't believe there is such a place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's cracked!&quot; decided Ellis. Then, despite the rain, the
+young gentleman began snapping his fingers and cutting capers
+in the middle of the muddy road. &quot;He's cracked! cracked! Oh
+lor', I never had such a spree in all my life!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then the three young gentlemen put their hands to their sides
+and roared with laughter, stamping about the road to save
+themselves from choking. But Bailey trudged steadily on in
+front.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And didn't he give us a blow-out!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A shout of laughter. &quot;Ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And didn't he tell some busters!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Another chorus, as before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder if he ever did run away himself, as he said he did?&quot;
+This remark came from Ellis, and his friends checked their
+laughter to consider it. They then for the first time
+discovered that Bailey was leaving them in the rear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a nice sort of fellow,&quot; shouted Ellis after him. &quot;Let's
+catch him up! What's his little game, I wonder? Let's catch him
+up!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They scampered after him along the road, soon catching him, for
+Bertie, who was not hurrying himself, was only a few yards in
+advance. Ellis slipped his arm through his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Bailey, do you think he ever ran away from school
+himself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's it got to do with me?&quot; was Bertie's reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whatever made him go on at you like that? He must have taken
+you for a ninny to think you were going to swallow all he said!
+Fancy you running away! I think I see you at it! Running away
+to Huffham's and back is about your style. Why didn't you ask
+him for a tip? He seemed to be so uncommon fond of you that if
+I'd been you I'd have asked for one. You might have said if he
+made it large enough you'd run away; and so you might have
+done--to old Mother Huffham's and back.&quot; And Ellis nudged him
+in the side and laughed. But Bailey held his peace.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler gave the conversation a different turn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How are you fellows going to get in?&quot; He referred to their
+effecting an entrance into Mecklemburg House.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Knock at the door, of course, and pull the bell, and dance a
+break-down on the steps, and make a shindy generally, so as to
+let 'em know we've come.&quot; These suggestions came from Griffin.
+Wheeler took up the parable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And tell old Mother Fletcher to let us have something hot for
+supper, and to look alive and get it, and make it tripe and
+onions, with a glass of stout to follow. I just fancy what
+she'd say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And tell her,&quot; continued Griffin, &quot;that we've been paying a
+visit to a nice, kind gentleman, who happens to be raving mad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And she'd be pleased to hear that he advised us all to run
+away, and waste no time about it. Where did he advise us to go
+to? The land of golden dreams? Oh, my crikey, don't I see her
+face!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey made a remark of a practical kind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We can get in fast enough, there are always plenty of windows
+open.&quot; It is not impossible that the young gentleman had made
+an entrance into Mecklemburg House by some such way before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's easy enough to get in,&quot; said Ellis, &quot;but what are we to
+say in the morning? It'll take about a week to dry my things,
+and about a month to get the mud off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised if old Shane got sacked,&quot; chuckled
+Wheeler.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It will be jolly hard lines if he does,&quot; said Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, what's the odds? he shouldn't have let us go!&quot; Which
+remark of Wheeler's was pretty good, considering the
+circumstances under which Mr. Shane's permission had been
+obtained.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then Bailey stopped, and began to peer about him in the
+night.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you lost your way?&quot; asked Ellis. &quot;That'll be the best
+joke of all if you have. Fancy camping out a night like this!
+We shan't quite be drowned by the morning, but just about
+almost.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to cut across this field,&quot; said Bailey. &quot;It's ever
+so far round by the road, but we shall get there in less than
+no time if we go this way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The suggestion tickled Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fancy cutting across fields on a night like this! Oh, my
+gracious! what will old Mother Fletcher say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey climbed over a gate, and the others clambered after him.
+It might be the shortest cut, but it was emphatically the
+dirtiest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, if they haven't been ploughing it!&quot; cried Griffin, before
+they had taken half a dozen steps.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Apparently they had, and very recently too. The furrows were
+wide and deep, the soil seemed to be a stiffish clay; walking
+was exercise of the most hazardous kind. There was an
+exclamation from some one; but as it appeared that Griffin had
+only fallen forward on to his nose, his friends were too much
+occupied with their own proceedings to pay much heed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have lost my shoe!&quot; declared Wheeler, immediately after.
+&quot;Oh, I'm stuck in the mud; I believe I'm planted in this
+beastly field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind your shoe, since you've lost your hat already,&quot;
+said Ellis, with ready sympathy. &quot;You might as well leave all
+the rest of your things behind you, for all the use they'll be
+after this little spree is over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what Bailey calls a short cut,&quot; grumbled Griffin.
+&quot;At the rate I'm going it'll take me about a couple of hours to
+do a hundred yards.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We shall be home with the milk,&quot; said Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've lost my other shoe!&quot; cried Wheeler.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, have you really, though?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe I have, but I don't know whether I have or whether I
+haven't; all I know is, I've got about a hundred pounds of mud
+sticking to my feet. I wish Bailey was at Jericho with his
+short cuts!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is nicer than that old lunatic,&quot; sang out Dick Ellis.
+&quot;Don't I wish old Mother Fletcher could see us now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you call nice,&quot; said Griffin. &quot;You'd call it
+nice if you had your eyes and nose and mouth bunged up. I'm
+down again!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't pull me with you,&quot; remonstrated Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Griffin did. Feeling that he was going, he made a frantic
+clutch at Ellis, who was just in front of him, and the two
+friends embraced each other on the treacherous ground. Ellis'
+tone underwent a sudden change.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll pay you out for this!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I couldn't help it,&quot; protested Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Couldn't help it! What do you mean, you couldn't help it? Do
+you mean to say you couldn't help catching hold of me, and
+dragging me down into this beastly ditch?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It isn't a ditch; it's a furrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you call a furrow. I know I'm sopping wet,
+and where my hat's gone to I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's it matter about your hat? I've lost mine ever so long
+ago! I wish I'd stopped at home, and never bothered old Shane
+to let me out. I know whoever else calls this a spree, I don't;
+spree indeed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When they had regained their feet, and were cool enough to look
+about them, they found that the others were out of sight, and
+apparently out of hearing too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Blessed if this isn't a go! If they haven't been and gone
+and left us. Hollo!&quot; Ellis put his hand to his mouth, that his
+voice might carry further; but no answer came. &quot;Ba-a-ailey!
+Ba-a-ailey!&quot; But from Bailey came no sign. &quot;This is a pretty
+state of things! wherever have they gone? If this is a game
+they think they're having, it's the meanest thing of which I
+ever heard, and I'll be even with them, mark my words. Which
+way did they go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How should I know? I don't even know which way we came. How's
+a fellow to know anything when he can't see his hand before his
+face in a place like this? It's my belief it's one of Bailey's
+little games.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ba-a-ailey!&quot; Ellis gave another view-halloo. In vain, only
+silence answered. &quot;Well, this is a go! If it hadn't been for
+you I shouldn't have been in this hole.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I'd never bothered old Shane to let me out!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bother old Shane, and bother you too! I don't know where I am
+any more than Adam.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure I don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's no good standing here like a couple of moon-struck
+donkeys. I sink in the mud every time I put my foot to the
+ground; we shall be over head and heels by the time the morning
+comes. I'm going straight ahead; it must bring us somewhere,
+and it seems to me it don't much matter where.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Minus his hat, not improved in person by his contact with the
+ground, nor in temper by the desertion of his friends, Dick
+Ellis renewed his journeying. Griffin found some difficulty in
+keeping up with him. How many times they lost their footing
+during the next few minutes it would be bootless to recount.
+Over mud, through mire, uphill, downhill, they staggered
+wildly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder how large this field is,&quot; observed Ellis, after about
+ten minutes of this sort of work. &quot;It seems to me we've gone
+about six miles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It seems to me we've gone sixty,&quot; groaned his friend.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Talk about short cuts! Fancy bringing a fellow into the middle
+of a ploughed field on a pitch-dark, rainy night, and leaving
+him to find his way alone! I say, Ellis, supposing we lose our
+way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Supposing we lose our way!&quot; shouted Dick. &quot;I guess we've lost
+it! What an ass you are! What do you think we're doing here, if
+we haven't lost our way? Do you think I'd stop in a place like
+this if I knew a way of getting out of it?&quot; Just then he
+emphasized his remarks by sitting down in the mud, and
+remaining seated where he was. &quot;I can't get up; I believe I'm
+stuck, and here I'll stick; and in the morning they'll find me
+dead: you mark my words, and see if they don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The terror of the situation moved Griffin almost to tears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let's shout,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the good of shouting?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; said Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then what an ass you are!&quot; With difficulty Ellis staggered to
+his feet. &quot;It's my belief I've got about an acre of land
+fastened to the seat of my breeches. I should like to know how
+I'm to walk and carry that about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They staggered on. A few yards further on they heard the sound
+of wheels upon a road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's the road!&quot; cried Griffin, rapture in his voice. The
+sound gave him courage. He quickened his pace, and hastened on.
+Suddenly there was a splash, a cry of terror, then all was
+silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter?&quot; cried Ellis, startled he scarcely knew at
+what. There was no reply. &quot;Griffin, where are you? What's the
+matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a sound as of a splashing of water, and a stifled
+voice exclaimed,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Help! I am drowning! He-elp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Ellis pulled up short, and only just in time, for the ground
+seemed all at once to come to an end. He stood on the edge of a
+declivity, and in front of him was he knew not what. It was so
+dark, he could not see his hand in front of him. There was only
+the sound as of some one struggling in water, and faint cries
+for help. For an instant his legs seemed to refuse their
+office, his knees gave way from under him, and his tongue clave
+to the roof of his mouth. Then he became conscious of wheels
+moving along a road which was close at hand. The sound gave him
+courage, and he shouted with the full force of his lungs,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Help! help!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To his intense satisfaction, an immediate answer was returned.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hollo!&quot; a gruff voice replied; &quot;who's that a-calling?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I!--here!--in the field! There's some one drowning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hold hard! I'll bring you a light.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A moment's pause; then in front of him a light was seen dimly
+approaching through the night. Never before had a light been so
+heartily welcome to Master Richard Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here! Take care where you're coming; there's a pond, or
+something, just in front of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The new-comer approached, keeping a wary eye upon the ground as
+he advanced. Ellis saw it was a carter, and that he carried an
+old-fashioned round lantern in his hand, with a lighted candle
+stuck in the socket. The carter held the lantern above his
+head, standing still, and peering through the night. The man
+was visible to the boy, but the boy, shrouded in the blackness
+of the night, was invisible to the man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where are you?&quot; he asked, seeing nothing in the gloom.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind me; Griffin's drowning in a pond, or something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The splashing continued.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm drowning! He-elp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The carter stooped forward, so that the light fell on the
+ground. Then Ellis perceived that between the man and himself
+was a little pond, into which the over-anxious Griffin had
+managed to fall.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There ain't no water there,&quot; said the carter. &quot;Where are you?
+Come out of it. There ain't enough water to drown a cat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Griffin, perceiving that the fact was as the carter stated,
+proceeded to betake himself to what was, in comparison, dry
+land. But though not drowned, a more pitiable sight could
+scarcely be presented. He had fallen head-foremost into the
+filthy pool; the water was trickling down his head and face,
+and his countenance was plastered with an unsavoury coating of
+green slime.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you? a boy?&quot; inquired the carter. &quot;Well, you're a
+pretty sight, anyhow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer Griffin burst into tears. Ellis, who had by this
+time found his way round the pond, joined in the criticism of
+his friend.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I am blessed!&quot; In spite of his own plight, he was almost
+moved to mirth. &quot;Won't old Mother Fletcher take it out of you!
+I wouldn't be in your shoes for a pound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's she? and who are you?&quot; asked the carter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you ever heard of Mecklemburg House?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, the school? Be you from the school? Well, you're a
+pretty couple, the pair of you. What little game are you up to
+now--running away? Won't they lay it into you!&quot; The carter
+grinned; he was not aware that corporal punishment was
+interdicted at Mecklemburg House, and already seemed to see the
+&quot;laying in&quot; in his mind's eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We--weren't running--away!&quot; wept Griffin. &quot;We've lost our
+way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lost your way! Well, I never! That's a good one!&quot; The carter
+seemed to doubt the statement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We have lost our way,&quot; said Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here! for a couple of pins I'll take you by the scruff of
+your necks and walk you back myself, if you come any of your
+games on me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From his tone and manner the carter seemed to be indignant.
+Griffin stared--as well as he could through his tears and the
+slime--and Ellis stared, being both at a loss to understand his
+indignation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Coming with your tales to me, telling me you've lost your way,
+with the school just across the road.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His hearers stared still more.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't mean it?&quot; Ellis said. &quot;Why, if--I don't believe--why,
+if this isn't old Palmer's field, which he was only ploughing
+yesterday, and if you haven't tumbled into old Palmer's pond! Well,
+if we aren't a couple of beauties!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Griffin stared at Ellis, and the carter stared at both of them.
+The fact was beginning to dawn upon these young gentlemen, the
+startling fact, that they had been all the time in a country
+with every inch of which they were acquainted, and that it was
+only the darkness which had confused them. As the carter had
+said, Palmer's field--which was the name by which it was known
+to the boys--was right in front of Mecklemburg House, and, in
+consequence, the school, instead of being, as they supposed, a
+mile or so away, was just across the road. When they had fully
+realized this fact, the young gentlemen gave a simultaneous
+yell of satisfaction, and without wasting any time in
+compliments and thanks, dashed through the open gate, and out
+of sight, leaving the carter to the enjoyment of his own
+society.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well,&quot; was the comment of that worthy, when he perceived
+the full measure of ingratitude which was entailed by this
+unlooked-for flight, &quot;if I ever helps another being out of a
+ditch I'll let him know. Not even the price of half a pint!&quot;
+Then he shouted after them, &quot;I hope the schoolmeaster'll tan
+the hide from off you. I would if I were him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Possibly the expression of this pious wish in some degree
+relieved his feelings, for he followed the boys, though at a
+much more decorous pace, through the gate. When he reached the
+road, he stopped for a moment and looked around him, but there
+were no signs of any one in sight--the birds had flown. So,
+muttering beneath his breath what were probably not blessings,
+he returned to his charge, a huge vehicle, drawn by four
+perspiring horses, and which was loaded with market produce.
+Climbing up to his seat, he started his horses and continued
+his journey through the night. But though he was not aware of
+it, the young gentlemen who had treated him with such
+ingratitude had not come to the end of their adventure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The front gate of Mecklemburg House stood wide open, and they
+unhesitatingly dashed inside. But no sooner were they in the
+grass-grown courtyard than a thought struck Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder if Bailey and Wheeler have come back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know, and I don't care,&quot; said Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the interchange of speech brought them back to the sense of
+their situation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How are you going to get in?&quot; asked Griffin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Through the schoolroom window; it's always open,&quot; replied his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But this always was a rule liable to exceptions, for on this
+occasion the particular window referred to happened to be shut.
+However, to understand all that was to follow, it is necessary
+to bring this chapter to an end.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter VII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">THE RETURN OF THE WANDERERS</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">While Bailey and his friends were spending the evening in the
+company of Mr. George Washington Bankes, the principal of
+Mecklemburg House was in a condition in which principals are
+very seldom supposed to be, a condition very closely allied to
+tears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher was a tall, thin man, whose height was altogether
+out of proportion to his width. He was afflicted with a chronic
+stoop, and had a way, in walking, of shuffling, rather than
+stepping from foot to foot, which was scarcely dignified. His
+face was not unpleasing; there was a mildness in his eye and a
+sweetness about his infrequent smile which spoke of a gentler
+nature than the typical pedagogue is supposed to have.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Philistines were upon him now; the battle, which he had
+long been feebly eluding, rather than boldly facing, had closed
+its ranks, and in the mere preamble to the fray he had
+immediately succumbed. It would have been better, perhaps, if
+he had been made of sterner stuff, but, unless he could have
+been entirely changed into another man, sooner or later the end
+was bound to come. Mr. Fletcher was ruined, and with him
+Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was ruined too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had been on a forlorn hope to town. A certain creditor, in
+return for money advanced, held a bill of sale on all the
+contents of the academy. Necessary payments had not been made,
+and he had threatened to swoop down upon the ancient red-brick
+house, and make a clearance of every desk and stool, every pot
+and kettle, every bed and bolster the premises contained. To
+appease this personage, Mr. Fletcher had journeyed up to town,
+and had journeyed up in vain. The fiat had gone forth that
+to-morrow, the day after, any day or any hour--in the middle of
+the night, for all he knew--hard-hearted strangers might and
+would arrive, and, without asking with your leave or by your
+leave, would strip Mecklemburg House of every movable it
+contained.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was what it had come to after five-and-twenty years! When
+his father died he had been left a comfortable sum of ready
+money, untarnished credit, and a flourishing school; of all
+which nothing was left him now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The principal and his wife were seated in their own
+sitting-room, trying to look the matter boldly in the face. Mr.
+Fletcher, sitting with his elbows on the table, covered his
+face with his hands. Mrs. Fletcher, a hard-featured woman, had
+her arm about his neck, and strove to comfort him. Her ideas of
+comfort were of a material sort.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come, eat your supper, now do. You've had nothing to eat all
+day, and when you've eaten a bit things will look brighter,
+perhaps.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher turned his care-worn face up to his wife.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Jane, things will never look bright to me again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man's voice trembled, and the woman turned her face away,
+perhaps unwilling to let him see that in her eyes were tears.
+The principal got up and began to walk about the room. His
+stoop was more pronounced than usual, and his shuffling style
+of movement more ungainly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm just a failure, that's what I am, a failure. The world's
+moved on, and I've stood still. I'm exactly where my father
+was, and in schools and schoolmasters there's a difference of a
+hundred years between his time and this. I'm not fit for
+keeping school in these new times. I don't know what I am fit
+for. I'm fit for nothing but to die!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if you die, what's to become of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I live, what'll happen to you then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It'll happen to me that I'll have you, and do you think that's
+nothing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Jane, it's worse than nothing! You ought to have been the man
+instead of me. I shall be a clog to you and a burden; you're
+fit for fifty things, and I'm not fit for one! I could not make
+a decent clerk. I'm very certain I could not pass the
+examination required of a teacher in a board-school; I doubt if
+I ever could have reached that standard. I'm very certain I
+could not now. Times are changed in matters of education.
+People used to be satisfied with a twentieth part of what they
+now require. When I am turned out of the house in which I was
+born, and in which I have lived my whole life long, as I shall
+be in the course of a day or two, and you are turned out with
+me, wife, there will be fifty openings you will be fitted to
+fill, while I shall only be fit to carry circulars from house
+to house, or a sandwich-board through the streets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's no use talking in that way, Beauclerk; it only breaks my
+heart to hear you, and it does no good. We must make up our
+minds to do something at once, and the great thing is, what?
+Now come and eat your supper, or you'll be ill; you know how
+you suffer if you go hungry to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I may as well become accustomed to it, because I shall have to
+go hungry very soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Beauclerk!--what is the use of going on like that?--do you
+want to break my heart?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wife, I believe mine's broken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher leaned his face against the wall just where he was
+standing, his long, lean frame shaken with his sobbing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Beauclerk! Beauclerk! don't! don't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Hard-faced Mrs. Fletcher went to her husband, and took him in
+her arms, and soothed him as though he were a child of five.
+Mr. Fletcher looked up. His face was ghastly with the effort he
+made at self-control.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think I will have some supper; perhaps it will do me good,&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Husband and wife sat down to supper. There were the remains of
+a leg of mutton, a little glass jar half-filled with pickled
+cabbage, a small piece of cheese, and bread. Mrs. Fletcher put
+some mutton on her husband's plate, and a smaller portion on
+her own. Mr. Fletcher swallowed one or two mouthfuls, but
+apparently it went against the grain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can't eat it,&quot; he said, pushing away his plate; &quot;I'm not
+hungry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Won't you have some cheese? it's very nice cheese.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not hungry,&quot; repeated her husband.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His wife held her peace; she continued eating, not, perhaps,
+because she was hungry, but possibly because she wished, in
+doing something, to find a momentary relief from the necessity
+of thinking. Mr. Fletcher sat drawing patterns with his fork
+upon the tablecloth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall write to the parents in the morning. In fact, I ought
+to write to them to-night, but I don't feel up to it. I shall
+tell them that I am ruined, root and branch, stock and stone;
+that Mecklemburg House Collegiate School is a thing of the
+past, and that they had better remove their sons immediately,
+and let them have the means to travel with, because I have
+none.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When did Booker say he would distrain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Booker was the creditor who held the bill of sale.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He didn't specify the exact hour and minute, but it'll only be
+a question of an hour or two in any case. We can't pay and the
+things must go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But you have received money from some of the boys in advance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher got up, and began to pace the room again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have received money from most of them. Jane, what am I to
+do? As you know very well, I have received from more than half
+the boys the term's fees in advance. I am not clear that they
+could not prosecute me for obtaining money by means of false
+pretences; but, in any case, I shall feel that I have played
+the part of a dishonest man. Why didn't I say frankly at the
+beginning of the term, I am ruined, ruined hopelessly! and gone
+down at once without a pretence of struggling through another
+term?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We have struggled through so many, we could not tell we should
+not be able to struggle again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At any rate, we haven't. Before we're halfway through the term
+we're beaten, and I have received money on what was very much
+like false pretences. Then there are Mr. Till and Mr. Shane;
+they're entitled to a term's salary, if they could not lay
+claim to a term's notice too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Fletcher's face grew cold and hard, and there was an
+unpleasant glitter in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't trouble myself about them; a more helpless lout
+than Mr. Shane, as you call him, I never saw, and to my mind
+Mr. Till never has been worth his salt. This morning, when he
+was left in charge, the school was like a bear-garden; I had to
+go in half a dozen times to ask what the noise was about. It's
+my belief that if you had had proper assistance you wouldn't be
+in the state you are in now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher sighed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is not the question, my dear; I owe them the money, and
+they ought to be paid. I know that they are both almost, if not
+quite penniless, and if I do not pay them something I doubt
+whether they will have the means to take them up to town.
+Remember, too, that this is the middle of term, and that how
+long they will be without even the chance of getting another
+situation goodness only knows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And are you better off? Have you better prospect of a
+situation? Beauclerk, before you pay either of those men a
+penny you will have to speak to me; I will not be robbed by
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I would I have nothing to pay them with, so there is an end
+of it, my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know what Mr. Shane's latest performance has been?&quot;
+Struck by something in his wife's tone, Mr. Fletcher glanced at
+her with inquiry in his eyes. &quot;I have not told you yet, because
+I have been too much upset by the news which you have brought
+to tell you anything,--goodness knows we have enough of our own
+to bear without having to bear the brunt of that clown's
+blunders too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Seeing that his wife's eloquence bade fair to carry her away,
+Mr. Fletcher interposed a question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What has Mr. Shane been doing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Doing! I'll tell you what he has been doing,--and you talk of
+robbing yourself to give him money! He let four of those boys
+go out in the rain this afternoon, when I expressly told him
+not to; and it would seem as if he has let them go for good,
+for they are still out now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her husband looked at her, not quite catching the meaning of
+her words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Still out now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, still out now. Bailey, Griffin, Wheeler and Ellis went
+out this afternoon, in all the rain and fog, with Mr. Shane's
+permission; and out they've stopped, for they're not back yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not back yet! Jane, you cannot mean it. Why, it's nearly
+midnight.&quot; Mr. Fletcher looked at his venerable silver watch,
+which had come to him, with the rest of his possessions, from
+his father. &quot;What's that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Husband and wife listened. The silence which reigned without
+had been broken by a crash from the schoolroom, a crash which
+bore a strong family resemblance to the sound made by the
+upsetting of a form.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's those boys!&quot; said Mrs. Fletcher. &quot;They're getting through
+the window.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She hurried off to see, her husband following closely after.
+All the lights were out; save the sitting-room which they had
+left, all the house was dark. She called to him to bring the
+lamp. Returning, he snatched it from the table and went after
+her again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They entered the schoolroom, Mr. Fletcher acting as lamp-bearer.
+Directly the door was opened they were conscious of a strong current
+of air within the room. Mrs. Fletcher went swiftly forward, picking
+her way among the desks and forms, and the cause of the noise they
+had heard and the draught they felt was soon apparent. The furthest
+window was wide open. In front of it a form was overturned upon the
+floor, a form which some one effecting a burglarious entrance through
+the window in the dark had unwittingly turned over. The lady's quick
+eye caught sight of a figure crouching behind a neighbouring desk.
+It did not take her long to drag a young gentleman out by the collar
+of his coat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--upon--my--word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her astonishment was genuine, and excusable; few more
+disreputable figures ever greeted a lady's eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is this Bailey?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was Bailey. Perhaps at that moment Bailey rather wished it
+wasn't; but the surprise of his sudden capture had bereft him
+of the power of speech, and he was unable to deny his identity.
+The lady did nothing else but stare. Suddenly somebody else
+made his appearance at the window, a head rose above the
+window-sill, and a meek, modest voice inquired,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Please, ma'am, may I come in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The new-comer was Edward Wheeler. The lady's astonishment
+redoubled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--I--never!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Taking this exclamation to convey permission, Wheeler gradually
+raised himself the necessary height, and finally, after a few
+convulsive plunges to prevent himself from slipping back again,
+scrambled through the window and stood upon the floor. Wheeler
+presented a companion picture to his friend. As he had lost his
+hat at an early hour of the evening, he, perhaps, in some
+slight details, bore away the palm from Bailey. Mrs. Fletcher
+stared at them both in blank amazement; in all her experience
+of boys she never had seen anything quite equal to these two.
+Mr. Fletcher, lamp in hand, came up to join in the inspection.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where have you boys been?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Out to tea,&quot; said Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Fletcher sniffed disdainfully.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Out to tea! Don't tell me that! I should think you've been out
+to tea in a ditch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Fletcher carried on the examination.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How dare you tell me you've been to tea! Where have you boys
+been?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We have been out to tea,&quot; said Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And where, sir, have you been having tea, that you come back
+at this hour, and in such a plight as that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Washington Villa,&quot; answered Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Washington Villa! And where's Washington Villa? But never mind
+that, I shall have something to say to you in the morning.
+Where are those other boys? Where are Griffin and Ellis?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They're coming,&quot; muttered Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then they came. While Mr. Fletcher hesitated, in doubt
+what to do or say, a voice, unmistakably Ellis', was heard
+without.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that you, Bailey? Won't I pay you out for this, you cad! We
+might have got drowned for all you cared. Here's Griffin got
+half-drowned as it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thrusting her head out of the window, Mrs. Fletcher replied to
+the wanderer; a reply, doubtless, as unexpected as undesired.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If Mr. Fletcher did as I wished him, he'd give each of you
+boys a good round flogging before you went to bed, a lot of
+disobedient, ungrateful, untruthful, and untrustworthy scamps!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Possibly this was enough for Ellis, for he subsided and was
+heard no more, but a sound of weeping arose. It was the grief
+of Charlie Griffin. Placing the lamp upon a desk, Mr. Fletcher
+put his head out of the window beside his wife's.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not going to open the hall door for you at this time of
+night. Your friends came through the window, and you can follow
+your friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They followed their friends, Ellis coming first; Griffin, with
+not unnatural bashfulness, preferring to keep in the
+background. Mrs. Fletcher's uplifted hands and cry of
+astonishment greeted Ellis, who was indeed a notable example of
+the possibilities of dirt as applied to the person, but
+Griffin's entry was followed by the silence of petrified
+amazement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His friends' attempts at disfigurement were altogether
+unsuccessful as compared to the success which had attended his.
+They were dandies compared to him. It was difficult at a first
+glance to realize that he was a boy, or indeed a human being of
+any kind. He was covered with a combination of weeds, green
+slime, particoloured filth, and yellow clay; the water dripped
+from the more prominent portions of his frame; his clothes were
+glued to his limbs; he was hatless; his face and hair were
+plastered with the aforesaid slime; and, to crown it all, he
+was convulsed with a sorrow which lay too deep for words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Griffin!&quot; was all that the headmaster's wife could gasp.
+&quot;Charlie Griffin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where have you been?&quot; asked Mr. Fletcher.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been in the pond,&quot; gasped Griffin, half choked with mud
+and tears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In the pond? What pond?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pa-almer's po-ond!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Palmer's pond! What were you doing in there? What I'm to do
+with you boys is more than I can say!&quot; Mr. Fletcher sighed.
+&quot;There's one thing, I shan't have to do with you much longer.&quot;
+This was muttered half beneath his breath. &quot;What are we to do
+with them, my dear?&quot; This was a question to his wife.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't ask me; I don't know what we're to do with them. I
+should think that boy&quot;--here she pointed an accusatory finger
+at Griffin--&quot;had better go back to Palmer's pond. He appears to
+be fond of it, and it's the only place he's fit for.&quot; Griffin
+was moved to wilder tears. &quot;He had better take his things off
+where he stands, and throw them out into the yard; they'll
+never be good for anything again, and he shan't go upstairs
+with them on. And all four of them&quot;--this with sudden vivacity
+which turned attention away from Griffin--&quot;must have a bath
+before they think of going to bed between my sheets. A pretty
+state of things to have to get baths ready at this time of
+night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Griffin, you had better take off your things,&quot; said Mr.
+Fletcher mildly, when his wife had finished. &quot;I don't know what
+your father will say when he hears of the way in which you
+treat your clothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Fletcher returned to her sitting-room, and Griffin unrobed
+himself, flinging each separate article of clothing into the
+yard as he took it off. Then a procession, headed by Mr.
+Fletcher, started for the bath-room. After a few moments'
+contact with clean, cold water, the young gentlemen, presenting
+a more respectable appearance, were escorted to their bedroom,
+Mr. Fletcher remaining while they put themselves to bed. Having
+assured himself that they actually were between the sheets, &quot;I
+will speak to you in the morning,&quot; he said, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the boys had satisfied themselves that he was out of
+hearing, their tongues began to wag. Griffin was still
+whimpering.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's all through you, Bailey, I got into this row.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Something suspiciously like a chuckle was the only answer which
+came from Bailey's bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, did you really tumble into Palmer's pond?&quot; inquired
+Wheeler.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course I did! How could I help it when you couldn't see
+your hand before your face?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler buried himself in the bedclothes and roared with
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't have laughed if it had been you,&quot; continued the
+outraged Griffin. &quot;I was as nearly drowned as anything. I
+should have been if it hadn't been for a fellow with a
+lantern.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go away! drowned!&quot; scoffed Bailey, unconsciously repeating the
+carter's words; &quot;why, there isn't enough water to drown a cat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did you go and leave us for like that?&quot; asked Ellis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I was going to mess about in the rain all night
+while you two were squabbling on top of each other in the mud?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I call it a mean thing to do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who cares what you call it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if it weren't so jolly late, I'd give you something for
+yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, would you? You'd give me something for myself! I like
+that! You wait till the morning, and then perhaps I'll give you
+something for yourself instead!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Unconscious of the compliments which his affectionate pupils
+were bandying from one to the other, Mr. Fletcher returned to
+his wife, seated in the parlour. His whole air was one of
+depression, as of one who had no longer spirit enough to fight
+with fortune.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, it will be over to-morrow!&quot; he said. &quot;I don't think I'm
+much good at school-keeping; I'm not strong enough; I'm not
+sufficiently able to impress my influence on others.&quot; Going to
+the mantelshelf he leaned his head upon his hand. &quot;I suspect
+I've failed as a schoolmaster because I deserved to fail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, forgetting the heroes of the night, his wife began to
+comfort him.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter VIII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">PREPARING FOR FLIGHT</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">That night Bertie Bailey dreamed a dream. In fact, he dreamed
+several dreams; his slumber-time was passed in dreamland,
+journeying from dream to dream.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He dreamed of the Land of Golden Dreams; of Mr. Bankes and
+Washington Villa; of a boy traversing a road which ran right
+around the world; of tumbling into ponds and scrambling out of
+them; of some mysterious country, peopled by a race of giants,
+to which there came a boy, who, single-handed, brought them
+low, and claimed the country for his own, and the soil of that
+land consisted of gold and silver, with judicious variations of
+precious stones. In his dreams he saw weapons flashing in the
+air, and he heard the sound of strange instruments of music.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just before he woke he dreamed the most vivid dream of all. A
+moment before all had been a chaos of bewilderment, but all at
+once he found himself alone, in the centre of some wild place,
+not quite sure what sort of place it was, nor where, nor of
+anything about it, but he knew that it was wild. A voice was
+heard in the air, and he knew that it was the voice of Mr.
+George Washington Bankes. The voice kept repeating, &quot;A life of
+adventure's the life for me!&quot; and every time the words were
+uttered the boy's heart leapt up within him, and he went
+bounding on. The one voice became several, the world was full
+of voices, yet he knew that they all belonged to the original
+Mr. George Washington Bankes; and over and over again they
+repeated the same refrain, &quot;A life of adventure's the life for
+me!&quot; till the whole world was alive with it, and birds and
+beasts and sticks and stones caught up the same refrain, &quot;A
+life of adventure's the life for me!&quot; and the boy's heart was
+filled with a great and wondrous exultation. But all at once
+the voices ceased; all was still; and the boy found that he was
+standing in front of a mighty mountain, which filled the world
+with darkness, and barred the way in front of him. And he was
+beginning to be afraid, when out of the silence and the
+darkness came, in a still small whisper--which he knew to be
+the whisper of Mr. George Washington Bankes--the words, &quot;A life
+of adventure's the life for me!&quot; and they put courage into his
+heart, and he stretched out his arm and touched the mountain,
+and, behold! at his touch it was cleft asunder, and in its
+bosom were all the treasures of the earth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But it was unfortunately at this point that he awoke. It was
+not unnatural that for some moments he should have refused to
+have acknowledged the fact--to confess that he really was
+awake, and that it had been nothing but a dream.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was broad daylight. The sun was peeping through the windows,
+along the edges of the ill-fitting blinds. It was nothing but a
+dream. As he began to realize the fact of the gleaming
+sunshine, even he was obliged to admit that it had been nothing
+but a dream. He turned in his bed with a dissatisfied grunt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never dreamed anything like that before, nothing half so
+real! It seemed as if I had only to put out my hand to touch
+that mountain now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But it only seemed, for there was no mountain there, only a
+coverlet, and a sheet, and a blanket or two, and a bolster, and
+a mattress, and a bed. Bertie lay on his back, with his eyes
+closed, attempting, by an effort of his will, to bring back the
+vanished dream. And to some extent he succeeded, for as he lay
+quiescent he seemed to hear, ringing in his ears, the words he
+had heard in his dream--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A life of adventure's the life for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He seemed so certainly to hear them that, just as they had done
+in his dream, they filled him with a sudden fire. Thoroughly
+aroused, he sat up in bed, grasping the bedclothes with eager
+hands. And to himself he said, half beneath his breath, &quot;A life
+of adventure's the life for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other boys were still asleep in the little iron bedsteads
+on either side of him, but he made no attempt to recompose
+himself to slumber. He remained sitting up in bed, his knees
+huddled up to his chin, engaged in a very unwonted act for him,
+the act of thinking.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The events of the night before were vividly before him, but
+principally among them, a giant in the foreground, was the
+figure of Mr. George Washington Bankes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you run away?&quot; Mr. Bankes' question rang in his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A life of adventure's the life for me!&quot; Those other words of
+Mr. Bankes, which had been with him through the dream-haunted
+night, still danced before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Than Bertie Bailey a less romantic-looking youth one could
+scarce conceive. But history tells us that some of the greatest
+heroes of romance, real, live, flesh-and-blood heroes, who
+actually at some time or other did exist, were anything but
+romantic in their persons. Perhaps Bailey was one of these.
+Anyhow, stowed away in some out-of-the-way corner of his
+unromantic-looking person was a vein of romance of the most
+pronounced and unequivocal kind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His range of reading was not wide, yet he had his heroes of
+fiction none the less. They were rather a motley crew, and
+if he had been asked the question, say in an examination paper,
+&quot;Who is your favourite hero? give a short sketch of his life,&quot;
+he would have hesitated once or twice before he would have
+written Dick Turpin, Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, or Jack the
+Giant-Killer. Perhaps he would have hesitated still longer
+before he had attempted to sketch the life of any one of them.
+Yet, had he told the truth, the gentleman selected would have
+been one of these.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Possibly in the act of selection his greatest difficulty would
+have lain. He never could quite make up his mind which of the
+four gentlemen named above he liked the best. There were points
+about Dick Turpin which struck his fancy. He would rather have
+ridden that ride to York than have had ten thousand pounds. It
+would have been worth his while to have been Dick Turpin if
+only to possess that horse of horses, Black Bess, the coal-black
+steed of his heart's desire, though it may be mentioned in passing
+that up to the present moment Bertie Bailey had never figured upon
+a horse's back. He had once ridden a donkey from Ramsgate to
+Pegwell Bay, but a donkey was not Black Bess.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the other hand, there was no part of England with which he was
+better acquainted--theoretically--than the glades of Sherwood Forest.
+To have lived in those glades with Robin Hood, Bailey would heave
+a great sigh at the prospect; ah, that he only could! Yet certainly
+one had only to speak of the desert island, and of Robinson Crusoe
+on its lonely shore, for Bertie to feel a wild longing to plough
+the distant main, a longing which was scarcely consistent with his
+desire for the glades of Sherwood Forest. It is the fashion to sneer
+at fairy tales, and to speak of them as though they were beneath the
+supposititious dignity of the common noun boy, and certainly the
+marvellous history and adventures of Jack the Giant-Killer belong to
+the domain of the fairies. Possibly Bertie would have been himself
+ashamed to own his partiality for that hero of the nursery; and
+yet, to have had Jack's courage and strength and skill, to have
+slaughtered giants and taken castles and rescued maidens--Bertie
+sometimes dreamt of himself as another Jack, and then always with
+a rapture too deep for words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Perhaps his real, ideal, and favourite hero would have
+consisted of a judicious combination of the four--something of
+Dick Turpin, and something of Robin Hood, and something of
+Robinson Crusoe, and something of Jack the Giant-Killer. Take
+all these somethings and mix them well together, and you would
+have had the man for Bailey. Emphatically, although almost
+unconsciously, in all his waking dreams, a life of adventure
+had been the life for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. George Washington Bankes had applied the match to the
+powder. As he thought of all that gentleman had said, even in
+the cool of the morning, all his soul was on fire. Seeing him
+in his nightshirt of doubtful cleanliness, and with his touzled
+hair, you might not have supposed that there was fire in his
+soul, but there was. Run away! He had heard of boys running
+away from school before to-day.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Boys had run away from Mecklemburg House, and there were
+stories of one who, within quite recent times, had made a dash
+for liberty. Some said he had got as far as Windsor, some said
+Dorking, before he had changed his mind and decided to come
+back again. But he had come back again. Bailey made up his mind
+that when he ran away he would never come back again; never!
+or, at any rate, not till he had traversed the world in several
+different directions, as Mr. George Washington Bankes had done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It had already become a question of <i>when</i> he ran away. With
+that quickness in arriving at a decision which, so some tell
+us, is the sure sign of a commanding intellect, he had already
+decided that he would; there only remained the question of time
+and opportunity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you run away?&quot; Mr. Bankes had asked. Yes, why,
+indeed? especially if one had only to run away to step at once
+into the Land of Golden Dreams!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the boys took their places in the schoolroom after breakfast,
+prepared for morning school, a startling announcement was made to
+them by Mr. Fletcher. Bailey and his friends had expected that
+something would be said to them on the subject of their escapade
+of the night before; but so far, so far as those in authority were
+concerned, their expectations had been disappointed. They had been
+sufficiently cross-examined by their fellow-pupils, and in spite of
+a slight suggestive foreboding of something unpleasant to come,
+when they perceived how their proceedings appeared in the eyes of
+their colleagues, they were almost inclined to look upon themselves
+somewhat in the light of heroes. Griffin, indeed, had not heard the
+last of the pond, and it was not of the tragic side of his
+misadventure that he heard the most. There were some disagreeable
+remarks made by personal friends who would not see that he had run
+imminent risk of being drowned. He almost began to wish that he had
+been.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't have laughed at it then,&quot; he said. But they laughed
+at it now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But neither from Mr. Till, nor from Mr. Shane, nor from Mr.
+Fletcher, nor from the far more terrible Mrs. Fletcher, had
+either of the young gentlemen heard a word.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And just when they were preparing for morning school Mr.
+Fletcher made his startling announcement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At first the quartett thought, not unreasonably, that his
+remarks were going to have particular reference to them and to
+their misdoings, but they were wrong. The headmaster was seated
+at his desk, in a seemingly more than usually preoccupied mood;
+but he too often was preoccupied in school, so they paid no
+heed, and got out their books and slates, and other implements
+of study, with the ordinary din and clatter. Suddenly he spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Boys, I want to speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boys looked at him, and the quartett looked at each other.
+Mr. Fletcher did not raise his head, but with his eyes fixed on
+the desk in front of him continued to speak as though he found
+considerable difficulty in saying what he had to say.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have had heavy losses lately in carrying on the school. Some
+of you know that the number of boys has grown smaller by
+degrees and beautifully less.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a faint smile about Mr. Fletcher's mouth which did
+not quite betoken mirth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I do not complain. I should not have mentioned it,
+only&quot;--he paused, raised his head, and looked round the room,
+his eyes resting for a moment on each of the boys as they
+passed--&quot;only when one has no boys one can keep no school. I
+have found, very certainly, that without boys school cannot
+keep me--my wife and I. Our wants are not large--they have
+grown even smaller of recent years--but to satisfy the most
+modest wants something is required, and we have nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again he paused, and again something like the ghost of a smile
+flitted across his face. By this time the boys were listening
+with their eyes and ears, and Mr. Shane and Mr. Till listened
+with the rest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am a ruined schoolmaster. I should not have told you this--it is
+not a pleasant thing to have to tell--only my ruin is so complete,
+and so near. It will necessitate your returning home at once.
+Mecklemburg House will no longer be able to offer shelter to either
+you or I, and I--I was born here; you will perhaps be able to go
+with lighter hearts. I have communicated with your parents. You must
+pack your things at once; some of you will, perhaps, be fetched in
+an hour or two. I have advised your parents that you had better be
+all of you removed by to-morrow morning at the latest. Under these
+circumstances there will, of course, be no morning school; nor,
+indeed, in Mecklemburg House any more school at any time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Perhaps, in that schoolroom, the silence had never been so
+marked as it was when Mr. Fletcher ceased. The boys looked at
+each other, and at their master, scarcely understanding what it
+was that he had said, and by no means certain that they were
+entitled to believe their ears. No morning school! Mecklemburg
+House ceased to exist! Pack up! Going home at once! These
+things were marvellous in their eyes. There were those among
+them who had not failed to see the way in which things were
+tending, who knew that Mecklemburg House was very far from
+being what it was, that the glory was departed; but for such a
+thunderclap as this they were wholly unprepared. Pack up! Going
+home at once! The boys could do nothing else but stare.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will disperse now, and go into the playground. Put your
+books away quietly You will be called in as you are wanted to
+assist in packing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They put their books away. It was unnecessary to bid them do it
+quietly; their demeanour had never been so decorous. Then they
+filed out silently, one after the other, and the headmaster and
+his ushers were left alone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One boy there was who walked out of that schoolroom as though
+he were walking in a dream. This was Bailey. It was all
+wonderful to him. He was watching for an opportunity to fly--he
+knew not why, he knew not where; but that is by the way. He had
+only begun to watch an hour or two ago, and here was the
+opportunity thrust into his hand. He never doubted for an
+instant that here was the opportunity thrust into his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was now or never. He had reasons of his own for knowing that
+when he had left Mecklemburg House he had left boarding-school
+for ever. He might have a term or two at a day-school, but what
+was the use of running away from a school of that description?
+It was heroic to run away from boarding-school, but from
+day-school--where was the heroic quantity in that? No, it was
+now or never, and Bertie Bailey resolved it should be now. So
+in a secluded corner of the playground he matured his
+adventurous scheme; for even he was not prepared to rush
+through the playground gate and dash into the world upon the
+spot.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I must get some money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So much he decided. It may be mentioned that he arrived at this
+decision first of all. It may be added that his consciousness
+of the desirability of getting money was not lessened by the
+fact that he possessed none now; no, not so much as a specimen
+of the smallest copper coinage of the realm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I must try to borrow some from some of the chaps.&quot; He was
+aware that this was not a hopeful field. &quot;But a fellow can't
+go without any money at all; even Mr. Bankes said he had
+ninepence-halfpenny.&quot; He remembered every word which Mr. Bankes
+had said. &quot;Wheeler had sevenpence, and he promised to lend me
+twopence, but he's such a selfish beast I shouldn't be
+surprised if he's changed his mind. Besides, I ought to have
+more than twopence, or sevenpence, either. Perhaps he might
+lend me the lot; he's not a bad sort sometimes. Anyhow, I'll
+try.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He tried. Slipping his arm through Wheeler's he drew him on one
+side. He approached the matter diplomatically.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Wheeler, I know you're a trump.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This sort of diplomacy was a mistake; Wheeler was at once on
+the alert.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you buttering me up for? Don't you think you're going
+to get anything out of me, because you just aren't; so now you
+know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was abrupt, not to say a little brutal, perhaps. Bailey
+perceived the error he had made; he changed his tone with
+singular presence of mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, Wheeler, I want you to lend me that sevenpence of
+yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then you'll have to want; I like your cheek!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lend me sixpence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't lend you a sight of a farthing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You promised to lend me twopence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, did I? Then I won't. I'm going to buy sevenpenn'orth of
+cocoanut candy, and perhaps I'll give you a bit of that, though
+I don't promise, mind; and it'll only be a little bit, anyhow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But look here, I want it for something--I do, I really do, or
+else I wouldn't ask you for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you want it for?&quot; asked Wheeler, struck by something
+in the other's tone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! for something particular.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you want it for? If you tell me, perhaps I'll lend
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was a bait; but Bailey did not trust his friend so
+completely as he might have done. He suspected that if he told
+him what it really was wanted for, the story might be all over
+the playground in a minute; and it was possible that his
+friends might not view his intended flight from the heroic
+point of view from which it appeared to him. So he temporized.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you'll lend me the sevenpence first, I'll tell you
+afterwards.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You catch me at it! What do I want to know what you want it
+for? I know I want it myself, and that's quite enough for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler turned away; Bailey caught him by the arm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lend me the twopence which you promised.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't lend you a brass farthing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie felt the moment was not propitious. It occurred to him
+that he might pick a quarrel with his friend and fight him, and
+that when he had fought him long enough his friend might see
+things in a different light, and a loan might be arranged. But
+of this he was by no means certain. He was not clear in his own
+mind as to the amount of hammering which would be required to
+bring about a conversion. He had never measured his strength
+with Wheeler; and it even occurred to him that he might be the
+hammered one, and not his friend. On the whole, he thought that
+he had better leave that scheme untried; sevenpence might be
+bought too dearly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Baffled in one quarter he tried another. In quest of money he
+buttonholed all the school. But this, again, was a mistaken
+step. It soon got about that Bailey was in search of some one
+to devour, and, in consequence, those who were worth devouring
+took the hint--they by no means showed themselves anxious to be
+devoured. In spite of his repeated efforts, he only met with
+one success, and that was one of which he was scarcely entitled
+to be proud.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Willie Seymour, Bailey's cousin, has been already mentioned. He
+was the youngster who led Mr. Shane's German grammar on its
+final road to ruin. A little pale-faced boy, certainly not more
+than nine years old, and without even the strength of his
+years.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie caught him by the jacket.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, where's that money of yours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His temper was not improved by the want of confidence his
+friends had shown, and this was not a case in which he thought
+delicacy was required.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What money? Bertie, don't! you're hurting my arm!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, and I'll hurt it, too! Where's that money of yours? I
+know you've got some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've only got one and fivepence. Mamma sent it me last week to
+buy a birthday present. It was my birthday, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, was it! Then I'll buy you a birthday present--something
+spiffing. Fork it up!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, Bertie----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fork it up!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's in my desk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then just you let me see your desk. It's never safe to leave
+money in your desk; it might get stolen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Bailey dragged his relative indoors. It may be mentioned
+that Willie's mother (Bertie's aunt) had particularly commended
+her lad to Bertie's care. This was the first symptom of a
+careful disposition he had shown.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter IX</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">THE START</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">With tears and sighs Willie Seymour produced his desk for his
+relative's inspection. It was a little rosewood desk which his
+mother had given him to keep his papers in, and envelopes, and
+his own particular pens, and his stamps, and his money, and his
+treasures. Bailey proceeded to inspect it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where's the key?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't take the money, Bertie. Mamma sent it me to buy a
+birthday present with, and I've spent sevenpence already. It
+was two shillings she sent.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you've spent sevenpence, have you! Then I've half a mind
+to give you a licking for spending such a lot. Do you think
+your mother sent you money to chuck about all over the place?
+She told me to look after you, and so I will. Give me the key.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends, which bulged
+out the pockets of his knickerbockers, the key was produced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't take the money, Bertie!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey unlocked the desk with a magisterial air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If your mother knew that you'd spent sevenpence, what d'ye
+think she'd say to me? She'd say, 'I told you to look after
+him, and here you let him go chucking the money I sent him to
+buy a birthday present into his stomach, and making himself as
+ill as I don't know what! Is that the way to buy a birthday
+present? Nice affectionate lad you are!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At this point Bailey, having discovered the one and fivepence,
+held it in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall put this money into my pockets, and I shall take care
+of it for you, and when you want it, you come to me and ask for
+it. D'ye hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At this point he slipped the money into his trousers pocket.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Willie wept.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you snivelling for? If you don't stop I'll take care
+of your desk as well. Now I think of it, Wheeler wants just
+such a desk as this. I shouldn't be surprised if he gave me
+sevenpence for it; it would just come in handy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey subjected the desk to a critical examination.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell Mr. Fletcher if you take my desk away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, sneak, would you? As it happens, I don't care for you or
+Mr. Fletcher either.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie tucked the desk under his arm and moved to the door.
+Willie flung his head upon his arms and burst into a passion of
+tears. At the door Bertie turned and surveyed the child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here, take your desk. Think I want the thing!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He flung the desk towards his cousin. Falling on the edge of a
+form, it burst open, and the contents were thrown out of it.
+Leaving Willie to make the best of a bad case, and pick up his
+ill-used property, Bertie marched away with the one and
+fivepence in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That one and fivepence was all the cash he could secure. He
+made one or two efforts in the course of the day to increase
+his capital by the addition of a penny or two, but the efforts
+were in vain. None of the smaller boys had any money; some of
+the seniors he suspected were in possession of funds, but in
+face of their refusal to oblige him with a temporary loan he
+did not feel justified in taking them by the throats and
+putting into practice any theory of their money or their life.
+He suspected he might get neither; sundry knocks and bruises he
+might be the richer for, but they were riches for which he had
+no longing. One particularly gallant attack he made upon a
+suspected seat of capital does not deserve to go unchronicled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The suspected seat of capital was Mr. Shane. Chancing to pass
+the schoolroom on his way downstairs, a glimpse he caught of
+some one within brought him to a standstill. He entered; he
+shut the door behind him for precaution's sake, being unwilling
+that his friends should intrude upon what he perceived might be
+a delicate interview.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In a corner of the schoolroom was Mr. Shane. He sat with his
+elbows resting on the desk and his head resting on his hands.
+So absorbed was he in his own meditations that he paid no heed
+to Bailey's entrance. Bertie watched him in silence for a
+moment or two, then he made his presence known.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Mr. Shane.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane started and looked up. His face was very pale, there
+were traces of what were suspiciously like tears about his
+eyes, and his whole appearance was as of one who had received a
+sudden blow. Without speaking he stared at Bailey, whose
+presence evidently took him by surprise. Seeing that the other
+held his peace, Bertie came to the point.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can you lend me a shilling or two?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lend you a shilling or two!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I daresay you'll think it like my cheek to ask you, and so it
+is; but--I'm in an awful hole, I really am. I know I've not
+been such a civil beggar as I might have been, but--I never
+meant any harm; and--I'm sorry about that grammar, I really
+am; I'd buy you another if I'd got the money, upon my word I
+would--I don't know what I wouldn't do for you if you'd lend me
+a shilling or two--especially if you'd make it three.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In spite of himself Bertie grinned, and his eyes glistened at
+the idea of spoiling the usher. Mr. Shane stared at him, as
+well he might. He spoke with a sort of little pause between
+each word, as though he were doubtful if he had heard aright.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You want me to lend you a shilling or two?--me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. I'll let you have it back as soon as, I can, and I'm in
+an awful hole, or I wouldn't ask you. Do lend it me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane stood up, with a curious agitation in his air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't got it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not got it I Not got a shilling or two! Oh, I say, come!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't got a penny in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not got a penny in the world! Oh, I say, aren't you piling it
+on!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not a penny; not a penny in the world; not one. I'm a beggar!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane's agitation was so curious, and the air with which he
+proclaimed himself a beggar was so wild, that Bertie's surprise
+grew apace. He wondered whether, as he might himself have
+phrased it, the usher had a tile loose in his head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;See!&quot; Mr. Shane turned his coat-tail pockets inside out. There
+was nothing in them. &quot;See!&quot; He followed suit with the pockets
+in his trousers. They also were void and empty. &quot;Nothing!
+nothing! not a sou! Mr. Fletcher engaged to pay me sixteen
+pounds a year. There's fifteen shillings owing from last term.
+I couldn't afford to buy myself a pair of boots when I came
+back. Look at my boots.&quot; Mr. Shane held up his boots, one after
+the other. Bertie stared at them; they were very much the worse
+for wear. &quot;And now he tells me that I'm to leave this very day,
+leave in the very middle of the term, without a penny-piece. He
+says he cannot let me have a penny-piece. I've worked hard for
+my money; he knows I've worked hard for my money; he knows I've
+been cruelly used; and yet he sends me away in the middle of
+the term a beggar, and with fifteen shillings owing from last
+term. What am I to do! My mother lives at Braintree. I can't
+walk all the way to Braintree in Essex, especially in such
+boots as these; and she hasn't any money to give me when I get
+there, and I can't get another situation in the middle of the
+term. It's cruel, cruel, cruel! I'm a beggar, and I shall have
+to go to the workhouse and sleep in the casual ward, and break
+stones before they let me leave in the morning. It's wicked
+cruelty! I don't care who hears me say it, so it is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Shane's agitation, though real enough, was also
+sufficiently grotesque. With his pockets turned inside out, and
+his collar and necktie all awry, he paced about the schoolroom,
+swinging his arms, speaking in his thin, cracked tones, the
+tears running down his cheeks, half choked with passion. It was
+the grotesque side of the usher's woe which appealed to Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't mean to say Mr. Fletcher won't pay you your wages?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do, I do! He says he hasn't got it; he says he doubts if he
+has five shillings to call his own. What right has he to engage
+an usher if he has not got five shillings of his own? How does
+he expect to pay me, and fifteen shillings owing from last
+term? How am I to walk to Braintree in Essex in these boots
+without a penny in my pocket? and what will my mother say when
+I get home--if I ever do get home--with no money in my pocket,
+and turned out of a situation in the middle of a term? It's a
+cruel, wicked shame, and I'll shout it out in the middle of the
+road! I don't care what they say, I will! I won't go without my
+money, if it's only the fifteen shillings left owing from last
+term!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then I suppose you can't lend me a shilling or two?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lend you a shilling or two! How can I? It's for you to advance
+a loan to me. Bailey, you've been a wicked boy to me ever since
+I came, and now to come and ask me to lend you money! You're
+all wicked about the place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got one and fivepence.&quot; Bailey held the money in his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One and fivepence! Bailey, it's your duty to lend me that one
+and fivepence. You can't want money, your parents will send you
+the means to take you home. And here am I without a penny. How
+am I to walk all the way to Braintree in Essex in these boots
+without a penny in my pocket? It is a wicked thing that I
+should ever have been induced to accept such a situation. It's
+your duty to make amends for your uniform bad conduct, and to
+sympathise with me in my distress. You ought to lend me that
+one and fivepence. Won't you lend it to me, Bailey?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie went through the familiar pantomime of putting his
+fingers to his nose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Me lend you one and fivepence--ax your grandmother! You must
+think me jolly green.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He thrust the hand which still held the one and fivepence into
+his trousers pocket, and turning on his heel marched with an
+air of great deliberation to the door. At the door he turned,
+and again addressed the usher.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I were you, old Shane, I'd go to Fletcher, and I'd say,
+'Fork up, Fletcher, or I'll give you one in the eye;' and then
+if he didn't fork up I'd give him a couple of good fine black
+ones. He'd look nice with a couple of black eyes, would
+Fletcher; and, if you like, I'll come with you now and see you
+do it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He paused; but seeing that Mr. Shane gave no immediate signs of
+acting on this useful hint he went on,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You haven't got the spirit of an old dead donkey. You'd let
+anybody have a kick at you. You're a regular all-round Molly,
+Shane.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With this frank expression of heart-felt sympathy for Mr.
+Shane's distress he left the room, and banged the door behind
+him. His enterprise, though displaying boldness, had been a
+failure; he had not succeeded in adding to his capital. As he
+walked away from the schoolroom he meditated upon the matter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One and fivepence isn't much--not to run away with--but Mr.
+Bankes said he'd only ninepence-halfpenny; I'm better than
+that. Still, I'd like another shilling or two; one and
+fivepence doesn't go far, stretch it how you will. But if I
+can't get more I'll make it do, somehow. If Mr. Bankes managed
+with ninepence-halfpenny I don't see why I shouldn't do with
+one and fivepence. Something is sure to turn up directly I am
+off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It occurred to him that perhaps Mr. Bankes might have had
+something else besides his ninepence-halfpenny--something in
+the shape of food, valuables, or extra clothing, or some other
+unconsidered trifle of that kind. Bertie perceived that if he
+put into execution his plan of immediate flight he would have
+to go as he was, with his one and fivepence and nothing else.
+He had a misty recollection of having read somewhere of a young
+gentleman, just such another hero as himself, who started on
+his exploration of the world with baggage in the shape of a red
+cotton handkerchief, which contained a clean shirt, some bread
+and cheese, and, if his memory served him, a pair of socks
+which his little sister had neatly darned for him on the night
+before his setting out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie would have to start without even this amount of luggage.
+Nor could he understand that he would be much worse off on that
+account; the bread and cheese might be useful--if he remembered
+rightly, the young gentleman referred to had eaten his bread
+and cheese about ten minutes after starting--but for the shirt
+and socks he could perceive no use whatever. He had a sort of
+idea that either those sort of things would not be required, or
+else that they could be had for asking when he was once out in
+the world.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But his chief fear was, and it kept him on tenter hooks
+throughout the day, that his grand exploit would be nipped in
+the bud, altogether frustrated, by his being prematurely
+fetched home. He lived at Upton, a little town in Berkshire,
+not twenty miles away. It would not take long for Mr.
+Fletcher's communication to reach his home, and it was quite
+within the range of possibility that a messenger would be
+immediately despatched to fetch him. In that case he would
+sleep that night in a paternal bed, and farewell to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The flitting had already commenced. By the afternoon some of
+the boys, who lived close by, had already gone. The packing
+progressed briskly. He had seen with his own eyes his boxes
+locked and corded. It was with very mixed sensations that he
+had himself assisted at the process. Within those well-worn
+receptacles was he locking and cording the Land of Golden
+Dreams! At the mere thought of such a thing he could have shed
+unheroic tears. At any moment he might be called, he might be
+greeted by a familiar face, he might be whirled away in a cab
+at the rate of four or five miles an hour, with his luggage on
+the roof of the vehicle, and then--farewell to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He might have put an end to his uncertainty by starting at once
+on his progress through the world. But he had made up his mind
+that that was not the thing. To run away in broad daylight,
+like an urchin who had stolen a twopenny loaf, with half a
+dozen yelping curs at his heels and not impossibly the country
+folks all grinning--who could connect romance with such an
+undignified departure? No, night was the thing for him--silent,
+mysterious night; and, above all, the witching hour. That was
+the time for romance! Under the cold white moon, and across the
+moonlit meadows, when all the world was sleeping--then he could
+conceive a flight into the world of mystery and of magic, and
+of Lands of Golden Dreams. So he had decided that as nearly as
+possible midnight should be the moment for his adventures to
+begin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The choice of such an hour put difficulties in his way. First
+of all, there was the difficulty of being sure of the time. He
+did not himself possess a watch, and he could not rely upon
+some distant church clock informing him of the passage of the
+night. Fortunately he remembered that Tom Graham, who slept in
+a bed next door but one to his, possessed a watch. He would
+time his departure by Tom Graham's watch. Then there was the
+difficulty of egress--how was he to get away? In his strong
+desire to play the more heroic part, he would have liked to
+have dropped from the window of his bedroom some thirty-five
+feet on to the paving-stones of the courtyard below. But then
+he reflected that he would not improbably break his neck, and
+it would be just as well not to begin his adventures by doing
+that; that sort of thing would come in its proper place a
+little later on. He might knot his sheets together, and form an
+impromptu rope, and descend by means of that: there were charms
+about the idea which commended themselves to him. He had seen a
+picture somewhere of a gallant youth descending by means of
+such a rope a tower apparently a mile or two in height; it was
+an unpleasant night and the youth was whirled hither and
+thither by the tempestuous winds. Had his bedroom been a couple
+of miles from the ground, why then--Bailey smacked his lips,
+and his eyes glistened--but as it wasn't he discarded the idea.
+He sighed to think that they build none of those lofty towers
+now--at least, so far as he was aware.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No; for the present it was sufficient to get away. Let him
+first get clear away, and then he would have adventures fast
+enough. He decided that the old familiar schoolroom window
+would suffice for the occasion. He would get out of that.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the chief difficulty he had to face was the terrible risk
+which existed of his being fetched away. One boy after another
+went; hour after hour passed; a bare handful of young gentlemen
+remained. They had dinner, such as it was; but Bertie had lost
+his appetite, and was for the nonce contented with meagre fare.
+They had tea, which was postponed to the latest possible hour,
+and which when it came consisted of a liquid which such boys as
+partook of it declared was concocted of the tea leaves which
+had remained at breakfast, and which was accompanied by thick
+slices of unbuttered bread. But Bertie never grumbled; he ate
+his bread and he drank his tea without suggesting anything
+against its quality.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The evening passed. The number of boys was still more
+diminished, yet for Bailey no one came. The clock pointed to an
+hour at which it was declared that no one could come now--it
+was half-past nine. The usual hour for bed was half-past eight,
+but the boys had been kept up in the expectation and possible
+hope that at Mecklemburg House it would not be necessary for
+them to go to bed at all. Now they were ordered to their rooms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie could have danced, and sung, and stood on his head, and
+comported himself generally like a juvenile madman; but he
+refrained, His time was coming; he would be able to comport
+himself as he liked in two hours and a half, but at present the
+word was caution.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was arranged that all the boys who remained should sleep in
+the same room. There were only five: Edgar Wheeler, Tom Graham,
+little Willie Seymour, a boy whose parents were in India named
+Hagen, and commonly called Blackamoor, and Bertie Bailey. The
+first into bed was Bailey. Not a word was to be got out of him
+edgeways. He was a model of good behaviour. He even pressed the
+others to hurry into bed, to go to sleep, to let him sleep.
+They slept long before he did. He lay awake tingling all over.
+He listened to their regular respirations--Hagen was a loud
+snorer and always set up a signal of distress--and when he was
+sure they were asleep he hugged himself in bed. Then he sat up,
+being careful to make as little noise as possible, and in the
+darkness peered at his sleeping comrades. Their gentle
+breathing and Hagen's stentorian snores were music in his ears.
+Then he lay back in bed again, biding his time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He heard a clock strike the half-hour--half-past ten. It was a
+church clock. He wondered which. The night was calm, and the
+sound travelled clearly through the air; it might have been a
+long way off. And then--then he went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was not at all what he intended--very much the other way. He
+had supposed that he had only to make up his mind to lie awake
+till twelve o'clock to do it. But he was wrong; the strain at
+which he had kept his faculties through the day had told upon
+him more than he had supposed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He awoke with a start--with a consciousness that something was
+wrong. He listened for a moment, wondering what strange thing
+had roused him. Then he remembered with a flash. The time had
+gone and he had slept.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With a half-stifled cry he sprang up in bed. What time was it?
+Had he really slept? Only for a minute or two, he felt sure. He
+groped his way to Graham's bed. That young gentleman slept with
+his watch beneath his pillow; Bailey was awkward in his
+attempts to get at it without waking the sleepy owner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He got it, and took it to the window that he might see the
+time. Half-past two! soon it would be light--Bertie was almost
+inclined to think it was getting lighter now. He gave a cry of
+rage, and the watch dropped from his hand to the floor.
+Startled, he turned to see if the sleepers were awakened by the
+noise. He held his breath to listen. They slumbered as before.
+He picked up the watch and placed it on the mantelshelf, not
+caring to run the risk of rousing Graham by replacing it
+beneath his pillow. As he did so, he noticed that the glass was
+broken, shattered in the fall.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With great rapidity he dressed himself, only pausing for a
+moment to see that the one and fivepence was safe. His slippers
+were packed; he had come to bed in his boots. Holding them in
+his hand, in his stockinged feet he stole across the room,
+carefully turned the handle of the door, went out, and shut the
+door behind him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He met with no accident on his way to the schoolroom. Within
+five minutes of his leaving his bed he was standing among the
+desks and forms. The blinds had not been drawn: the moonlight
+flooded the room--at any rate, the moon had not gone down. He
+was going to carry out so much of his plans--he was to fly
+through a moonlit world. Perhaps after all the little accident
+which had caused him to shut his eyes was not of much
+importance. Certainly, the sleep had refreshed him; he felt
+capable of making for the Land of Golden Dreams without
+requiring to pause upon the way.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Among the moonlit desks and forms he put his boots on; laced
+them up; then, with a careful hand, slipped the hasp of the
+familiar window, raised the sash, got out, and lowered himself
+to the ground. It was only when he was on the ground that he
+remembered that he was without a cap. He put his hand into the
+inner pocket of his jacket and produced an old cricket cap
+which he had privately secured when he was supposed to be
+assisting at the packing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he started for the Land of Golden Dreams.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter X</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">ANOTHER LITTLE DRIVE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">He ran across the courtyard, glancing up at the silent house
+behind him. In the moonlight Mecklemburg House looked like a
+house of the dead. Through the gate, and out into the road;
+then, for a moment, Bertie paused.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Which way shall I go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stood, hesitating, looking up and down the road. In his
+anxiety to reach the Land of Golden Dreams he had not paused to
+consider which was the road he had to take to get there. Such a
+detail had not occurred to him. He had taken it for granted
+that the road would choose itself; now he perceived that he had
+to choose the road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll go to London--something's sure to turn up when I get
+there. It always does. In London all sorts of things happen to
+a fellow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His right hand in his pocket, clasping his one and fivepence,
+he turned his face towards Cobham. He had a vague idea that to
+reach town one had to get to Kingston, and he knew that through
+Cobham and Esher was the road to Kingston. If he kept to the
+road the way was easy, he had simply to keep straight on. He
+had pictured himself flying across the moonlit fields; but he
+concluded that, for the present, at any rate, he had better
+confine himself to the plain broad road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The weather was glorious. It was just about that time when the
+night is about to give way to the morning, and there is that
+peculiar chill abroad in the world which, even in the height of
+summer, ushers in the dawn. It was as light as day--indeed,
+very soon it would be day; already in the eastern heavens were
+premonitory gleams of the approaching sun. But at present a
+moon which was almost at the full held undisputed reign in the
+cloudless sky. So bright were her rays that the stars were
+dimmed. All the world was flooded with her light. All was
+still, except the footsteps of the boy beating time upon the
+road. Not a sound was heard, nor was there any living thing in
+sight with the exception of the lad. Bertie Bailey had it all
+to himself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie strode along the Cobham road at a speed which he
+believed to be first rate, but which was probably under four
+miles an hour. Every now and then he broke into a trot, but as
+a rule he confined himself to walking. Conscious that he would
+not be missed till several hours had passed, he told himself
+that he would have plenty of time to place himself beyond reach
+of re-capture before pursuit could follow. Secure in this
+belief, every now and then he stopped and looked about him on
+the road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was filled with a sense of strange excitement. He did not
+show this in his outward bearing, for nature had formed his
+person in an impassive mould, and he was never able to
+dispossess himself of an air of phlegm. An ordinary observer
+would have said that this young gentleman was constitutionally
+heavy and dull, and impervious to strong feeling of any sort.
+Mr. Fletcher, for instance, had been wont to declare that
+Bailey was his dullest pupil, and in continual possession of
+the demons of obstinacy and sulkiness. Yet, on this occasion,
+at least, Bailey was on fire with a variety of feelings to
+every one of which Mr. Fletcher would have deemed him of
+necessity a stranger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It seemed to him, as he walked on and on, that he walked in
+fairyland. He was conscious of a thousand things which were
+imperceptible to his outward sense. His heart seemed too light
+for his bosom; to soar out of it; to bear him to a land of
+visions. That Land of Golden Dreams towards which he travelled
+he had already reached with his mind's eye, and that before he
+had gone a mile upon the road to Cobham.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mecklemburg House was already a thing of the past That petty
+poring over books, which some call study, and which Mr. George
+Washington Bankes had declared was such a culpable waste of
+time, was gone for ever. No more books for him; no more school;
+no more rubbish of any kind. The world was at his feet for him
+to pick and choose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By the time he had got to Cobham he was making up his mind as
+to the particular line of heroism to which he would apply
+himself. The old town, for Cobham calls itself a town, was
+still and silent, apparently unconscious of the glorious
+morning which was dawning on the world, and certainly
+unconscious of the young gentleman who was passing through its
+pleasant street, scheming schemes which, when brought to full
+fruition, would proclaim him a hero in the sight of a universe
+of men.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll be a highwayman; I'd like to be; I will be. If a coach
+and four were to come along the road this minute I'd stop the
+horses. Yes! and I'd set one of them loose, and I'd mount it,
+and I'd go to the window of the coach, and I'd say, 'Stand and
+deliver.' And I'd make them hand over all they'd got, watches,
+purses, jewellery, everything--I shouldn't care if it was
+£10,000.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He fingered the one and fivepence in his pocket; the sound of
+the rattling coppers fired his blood.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And then I'd dash away on the horse's back, and I'd buy a
+ship, and I'd man it with a first-rate crew, and I'd sink
+it in the middle of the sea. And, first of all, I'd fill the
+long-boat with everything that I could want--guns, and pistols,
+and revolvers, and swords, and bullets, and powder, and
+cartridges and things--and I'd get into it alone, and I'd say
+farewell to the sinking ship and crew, and I'd row off to a
+desert island, and I'd stop there five-and-twenty years. Yes;
+and I'd tame all the birds and animals and things, and I'd be
+happy as a king. And then I'd come away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He did not pause to consider how he was to come away; but that
+was a detail too trivial to deserve consideration. By this time
+Cobham was being left behind; but he saw nothing save the life
+which was to be after he had left that desert isle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd go to Sherwood Forest, and I'd live under the greenwood
+tree, and I'd form a band of robbers, and I'd have them dressed
+in green, and I'd seize the Archbishop of Canterbury, and I'd
+make him fight me with single-sticks, and I'd let the beggars
+go, and I'd give the poor all the booty that I got.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What the rest of the band would say to this generous
+distribution of their hard-earned gains was another detail
+which escaped consideration.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I'd be the oppressor of the rich and the champion of the
+poor, and I'd make everybody happy.&quot; How the rich were to be
+made happy by oppression it is difficult to see; but so few
+systems of philosophy bear a rigorous examination. &quot;And I'd
+have peace and plenty through the land, and I'd have lots of
+fighting, and if there was anybody in prison I'd break the
+prisons open and I'd let the prisoners out, and I'd be Ruler of
+the Greenwood Tree.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His thoughts turned to Jack the Giant-Killer. By now the day
+was really breaking, and with the rising sun his spirits rose
+still higher. The moonlight merging into the sunshine filled
+the country with a rosy haze, which was just the kind of thing
+for magic.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish there still were fairies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If he only had had the eyes no fairyland would have been more
+beautiful than the world just then.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I don't exactly wish that there were fairies--fairies are
+such stuff; but I wish that there were giants and all that kind
+of thing. And I wish that I had a magic sword, and a purse that
+was always more full the more you emptied it, and that I could
+walk ten thousand miles a day. I wish that you had only got to
+wish for a thing to get it--wouldn't I just start wishing! I
+don't know what I wouldn't wish for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He did not. The catalogue would have filled a volume.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But the chief thing for which I'd wish would be to be exactly
+where I am, and to be going exactly where I'm going to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He laughed, and thrust his hands deeper in his pockets when he
+thought of this, and was so possessed by his emotions that he
+kicked up his heels and began to dance a sort of fandango in
+the middle of the road. He perceived that it was a pleasant
+thing to wish to be exactly where he was, and to be so well
+satisfied with the journey's end he had in view. It is not
+every boy who is bound for the Land of Golden Dreams; and
+especially by the short cut which reaches it by way of the
+Cobham road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So far he had not met a single human being, nor seen a sign,
+nor heard a sound of one. But when he had fairly left Cobham in
+the rear, and was yet engaged in the performance of that dance
+which resembled the fandango, he heard behind him the sound of
+wheels rapidly approaching. They were yet a considerable
+distance off, but they were approaching so swiftly that one's
+first thought was that a luckless driver was being run away
+with. When Bertie heard them first he started. His thought was
+of pursuit; his impulse was to scramble into an adjoining
+field, and to hide behind a hedge. It would be terrible to be
+re-captured in the initiatory stage of his journey to the Land
+of Golden Dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But his alarm vanished when he turned and looked behind him.
+The vehicle approaching contained a friend. Even at that
+distance he recognised it as the dog-cart of Mr. George
+Washington Bankes. The ungainly-looking beast flying at such a
+terrific pace along the lonely road was none other than the
+redoubtable Mary Anne.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In a remarkably short space of time the vehicle was level with
+Bertie. For a moment the boy wondered if he had been
+recognised; but the doubt did not linger long, for with
+startling suddenness Mary Anne was brought to a halt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hallo! Who's that? Haven't I seen you before? Turn round, you
+youngster, and let me see your face. I know the cut of your
+jib, or I'm mistaken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie turned. He looked at Mr. Bankes and Mr. Bankes looked at
+him. Mr. George Washington Bankes whistled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whew--w--w, if it isn't the boy who stood up to the lout.
+What's your name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bailey, sir; Bertie Bailey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes; Bailey! Early hours, Bailey--taking a stroll, eh?
+What in thunder brings you here this time of day? I thought
+good boys like you were fast asleep in bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey looked sheepish, and felt it. There was something in the
+tone of Mr. Bankes' voice which was a little trying. Bertie
+hung his head, and held his peace.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lost your tongue? Poor little dear! Speak up. What are you
+doing here this time of day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you please, sir, I'm running away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Running away!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment Mr. Bankes started. Then he burst into a loud and
+continued roar of laughter, which had an effect upon Bertie
+very closely resembling that of an extinguisher upon a candle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, Bailey, what are you running away for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Under the circumstances Bertie felt this question cruel. When
+he had last seen Mr. Bankes the question had been put the other
+way. He had been treated as a poor-spirited young gentleman
+because he had not run away already. Plucking up courage, he
+looked up at his questioner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You told me to run away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The only immediate answer was another roar of laughter.
+Something very like tears came into the boy's eyes, and his
+face assumed that characteristically sullen expression for
+which he was famous. This was not the sort of treatment he had
+expected.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't mean to say--now look me in the face, youngster--you
+don't mean to say that you're running away because I told you
+to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The last words of the question were spoken very deliberately,
+with a slight pause between each. Bertie's answer was to the
+point. He looked up at Mr. Bankes with that sullen, bull-dog
+look of his, and said,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And where do you think you're running to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To the Land of Golden Dreams.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a sullen obstinacy about the lad's tone, as though
+the confession was extracted from him against his will.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To the Land of Golden Dreams! Well! Here, you'd better get up.
+I'll give you a lift upon the road? and there's a word or two
+I'd like to say as we are going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie climbed up to the speaker's side, and Mary Anne was
+again in motion. The swift travelling through the sweet, fresh
+morning was pleasant; and as the current of air dashed against
+his cheeks Bertie's heart began to re-ascend a little. For some
+moments not a word was spoken; but Bertie felt that Mr. Bankes'
+big black eyes wandered from Mary Anne to him, and from him to
+Mary Anne, with a half-mocking, half-curious expression.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, boy, are any of your family lunatics?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The question was scarcely courteous. Bertie's lips shut close.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite sure? Now just you think? Anybody on your mother's side
+just a little touched? They say insanity don't spring to a head
+at once, but gathers strength through successive generations.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey did not quite understand what was meant; but knowing it
+was something not exactly complimentary he held his peace.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now--straight out--you don't mean to say you're running away
+because I told you to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And for nothing else?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie paused for a moment to consider.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know about nothing else, but I shouldn't have thought
+of it if you hadn't told me to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then it strikes me the best thing I can do is to turn round
+and drive you back again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes laughed. There was such a sullen meaning in the
+boy's slow utterance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! won't you? What'll you do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In an instant Bertie had risen from his seat, and if Mr. Bankes
+had not been very quick in putting his arm about him he would
+have sprung out upon the road. As it was, Mr. Bankes, taken by
+surprise, gave an unintentional tug at the left rein, and had
+he not corrected his error with wonderful dexterity Mary Anne
+would have landed the trap and its occupants in a convenient
+ditch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you try that on again,&quot; said Mr. Bankes, retaining his
+hold on the lad.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you say you'll drive me back again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here's a fighting cock. There have been lunatics in the
+family--I know there have. Don't be a little idiot. Sit still.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Promise you won't drive me back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And supposing I won't promise you, what then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie's only answer was to give a sudden twist, and before Mr.
+Bankes had realized what he intended he had slipped out of his
+grasp, and was sprawling on the road. Fortunately the trap had
+been brought to a standstill, for had Bertie carried out his
+original design of springing out with Mary Anne going at full
+speed, the probabilities are that he would have brought his
+adventures to a final termination on the spot. Mr. Bankes
+stared for a moment, and then laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, of all the young ones ever I heard tell of!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, seeing that Bertie had picked himself up, and was
+preparing to escape by scrambling through a quickset hedge into
+a field of uncut hay--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stop!&quot; he cried. &quot;I won't take you back. I promise you upon my
+honour I won't. A lad of your kidney's born to be hanged; and
+if it's hanging you've made up your mind to, I'm not the man to
+stop you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad eyed him doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You promise you'll let me do as I please?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I swear it, my bantam cock. You shall do as you please, and go
+where you please. I can't stop mooning here all day; jump in,
+and let's be friends again. I'm square, upon my honour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad resumed his former seat; Mary Anne was once more
+started.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Next time you feel it coming on, why, tip me the wink, and
+I'll pull up. It's a pity that a neck like yours should be
+broken before the proper time; and if you were to jump out
+while Mary Anne was travelling like this, why, there'd be
+nothing left to do but to pick up the pieces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As Bertie vouchsafed no answer, after a pause Mr. Bankes went
+on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Bailey, joking aside, what is the place you're making
+for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;London. Got any friends there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ever been there before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been there with father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Know anything about it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So I should say, by the build of you. I shouldn't be surprised
+if you know more when you come back again--if you ever do come
+back again, my bantam. Shall I tell you what generally happens
+to boys like you who go up to London without knowing much about
+it, and without any friends there? They generally&quot;--Mr. Bankes,
+as it were, punctuated these words, laying an emphasis on
+each--&quot;go under, and they stop under, and there's an end of
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He paused; if for a reply, in vain, for there was none from
+Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think London's the Land of Golden Dreams? Well, it is;
+that's exactly what it is--it's the Land of Golden Dreams, and
+the dreams are short ones, and when you wake from them you're
+up to your neck in filth, and you wish that you were dead. For
+they're nothing else but dreams, and the reality is dirt, and
+shame, and want, and misery, and death.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again he paused; and again there was no reply from Bertie. &quot;How
+much money have you got?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One and fivepence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that all?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well! well! I say nothing, but I think a lot. And do you mean
+to tell me that you're off to London with the sum of one
+shilling and fivepence in your pocket?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You said you ran away with ninepence-halfpenny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, that's a score! And so I did, but circumstances alter
+cases, and that was the foolishest thing that ever I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You said it was the most sensible thing you'd ever done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've a remarkable memory--a remarkable memory; and if you
+keep it up you'll improve as you go on. If I said that, I was a
+liar--I was the biggest liar that ever lived. I wonder if you
+could go through the sort of thing that I have done?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes' eyes were again fixed on Bertie, as though he would
+take his measure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Most men would have been dead a dozen times. I don't know that
+I haven't been; I know I've often wished that I could have died
+just once--that I could have been wiped clean out. God save
+you, young one, from such a life as mine. Pray God to pull you
+up in time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Another pause and then--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's your plans?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't think you did by the look of you. And how long do
+you suppose you're going to live, on the sum of one and
+fivepence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I should say that with economy you could manage to live
+two hours--perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less; that's
+to say, an hour before you have your dinner and an hour after.
+Some could manage to stretch it out to tea, but you're not one.
+And when the money's gone how do you suppose you're going to
+get some more?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now don't you think that I'd better turn Mary Anne right
+round, and take you back again? You've had a pleasant little
+drive, you know, and the morning air's refreshing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't go, and you promised that you wouldn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll wish you had about this time to-morrow; and perhaps a
+little before. However, a promise is a promise, so on we go.
+Know where you are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bailey did not; Mr. Bankes had turned some sharp corners, and
+having left the highroad behind was guiding Mary Anne along a
+narrow lane in which there was scarcely room for two vehicles
+to pass abreast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;These are the Ember lanes. There's East Molesey right ahead,
+then the Thames, then Hampton Court, and then I'll have to
+leave you. I've come round this way to stretch the old girl's
+legs.&quot; This was a graceful allusion to Mary Anne. &quot;My shortest
+cut would have been across Walton Bridge, as I'm off to Kempton
+to see a trial of a horse in which I'm interested; so when I
+get to Hampton Court I'll have to go some of my way back again.
+Now make up your mind. There isn't much time left to do it in.
+Say the word, and I'll take you all the way along with me, and
+land you back just where you started. Take a hint, and think a
+bit before you speak.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Apparently Bertie took the hint, for it was a moment or two
+before he answered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not going back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. That's the last time of asking, so I wish you joy
+on your journey to the Land of the Golden Dreams.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XI</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">THE ORIGINAL BADGER</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">As Mr. Bankes spoke, Mary Anne dashed over the little bridge
+which spans the Mole, and in another second they were passing
+through East Molesey. Nothing was said as they raced through
+the devious village street. The world in East Molesey was just
+beginning to think of waking up. A few labourers were visible,
+on their road to work. When they reached the river, some of the
+watermen were preparing their boats, putting them ship-shape
+for the day, and on Tagg's Island there were signs of life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Over Hampton Court Bridge flew Mary Anne; past the barracks,
+where there were more signs of life, and where Hussars were
+recommencing the slightly monotonous routine of a warrior's
+life, and then the mare was brought to a sudden standstill at
+the corner of the green.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The parting of the ways--you go yours, and I go mine, and I
+rather reckon, young one, it won't be long before you wish
+there'd been no parting, and we'd both rolled on together.
+Which way are you going to London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thought about going through Kingston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, you can either go through Bushy Park here, or you
+can go Kingston way. But don't let me say a word about the road
+you go, especially as it don't seem to me to matter which it
+is--round by the North Pole and Timbuctoo for all I care, for
+you're in no sort of hurry, and all you want is to get there in
+the end.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can't I get to Kingston by the river?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly. You go through the barrack yard there, and through
+the little gate which you'll see over at the end on your right,
+and you'll be on the towing-path. And then you've only got to
+follow your nose and you'll get to Kingston Bridge, and there
+you are. The nearest is by Frog's Walk here, along by the
+walls, but please yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd sooner go by the river.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Bankes put his hand into his trousers pocket, and when he
+pulled it out it was full of money.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, it seems that I've had a hand in this little
+scrape, though I'd no more idea you'd swallow every word of
+what I said than I had of flying. You're about as fine a bunch
+of greens as ever I encountered, and that's the truth. But,
+anyhow, I had a hand, and as I'm a partner in the spree I'm not
+going to sort you all the kicks and collar all the halfpence.
+And I tell you&quot;--Mr. Bankes raised his voice to a very loud
+key, as though Bailey was arguing the point instead of sitting
+perfectly still--&quot;I tell you that for a boy like you to cut and
+run with the sum of one and fivepence in his pocket is a thing
+I'm not going to stand. No, not on any account, so hold out
+your hand, you leather-headed noodle, and pocket this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie held out his hand, Mr. Bankes counted into it five
+separate sovereigns.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now sling your hook!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before Bertie had a chance to thank him, or even to realize the
+sudden windfall he had encountered, Mr. Bankes had caught hold
+of him, lifted him bodily from his seat, and placed him on the
+road. Mary Anne had started, and the trap was flying past the
+Cardinal Wolsey, on the Hampton Road. Left standing there, with
+the five sovereigns tightly grasped in his palm, Bailey decided
+that Mr. Bankes had rather a sudden way of doing things.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He remained motionless a minute watching the receding trap.
+Perhaps he expected, perhaps he hoped, that Mr. Bankes would
+look round and wave him a parting greeting; but there was
+nothing of the kind. In a very short space of time the trap was
+out of sight and he was left alone. Just for that instant, just
+for that first moment, in which he realized his solitude, he
+regretted that he had not acted on his late companion's advice,
+and pursued the journey with Mary Anne. Then he looked at the
+five pounds he held in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, here's a go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He could scarcely believe his eyes. He took up each of the
+coins separately and examined it. Then he placed them in a low
+on his extended palm, and stared. Their radiance dazzled him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Catch me going back while I've got all this, I should rather
+like somebody to see me at it. Five pounds!&quot; Here was a
+long-drawn respiration. &quot;Fancy him tipping me five pounds! I
+call that something like a tip. Won't I spend it! Just fancy
+having five pounds to spend on what you like! Well, I never
+did!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hallo, you boy, got anything nice to look at?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie turned. A soldier, in a considerable state of undress,
+was standing a few yards behind him, watching his proceedings.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that to you?&quot; asked Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He put both his hands into his trousers pockets, keeping tight
+hold on the precious sovereigns, and turning, walked up the
+barrack yard. As he passed, the soldier grinned; but Bertie
+condescended to pay no heed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I'd had a fortune left to me, I'd stand a man a drink, if
+it was only the price of half a pint.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was what the soldier shouted after Bertie. One or two of
+the troopers who were engaged in various ways, and who were all
+more or less undressed, looking very different from the dashing
+pictures of military splendour which they would shortly present
+upon parade, stared at the boy as he went by, but no one spoke
+to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Once on the towing-path, he turned his face Kingston-wards and
+hastened on. These five sovereigns burnt a hole in his pocket.
+When his capital had been represented by the sum of one and
+fivepence he had been dimly conscious that it would be
+necessary to be careful in his outlay. He had even outlined a
+system of expenditure. But five pounds!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They represented boundless wealth. He had been once presented
+by a grateful patient of his father's with a tip of half a
+sovereign. That was the largest sum of which he had ever been
+in possession at one and the same time, and no sooner had the
+donor's back been turned than his mother had confiscated five
+shillings of that. She declared that it was intended the
+half-sovereign should be divided among his brothers and
+sisters, and the five shillings went in the division. But five
+pounds! What were five shillings, or even half a sovereign, to
+five pounds.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If Mr. George Washington Bankes had desired to dissipate
+whatever effect his words of warning might have had he could
+not have chosen a surer method. As the possessor of five
+pounds, Bertie's belief in the land of golden dreams was
+stronger than ever. The pieces of golden money had as good as
+transported him thither upon the spot.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His spirits rose to boiling-pitch as he walked beside the
+river. The sunshine flooded all the world, and danced upon the
+glancing waters, and filled his heart with joy. As he looked
+up, the words, &quot;five pounds,&quot; seemed streaming in radiant
+golden letters across the sunlit sky.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Nearly opposite Ditton church he sat down on the grass to revel
+in his fancies. The castles which he built, the schemes he
+schemed, the future he foretold! No one passing by, and seeing
+a boy with an apparently sullen face, sprawling on the grass,
+would have had the least conception of the world of imagination
+in which, at that moment, he lived and moved, and had his
+being.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He lay there perhaps more than an hour. He might have lain
+there even longer had not two things recalled him to the world
+of fact. The first was a growing consciousness that he was
+hungry; and the other, the crossing of the ferry. The Ditton
+ferry-boat made its first appearance, with two or three young
+fellows who had seemingly made the passage with a view of
+enjoying an early morning bathe on the more secluded Middlesex
+side. When they got out, Bertie got in. Not that he wanted to
+go to Ditton, nor that he even knew the name of the place which
+he saw upon the other side of the water, but that he fancied
+the row across the stream. When he was in the boat a thought
+struck him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How much will you row me to Kingston for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can't take you in this boat, this here's the ferry-boat; but
+I can let you have a boat the other side, and a chap to row
+you, and I'll take you for--do you want to go there and back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No; I want to stop at Kingston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you going to the fair there? I hear there's to be a fine
+fair this time, and a circus, and all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had neither heard of the fair nor of the circus; but the
+idea was tempting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised if I did go. How much will you row me
+for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The ferryman hesitated. He was probably debating within himself
+as to the capacity of the young gentleman's pockets, and also
+not improbably as to his capacity for being bled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll row you there for five shillings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie was not quite so verdant as he looked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll give you eighteenpence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you're a cool hand, you are, to offer a man
+eighteenpence for what he wants five shillings for. But I don't
+want to be hard upon a young gentleman what is a young
+gentleman. I'll row you there for four; a man's got to live,
+you know, and it isn't as though you wanted a boat to row
+yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie was unable to see his way to paying four. Finally a
+bargain was struck for half a crown. Then a difficulty occurred
+as to change, and Bertie entrusted one of his precious
+sovereigns to the ferryman to get changed at the Swan. Then a
+boat was launched, a lad not very much older than Bertie was
+placed in charge, the fare was paid in advance, and a start was
+made for Kingston.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By the time they reached that ancient town, Bertie was hungry
+in earnest. The walk, the drive, and now the row in the
+freshness of the early morning had combined to give him an
+appetite which, at Mecklemburg House, would have been regarded
+with considerable disapproval. Now, too, the short commons of
+the day before were remembered; and as Bertie fingered the
+money in his pockets he thought with no slight satisfaction of
+the good things in the eating and drinking line which it would
+buy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was landed at his own request on the Middlesex side of
+Kingston Bridge, and having generously made the lad who had
+rowed him richer by the sum of sixpence, he started, with
+renewed vigour, to cross the bridge into the town. No sooner
+had he crossed than a coffee-shop met his eye. It was the very
+thing he wanted. With the air of a capitalist he entered and
+ordered a sumptuous repast--coffee, bread and butter, ham and
+eggs. Having made a hearty meal,--and a hearty meal was a
+subject on which he had ideas of his own, for he followed up
+the ham and eggs with half a dozen open tarts and a jam puff
+or two, buying half a pound of sweets to eat when he got
+outside,--he paid the bill and sallied forth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was cattle-market day, and unusual business seemed to be
+doing. Not only was the market-place crowded with live stock,
+but they overflowed into the neighbouring streets. For the
+present, Bertie was content to watch the proceedings. In the
+position of a capitalist he could travel to London in state and
+at his leisure. Just now his mind was running on what the
+ferryman had said about the circus and the fair. He could go to
+London at any time. It was not a place which was likely to run
+away. But circuses and fairs were things which were quick to
+go, and once gone were gone for ever. Bertie resolved that he
+would commence his journey by seeing both the circus and the
+fair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Nor was his resolution weakened by a joyous procession which
+passed through the Kingston street.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Badger's Royal Popular Cosmopolitan and World-famed
+Hippodrome</span>&quot; was an imposing title for a circus, but not more
+imposing than the glories revealed by that procession.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Supported by all the greatest artists in the world chosen
+from all the nations of the universe</i>&quot; was the continuation of
+the title, and, judging from the astonishing variety of ladies
+and gentlemen who rode the horses, who bestrode the camels, who
+crowded the triumphal cars, and who ran along on foot
+distributing handbills among the crowd, it really seemed that
+the statement was justified by fact. There were Chinamen whose
+pigtails seemed quite real; there were gentlemen of colour who
+seemed warranted to wash; there were individuals with beards
+and moustaches of an altogether foreign character; and there
+were ladies of the most wondrous and enchanting beauty,
+dressed in the most picturesque and amazing styles. Bertie
+Bailey, at any rate, was persuaded that it would be absurd for
+him to think of going on to town till he had attended at least
+one performance of Badger's Royal Popular Cosmopolitan and
+World-famed Hippodrome.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He followed the procession to the fair field. And there,
+although it was not yet noon, the fair was already in full
+swing. All those immortal entertainments without which a fair
+would not be a fair were liberally provided. There were shows,
+and shooting galleries, and bottle-throwing establishments, and
+seas upon land, and resplendent roundabouts, and stalls at
+which were vended goods of the very best quality; and all those
+joys and raptures which go to make a fair in every part of the
+world in which fairs are known.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie cared for none of these things. All his soul was
+fixed upon the circus. He attended the performance. As befitted
+a young gentleman of fortune he occupied a front seat, price
+two shillings. A hypercritical spectator might have suggested
+that the procession had been the best part of the show. But
+this was not the case in Bertie's eyes. He was enraptured with
+the feats of skill and daring which he witnessed in the ring.
+Only one consideration marred his complete enjoyment.
+Unfortunately he could not make up his mind whether he would
+rather be the gentleman who, disdaining all ordinary modes of
+horsemanship, standing upon the backs of two cream-coloured
+steeds, with streaming tails, dashed round the ring; or the
+clown whose business it was--a business which he seemed to
+think a pleasure--to keep the audience in a roar. He was not so
+much struck by a gentleman who performed marvels on a flying
+trapeze; nor by the surefootedness of a lady who walked upon an
+&quot;invisible wire,&quot;--which was, in this case, a rope about the
+thickness of Bertie's wrist.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But he quite made up his mind that he would be either the clown
+or the rider; and that, when he had determined which of these
+honourable positions he would prefer to fill, he would lose no
+time in laying siege to one of the ladies of the establishment,
+and to beg her to be his. But here the same difficulty
+occurred;--he was not quite certain which. However, by the time
+the performance was over, and the audience was dismissed, on
+one point he was assured, he would enlist under the banners of
+the world-famed Badger. Dick Turpin, Robin Hood, Robinson
+Crusoe, Jack the Giant Killer, might do for some folks, but a
+circus was the place for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he regained the open air, and had bidden an unwilling
+adieu to the sawdust glories, the afternoon was pretty well
+advanced and the fair was more crowded than ever. But Bertie
+could not tear himself away from Badger's. He hung about the
+exterior of the tent as though the neighbourhood was holy
+ground.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Several other loiterers lingered too; and among them were four
+or five men who did not look, to put it gently, as though they
+belonged to what are called the upper classes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've half a mind,&quot; said Bertie to himself, &quot;to go inside the
+tent, and ask Mr. Badger if he wants a boy. But perhaps he
+wouldn't like to be troubled when there's no performance on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie's ideas on circus management were rudimentary. Mr.
+Badger would perhaps have looked a little blue to find himself
+met with such a request if there had been a performance on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you think of the circus?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The question was put by one of the individuals before referred
+to. He had apparently given his companions the slip, for they
+stood a little distance off, ostentatiously paying no attention
+to his proceedings. He was a short man, inclined to stoutness,
+and Bertie thought he had the reddest face he had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's not a bad show, is it? And more it didn't ought to be,
+for the amount of money it cost me to put that show together no
+one wouldn't believe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stared. It dimly occurred to him that it must have cost
+him all the money he possessed and so left him nothing to throw
+away upon his clothing, for his costume was distinctly shabby.
+But the stout man went on affably:--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I saw you looking round, so I thought as perhaps you took a
+interest in these here kind of things. Perhaps you don't know
+who I am?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie didn't and said so.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm Badger, the Original Badger. I may say the only Badger as
+was ever known,--for all them other Badgers belongs to another
+branch of the family.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Original Badger put his hand to his neck, apparently with
+the intention of pulling up his shirt collar, which, however,
+wasn't there. Bertie stared still more. The stout man did
+not by any means come up to the ideas he had formed of the
+world-famed Badger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not the Mr. Badger to whom the circus belongs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ain't I! But I ham, I just ham.&quot; The Original Badger's
+enunciation of the letter was more emphatic than correct.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I should like to see the man who says I hain't! I'd
+fight that man either for beer or money either now or any other
+time, and I shouldn't care if he was twenty stone. Now look
+'ere&quot;--the Original Badger gave Bertie so hearty a slap upon
+the back that that young gentleman tottered--&quot;What I say is
+this. I wants a well-built young fellow about your age to learn
+the riding, and to train for clown, and I wants that young
+feller to make his first appearance this day three weeks. Now
+what do you say to being that young feller?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think I could learn it in three weeks,&quot; was all Bertie
+could manage to stammer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh couldn't you? I know better. Now, look 'ere, I'm going to
+pay that young feller five and twenty pound a week, and find
+him in his clothing. What do you say to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie would have liked to say a good deal, if he could have
+only found the words to say it with. Among other things he
+would probably have liked to have said that he hoped the
+clothing which was to accompany the five and twenty pounds a
+week would be of a different sort to that worn by the Original
+Badger. It would have been a hazardous experiment to have
+offered five and twenty pence for the stout man's costume.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, look 'ere, there's a house I know close by where you and
+me can be alone, and we can talk it over. You're just the sort
+of young feller I've been looking for. Now come along with me
+and I'll make your fortune for you,--you see if I don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before Bertie quite knew what was happening, the stout man had
+slipped his arm through his, and was hurrying him through the
+fair, away from it, and down some narrow streets which were not
+of the most aristocratic appearance. All the time he kept
+pouring out such a stream of words that the lad was given no
+chance to remonstrate, even if he had had presence of mind
+enough to do it with. But, metaphorically, the Original
+Badger--to use an expression in vulgar phrase--had knocked him
+silly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What exactly happened Bertie never could remember. The Original
+Badger led him to a very doubtful looking public-house, and,
+before he knew it, the lad was through the door. They did not
+go into the public bar, but into a little room beyond. They had
+scarcely entered when they were joined by three or four more
+shabby individuals, whom the Original Badger greeted as his
+friends. If Bertie had looked behind he would have perceived
+these gentry following close upon his heels all the time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This young gentleman's going to stand something to drink. Now,
+'Enery William, gin cold.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The order was given by the Original Badger to a shrivelled-up
+individual without a coat who seemed to act as pot-boy. When
+this person disappeared, and Bertie was left alone with the
+Original Badger and his friends, he by no means liked the
+situation. A more unpleasant looking set of vagabonds could
+with difficulty be found; and he felt that if these were the
+sort of gentry who had to do with circuses a circus was not the
+place for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The pot-boy re-appeared with a bottle of water, and a tray of
+glasses containing gin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two shillings,&quot; said the pot-boy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right; the gentleman pays.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pay in advance,&quot; said the pot-boy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two shillings, captain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Original Badger gave Bertie another of his hearty slaps
+upon the back. Bertie felt they were too hearty by half.
+However, he produced a florin, with which the pot-boy
+disappeared, leaving the glasses on the table.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going,&quot; he said, directly that functionary was gone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, before you've drunk your liquor? You'll never do for a
+circus, you won't.&quot; Bertie felt he wouldn't. &quot;Why, I've got all
+that business to talk over with you. I'm going to engage this
+young feller in my circus to do the clowning and the riding for
+five and twenty pound a week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Original Badger cast what was suspiciously like a wink in
+the direction of his friends. One of these friends handed the
+glasses round. He lingered a moment with the glass he gave to
+Bertie before he filled it half-way up with water, then he held
+it towards the boy. He was a tall, sallow-looking ruffian, with
+ragged whiskers; the sort of man one would very unwillingly
+encounter on a lonely road at night.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Drink that up,&quot; he said; &quot;that's the sort of thing for circus
+riders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want to drink the stuff,&quot; said Bertie. &quot;Drink it up,
+you fool!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad hesitated a moment, then emptied the glass at a
+draught. What happened afterwards he never could describe; for
+it seemed to him that no sooner had he drunk the contents than
+he fell asleep; and as he sank into slumber he seemed to hear
+the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">A &quot;DOSS&quot; HOUSE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">When he woke it was dark. He did not know where he was. He
+opened his eyes, which were curiously heavy, and thought he was
+in a dream. He shut them again, and vainly wondered if he were
+back at Mecklemburg House or in his home at Upton. He half
+expected to hear familiar voices. Suddenly there was a crash of
+instruments; he started up, supporting himself upon his arm,
+and listened listlessly, still not quite sure he was not
+dreaming. It was the crash of the circus band; they were
+playing &quot;God Save the Queen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Something like consciousness returned. He began to understand
+his whereabouts. A cool breeze was blowing across his face; he
+was in the open air; behind him there was a canvas flapping. It
+was a tent. Around him were discords of every kind. It was
+night; the fair was in all its glory. He was lying in the fair
+field.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hallo, chappie! coming round again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some one spoke. Looking up, peering through his heavy eyes, he
+perceived that a lean, ragged figure was leaning over him.
+Sufficiently roused to dislike further companionship with the
+Original Badger and his friends, he dragged himself to a
+sitting posture. The stranger was a lad, not much, if any,
+older than himself, some ragamuffin of the streets.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who are you?&quot; asked Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind who I am. I've had my eyes on you this ever so
+long. Ain't you been a-going it neither. I thought that you was
+dead. Was it----?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He gave a suggestive gesture with his hand, as though he
+emptied a glass into his mouth. Bertie struggled to his feet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't feel quite well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't look it neither. Whatever have you been doing of?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie tried to think. He would like to have left his new
+acquaintance. The Original Badger and his friends had been
+quite enough for him, but his legs refused their office, and he
+was perforce compelled to content himself with standing still.
+He did not feel quite such a hero as he had done before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you lost anything?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The chance question brought Bertie back to recollection. He put
+his hand into his trousers pockets--they were empty.
+Bewildered, he felt in the pockets of his waistcoat and of his
+jacket--they were empty, too! Some one had relieved him of
+everything he possessed, down to his clasp knife and pocket
+handkerchief. Willie Seymour's one and fivepence, and Mr.
+Bankes' five pounds, both alike were gone!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been robbed,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised but what you had. What do you think
+is going to happen to you if you lies for ever so many hours in
+the middle of the fair field as if you was dead? How much have
+you lost?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Five pounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Five pounds!--crikey, if you ain't a pretty cove! Are you
+a-gammoning me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked at the lad. A thought struck him. He put out his
+hand and took him by the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've robbed me,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You leave me alone! who are you touching of? If you don't
+leave me alone, I'll make you smart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You try it on,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other tried it on, and with such remarkable celerity, that
+before he had realized what had happened, Bertie Bailey lay
+down flat. The stranger showed such science that, in his
+present half comatose condition, Bailey went down like a log.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't have done that if I'd been all right; and I do
+believe you've robbed me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Believe away! I ain't, so there! I ain't so much as seen the
+colour of your money, and I don't know nothing at all about it.
+The first I see of you was about five o'clock. You was a-lying
+just where you are now, and I've come and had a look at you a
+dozen times since. Why, it must be ten o'clock, for the circus
+is out, and you ain't woke up only just this minute. How came
+you to be lying there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. I've been robbed, and that's quite enough for
+me,--my head is aching fit to split.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Haven't you got any money left?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I haven't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where's your home?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, it ain't much to me, but I should think it's a good deal
+to you. If I was you I'd go home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you're not me, so I won't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, matey, it ain't no odds to me. If you likes lying
+there till the perlice come and walks you off, it's all the
+same to me so far as I'm concerned.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got no money; I've been robbed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what I'll do, I ain't a rich chap, not by no manner
+of means, and I never had five pounds to lose, but I've had a
+stroke of luck in my small way, and if you really haven't got
+no home, nor yet no coin, I don't mind standing in for a bed so
+far as four pence goes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you mean; leave me alone. I've got no money;
+I've been robbed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you have, chummy, and that's a fact; so you pick yourself
+up and toddle along with me; there ain't no fear of your being
+robbed again if you've nothing to lose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie half resisted the stranger's endeavour to assist him in
+finding his feet, but the other managed so dexterously that
+Bertie found himself accompanying his new friend with a fair
+amount of willingness. The fair was still at its height; the
+swings were fuller; the roundabout was driving a roaring trade;
+the sportsmen in the shooting gallery were popping away; but
+all these glories had lost their charm for Bertie. It seemed to
+him that it was all a hideous nightmare, from which he vainly
+struggled to shake himself free.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had it not been for occasional assistance, he would more than
+once have lost his footing. Something ailed him, but what, he
+was at a loss to understand. All the hopes, and vigour, and
+high spirits of the morning had disappeared, and with them all
+his dreams had vanished too. He was the most miserable young
+gentleman in Kingston Fair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He kept up an under current of grumbling all the way, now and
+then making feeble efforts to rid himself of his companion; but
+the stranger was too wide awake for Bertie to shake him off.
+Had he been better acquainted with the town, and in a fit state
+to realize his knowledge, he would have been aware that his
+companion was leading him, by a series of short cuts, in the
+direction of the apple-market. He paused before a tumbledown
+old house, over the door of which a lamp was burning. Bertie
+shrunk away, with some dim recollection of the establishment
+into which he had been enticed by the Original Badger and his
+friends. At sight of his unwillingness the other only laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you afraid of? This ain't a place in which they'd rob
+you, even if you'd got anything worth robbing, which it seems
+to me you ain't. This is a doss-house, this is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So saying he entered the house, the door of which seemed to
+stand permanently open. The somewhat reluctant Bertie entered
+with him. No one appearing to receive them, the stranger lost
+no time in informing the inmates of their arrival.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here, Mr. Jenkins, or Mrs. Jenkins, or some one, can I come
+up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In answer to this appeal, a stout lady appeared at the head of
+a flight of stairs, which rose almost from the threshold of the
+door. Hall there was none. She was not a very cleanly-looking
+lady, nor had she the softest of voices.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that you, Sam Slater? Who's that you've got with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A friend of mine, and that's enough for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With this brief response, the stranger, whose name appeared to
+be Sam Slater, led the way up the flight of stairs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anybody here?&quot; he asked, when he reached the landing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at present there ain't; I expect they're all at the fair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All the better,&quot; said Sam.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He followed the lady through a door which faced the landing,
+pausing for a moment to see that Bertie followed too. Something
+in Bertie's appearance struck the lady's eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with your friend,--ain't he well?&quot; she
+asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, he's not exactly well,&quot; responded Sam, favouring Bertie
+with a curious glance from the corner of his eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A man who was seated by a roaring fire, although the night was
+warm and bright, got up and joined the party. He was in his
+shirt-sleeves, and he also was stout, and he puffed
+industriously at a short black clay pipe. He stood in front of
+Bertie, and inspected him from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He don't look exactly well, not by any means he don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stout man grinned. Bertie staggered. The sudden change from
+the sweet, fresh air to the hot, close room gave him a sudden
+qualm. If the stout man had not caught him he would have fallen
+to the floor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady! Where do you think you're coming to? You're a nice
+young chap, you are! If I was you I'd turn teetotal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sam Slater interfered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't know anything at all about it; he's not been
+drinking; he's been got at, and some one's cleared him of his
+cash.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You leave him to me, Jenkins,&quot; said the stout lady.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For Bertie had swooned. As easily as though he had been a baby,
+instead of being the great lad that he was, she lifted him and
+carried him to another room. When he opened his eyes again he
+found that he was lying on a brilliantly counterpaned bed. Sam
+was seated on the edge, the lady was standing by the side, and
+Mr. Jenkins, a steaming tumbler in his hand, was leaning over
+the rail at his head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Better?&quot; inquired the lady, perceiving that his eyes were
+open.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer Bertie sat up and looked about him. It was a little
+room, smaller than the other, and cooler, owing to the absence
+of a fire.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Take a swig of this; that'll do you good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins held the steaming tumbler towards him. Bertie
+shrank away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's only peppermint, made with my own hands, so I can
+guarantee it's good. A barrel of it wouldn't do you harm. Drink
+up, sonny!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus urged by the lady, he took the glass and drank. It
+certainly revived him, making him feel less dull and heavy; but
+a curious sense of excitement came instead. In the state in
+which he was even peppermint had a tendency to fly to his head.
+Perceiving his altered looks the lady went on,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Didn't I tell you it would do you good? Now you feel another
+man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then she continued, in a tone which Bertie, if he had the
+senses about him, would have called wheedling--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anybody can see that you're a gentleman, and not used to such
+a place as this. You are a little gentleman, ain't you now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie took another drink before he replied. The steaming hot
+peppermint was restoring him to his former heroic state of
+mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should think I am a gentleman; I should like to see anybody
+say I wasn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Either this remark, or the manner of its delivery, made Mr.
+Jenkins laugh.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh lor!&quot; he said, &quot;here's a three-foot-sixer!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind him, my dear,&quot; observed the lady, &quot;he knows no
+better. I knows a gentleman when I sees one, and directly I set
+eyes on you I says, 'he's a gentleman he is.' And did they rob
+you of your money?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Some one's robbed me of five pounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was not said in quite such a heroic tone as the former
+remark. The memory of that five pounds haunted him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor, dear, young gentleman, think of that now. And was the
+money your own, my dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whose do you think it was? Do you think I stole it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Under the influence of the peppermint, or harassed by the
+memory of his loss, Bertie positively scowled at the lady.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear no, young gentlemen never steals. Five pounds! and all
+his own; and lost it too! What thieves this world has got!
+Dear, dear, now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lady paused, possibly overcome by her sympathy with the
+lad's misfortune. Behind his back she interchanged a glance
+with Mr. Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins, apparently wishing to say
+something, but not being able to find the words to say it with,
+put his hand to his mouth and coughed. Sam Slater stared at
+Bertie with a look of undisguised contempt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You must be a green hand to let 'em turn you inside out like
+that. If I had five pounds--which I ain't never likely to have!
+more's the pity--I'd look 'em up and down just once or twice
+before I'd let 'em walk off with it like that. I wonder if your
+mother knows you're out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My mother doesn't know anything at all about it; I've run away
+from school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Under ordinary circumstances Bertie would have confined that
+fact within his own bosom; now, with some vague idea of
+impressing his dignity upon the contemptuous Sam, he blurted it
+out. Directly the words were spoken a significant look passed
+from each of his hearers to the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear, now,&quot; said the lady. &quot;Run away from school, have you
+now? There's a brave young gentleman; and that there Sam knows
+nothing at all about it. It's more than he dare do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never had a school to run away from,&quot; murmured Sam.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did they use you very bad, my dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wasn't because of that; I wouldn't have minded how they
+used me. I ran away because I wanted to find the Land of Golden
+Dreams.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins put his hand to his mouth as if to choke what
+sounded very like a laugh; Sam stared with a look of the most
+profound amazement on his face; a faint smile even flitted
+across the lady's face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Land of Golden Dreams,&quot; said Sam. &quot;Never heard tell of
+such a place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You never heard tell of nothing,&quot; declared the lady. &quot;You
+ain't a scholar like this young gentleman. And what's the name
+of the school, my dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mecklemburg House Collegiate School.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie informed them of the name and title of Mr. Fletcher's
+educational establishment with what he intended to be his
+grandest air, with a possible intention of impressing them with
+its splendour.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a mouthful,&quot; commented Sam. &quot;Oh my eye!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lady's reception of Bertie's information was more
+courteous.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a beautiful name for a school. And where might it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's not very far from Cobham. But I don't live there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, my dear. And where do you live, my lovey?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lady became more affectionate in her titles of endearment
+as she went on. Mr. Jenkins, leaning over the head of the bed,
+listened with all his ears; but on his countenance was a
+delighted grin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I live at Upton.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Upton,&quot; said the lady, and glanced at Mr. Jenkins behind the
+bed. Mr. Jenkins winked at her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My father's a doctor; he keeps two horses and a carriage;
+everybody knows him there; he's the best doctor in the place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And is your mother alive, my dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should rather think she was, and won't she go it when she
+knows I've run away!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear now, think of that! I shouldn't be surprised if she was
+very fond of you, my dear. And I daresay, now, she'd give a
+deal of money to any one who told her where you were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should think she would. I daresay she'd give--I daresay
+she'd give----&quot; he searched his imagination for the largest sum
+of which he could think; he desired to impress his audience
+with an idea of the family importance and wealth. &quot;I daresay
+she'd give a thousand pounds.&quot; His hearers stared. &quot;But she's
+not likely to know, for there's no one to tell her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This statement seemed to tickle Mr. Jenkins and Sam so much,
+that with one accord they burst into a roar of laughter. Bertie
+glowered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind them, my lovey; it's their bad manners, they don't
+know no better. I'll soon send them away. Now, out you go,
+going on with your ridiculous nonsense, and he such a brave
+young gentleman; I'm ashamed of you;--get away, the two of
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins and Sam obediently went, stifling their laughter on
+the way. But apparently when they were outside they gave free
+vent to their sense of humour, for their peals of mirth came
+through the door.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind them, my dear; you undress yourself and get into
+bed, and have a nice long sleep, and be sure you have a friend
+in me. My name's Jenkins, lovey, Eliza Jenkins, and that there
+silly man's my husband. By the way, you haven't told me what
+your name is, my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My name's Bailey, Bertie Bailey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear now, and you're the son of the famous Dr. Bailey of
+Upton. Think of that now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She left him to think of it, for immediately after Mrs. Jenkins
+followed her husband and Sam. Bertie, left alone, hesitated for
+a moment or two as to what he should do. He tried to think, but
+thought was just then an exercise beyond his powers. The events
+of the last few hours were presented in a sort of kaleidoscopic
+picture to his mind's eye. There was nothing clear. He found a
+difficulty in realizing where he was. As he looked round the
+unfamiliar room, with its scanty furniture, and that of the
+poorest and most tawdry class, he found it difficult not to
+persuade himself that he saw it in a dream.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All the events of the day seemed to have been the incidents of
+a dream. Mecklemburg House seemed to be a house he had seen in
+a dream. He seemed to have left it in a dream. That walk along
+the moonlit road had been a walk in a dream. He had driven with
+Mr. George Washington Bankes in a dream. He had possessed five
+pounds in a dream; had lost it in a dream; had been to the
+circus in a dream; the Original Badger and his friends were the
+characters seen in a dream--a dream which had been the long
+nightmare of a day.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One thing was certain, he was sleepy; on that point he was
+clear. He could hardly keep his eyes open, and his head from
+sinking on his breast. As in a dream he lazily undressed; as in
+a dream he got into the bed; and once into the bed he was
+almost instantly wrapped in a sound and dreamless slumber.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was awoke by the sound of voices. It seemed to him that he
+had only slept five minutes, but it was broad daylight; the sun
+was shining into the room, and, almost immediately after he
+opened his eyes, the clock of Kingston church struck twelve. It
+was high noon.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But he was not yet fully roused. He lay in that delicious state
+of languor which is neither sleep nor waking. The owners of the
+voices were evidently not aware that he was even partially
+awakened. They went on talking with perfect absence of
+restraint, entirely unsuspicious of there being any listener
+near. The speakers were Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's all nonsense about the thousand pounds; a thousand pence
+will be nearer the thing; but even a thousand pence is not very
+far off a five-pound note, and a five-pound note's worth
+having.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins ceased, and Mrs. Jenkins took up the strain.
+Bertie, lying in his delightful torpor, heard it all; though he
+was not at first conscious that he was himself the theme of his
+host and hostess's conversation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He says his father keeps two horses and a carriage; he must be
+tidy off. If his mother's fond of him, she wouldn't mind paying
+liberal to hear his whereabouts. If you goes down and tells her
+how you took him in without a penny in his pockets, not so much
+as fourpence to pay for his bed--which it's against our rule to
+take in anybody who doesn't pay his money in advance--and how
+he was ill and all, there's no knowing but what she wouldn't
+pay you handsome for putting her on his track and all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's worth trying anyhow. Dr. Bailey, you say, is the name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He says his own name is Bertie Bailey, and his father's name
+is Dr. Bailey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie pricked up his ears at the sound of his name, and began
+to wonder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And his home is Upton? There don't seem no railway at this
+here Upton. Slough seems the nearest station, because I asked
+them at the booking office, and there's a tidy bit to walk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you walk it. You take a cab and drive. Make out as how
+there wasn't no time to lose, and as how you thought the
+mother's heart was a longing for her son. Do the thing in
+style. If there don't nothing else come of it they'll have to
+pay your expenses handsome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not going all that way for my expenses, so I'll let them
+know! They'll have to make it worth my while before I tell them
+where to lay their finger on the kid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie wondered more and more. He still lay motionless, but by
+now he was wide awake. It dawned upon him what was the meaning
+of the conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were apparently about
+to take advantage of his incautious frankness to betray him for
+the sake of a reward. He had a dim recollection of having
+blurted out more than he intended; and, on the strength of the
+information he had thus obtained, Mr. Jenkins was going to pay
+a little visit to his home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you be afraid,&quot; went on the lady, &quot;I tell you they'll
+pay up handsome. You and me, perhaps, wouldn't make much fuss
+if one of our young 'uns was to cut and run, but gentlefolks is
+different. It isn't likely that a lady can like the thought of
+a boy of hers knocking about in the gutter, and trying his luck
+in the ditch. Just you put your hat on, and you go straight to
+this here Upton, and you see if it isn't the best day's work
+you've ever done. I'll go fast enough, if you've not started
+soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins did not seem to like this idea at all; his tone was
+a little sulky.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't put yourself out, Eliza; I'm a-going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then why don't you go, instead of standing wool gathering
+there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't know his address. What am I to ask for when I get to
+this here Upton?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, ask for Dr. Bailey; it's only a little place. You'll find
+he's as well known as the church clock, and perhaps better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And about the boy; what are you going to do when he wakes up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll look after him. Don't you trouble your head about the
+boy; you'll find him here when you come back as safe as
+houses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, Eliza, I'm off; and by to-night, I shouldn't be
+surprised if Master Bertie Bailey, Esquire, was returned to his
+fond parent's arms.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His tone was jocular; but the expression of his countenance was
+not exactly genial when Master Bertie Bailey sat up in bed, as
+he did at this identical moment, and looked his host and
+hostess in the face.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XIII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">IN PETERSHAM PARK</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked at Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins
+looked at him, and husband and wife looked at one another.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And have you had a nice sleep, my dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie vouchsafed no reply to the lady's question, continuing
+to look at her with his characteristically dogged look in his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And how long have you been awake, my dear? Have you only just
+now woke?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie threw the clothes from off him, and turned to Mr.
+Jenkins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't go home, even if you do go and tell my mother, you old
+sneak!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This uncomplimentary epithet was applied to Mr. Jenkins with
+such sullen ferocity, that that gentleman started and looked
+even more discomfited than he had done before. Bertie got out
+of bed and stood upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Give me my clothes, and let me go; you've no right to keep me
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Jenkins was apparently speechless, but his quicker-witted
+wife was voluble enough.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly, my dear. No one wants to keep you, lovey. You pay
+us what you owe and you're as free as the air!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't owe you anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not anything for a young gentleman like you; it's only six
+shillings, my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Six shillings!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, six shillings. Would you like your bill, my dear?
+Jenkins, go and get the young gentleman his bill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a lot of thieves!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, thieves are we? Very well, if you like to think us so, my
+dear. But I shouldn't have thought that a young gentleman like
+you would have liked to rob poor people of the money he owes
+for his board and lodging. And if you talk about thieves, my
+dear, Jenkins will go for a policeman, and a policeman will
+soon show you who's the thief, if you don't pay us what you
+owe, my lovey. And I shouldn't be surprised if, when he heard
+as how you'd runned away, the policeman wasn't to take and lock
+you up at once, my pet. Now, Jenkins, you come along with me,
+and while I makes up the young gentleman's bill you go and
+fetch a policeman, because as he thinks we're thieves, he do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While the lady delivered herself of this voluble string of
+observations she had gradually approached the door. Before
+Bertie had perceived her design, she had pushed her husband
+through the door, and was through herself; the door was shut,
+the key turned in the lock, and Bertie was a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now we'll see who's thieves!&quot; the lady was heard to observe
+outside. &quot;Now, Jenkins, you go and get a policeman this instant
+minute, and mind you bring a good big one, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Very few boys would be so foolish as to, what is rather
+erroneously termed run away; sneak away would perhaps be the
+correct phrase. If in any given million we were to put it that
+there is one such being, we should perhaps be stating a larger
+average than actually exists. But we may be pretty sure, that
+for even that young gentleman the adventures which had befallen
+Bertie Bailey at the very outset would have been quite
+sufficient; he would have devoted the small remainder of his
+energies to running, <i>i.e</i>., sneaking, back again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie Bailey was made of sterner stuff; he was of those
+young gentlemen who have to learn their lessons a good many
+times over before they can get the meaning of what they have
+learnt into their heads. Those who reach the end of this story
+will find that he did learn his lesson to the end, and that it
+was a terrible lesson too, but the ending was not yet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So soon as he understood that he was a prisoner, Bertie cast
+about for some method of escape. In his heart he could not but
+allow that the commencement of his journey had not been so
+successful as he had intended that it should be. But he was
+naturally slow to admit a failure. And to think that the
+ingenious Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins should make capital out of his
+misfortunes; that was an idea he by no means relished.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fortunately, the lady had left his clothes behind. It occurred
+to Bertie that she might perceive her error and return to fetch
+them. To prevent any likelihood of that he put them on. Then he
+looked about to find a path to freedom.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The window immediately caught his eye. It was a very little
+one, in the fashion of a double lattice, which opened outwards.
+But Bertie resolved that it was large enough for him. He opened
+it carefully and peeped out. It was apparently a window at the
+side of the house, looking out upon a narrow passage-way.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins known the character of their guest,
+they would never have been so foolish as to think the bird was
+safe while he had the command of that convenient window. It was
+only some ten or twelve feet above the ground, and to Bertie
+the drop was nothing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He lost no time in putting it to the test. First peering up and
+down the narrow passage, to see that no one was in sight and
+that no other window commanded a view of his operations, he
+brought the only chair the room contained up to the window and
+commenced to climb through it, feet foremost. The operation was
+a delicate one, but the size of the window precluded any other
+mode of egress. Even as it was, when he was about half way
+through he discovered that he was stuck fast. For a few
+disagreeable moments he feared that he would have to remain in
+that uncomfortable position till Mrs. Jenkins returned to
+secure her prey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He wriggled and twisted, but for a time in vain. Suddenly,
+however, he did more than he intended; for the result of a
+desperate effort was to precipitate him so rapidly backwards
+that he was only just able to grasp the old-fashioned, narrow,
+wooden window sill with his right hand in time to prevent
+himself from falling in a heap upon the ground. He hung for a
+second, to give himself chance to recover from the shock, then
+he loosened his hold, and, dropping, alighted on his feet upon
+the ground; and no sooner was he on the ground than, without
+waiting to see if there was any one about, he dashed helter
+skelter down the passage at the top of his speed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was not pursued. On that point his mind was soon at rest.
+Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were probably too much engaged with other
+matters to think of the possibility of their guest effecting
+his escape. The passage led, by a succession of devious
+turnings, into the Richmond Road. When he reached the main
+thoroughfare Bertie ceased to run.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Under the railway arch, past the shops, past the cricket field,
+into the lanes beyond, went Bertie. He had had nothing to eat
+that morning, he had not a farthing in his pocket; he had no
+conception where money was to come from unless it tumbled from
+the skies; yet he went unhesitatingly forward, as though all
+the world was at his feet, and all its wealth was in his
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Past Ham Common into Petersham, and now he began to think that
+perhaps he was a little hungry. Delicious recollections of the
+morning meal of yesterday floated through his mind. A dish of
+ham and eggs he would have welcomed as a dish worthy of the
+gods; but there were no ham and eggs for him just then.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The road was dusty; the previous rains had disappeared, and the
+mud was turned to dust. By the time he reached Bute House he
+had made up his mind that the dust and heat combined were a
+little more than he quite relished. By then, too, he had no
+doubt but that he was hungry and thirsty too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Suddenly the sound of voices fell upon his ear; of children's
+voices, of their laughter, of their cries of pleasure as they
+called to one another. He looked through the rails into
+Petersham Park. The park was full of children. There was some
+huge school treat, and in hundreds they were passing here and
+there. Up the hill, and along the valley, among the trees, and
+in the nooks and dells, as far as the eye could penetrate,
+there were children moving. He entered, and advancing some
+distance from the outer wall, he lay down upon the grass.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he had lain there some time there were races started.
+Little boys and big raced for prizes. Those in charge of the
+multitude of children arranged the sports.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here's a race for a shilling!&quot; shouted one such person
+in authority. He held a leather bag above his head. There
+was a shout from the boys who crowded round him. The prize
+was of unusual magnitude. All the prizes seemed to be in
+money,--twopence, threepence, fourpence had been their value
+until now--and no sooner were they won than the winners rushed
+to spend their prizes at the stalls of fruit and sweets, the
+proprietors of which plied a roaring trade. When the race for a
+shilling was announced there was a shout from a multitude of
+throats.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, why don't you have a try to win? you're big enough.
+Lying there as if you're half asleep; jump up, and show them
+how fast your feet can travel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A young man was standing by Bertie, looking down at him,
+evidently unaware that he was not an original member of the
+noisy crowd.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Jump up! Why don't you go in for the race? Are you ill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not ill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without another word Bertie got up and joined the host of boys
+who were preparing to run. There were probably a hundred, and
+the directors of the sports had considerable difficulty in
+arranging a fair start. The race was confined to the bigger
+ones; there were no starts allowed, and they were all supposed
+to start from the same line. But the competitors had not the
+nicest sense of honour, and each endeavoured to steal a yard
+from his friend. Finally they were got into something like a
+proper line.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The distance to be run was about two hundred yards. The course
+was not a very regular one, as some were up the hill, and some
+were down; the breadth of the level ground was not sufficient
+to contain them all. Two persons stood in a line to mark the
+winning-post, and between them they stretched a cord. The one
+on the right held the shilling in a bag.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Several false starts were made. In their anxiety to be first
+the competitors could not manage to stand still. Half a dozen
+times they broke away, and had to be called back again. At last
+they were off. The course was from the park and towards the
+road, the winning-post being about a dozen yards from the
+school house at the gate.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The race was short, and, so far as the majority of the
+competitors were concerned, by no means sharp. Quite a third
+were out of it in the first six yards; half the remainder were
+beaten in a dozen, and before half the distance was covered
+there were only four or five who had a chance of winning. Among
+these was Bailey. He was not over fast on his feet as a rule,
+but never had the inducement to make the best possible speed
+been so strong before. He was running for his dinner, and, for
+all he knew, his tea and supper too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the last fifty yards the race resolved itself into a
+struggle of three. In front was a tall, lanky boy, who, so far
+as length of limb was concerned, ought to have left the others
+at the post. But his condition was not equal to his build; he
+went puffing and panting along. Obviously it would take him all
+he knew to last it out. About a couple of yards behind him, and
+almost side by side with Bertie, was a slightly-built lad, who
+was straining every nerve to keep his place. The freshest of
+the three was Bailey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yet the lanky youth looked like winning. He lumbered and
+blundered along, but his long legs enabled him to cover at a
+single stride the ground which they had to take two steps to
+cover. The boy by Bertie's side had just given up the struggle
+with a gasp, when the lanky lad caught his foot in a hole and
+went headlong to the ground. Like a flash Bertie put on a spurt
+and dashed victorious in. The prize-holder held out the leather
+bag, and Bertie caught it as he passed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the lanky youth, disappointed in his expectations, having
+puffed himself for nothing, beheld the reward of his endeavours
+snatched from his grasp with a burning sense of injury.
+Struggling to his feet he gave his emotions words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It ain't fair! Who's he? He ain't one of us! He's a stranger!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instantly the words were caught up by a host of disappointed
+competitors.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's a stranger! What's he want running races along with us?
+and winning of the prizes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The individual who had so hastily yielded up the reward of
+victory, turned to Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aren't you one of our boys?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie did not wait to give an answer. The shilling of
+which he had gained possession meant so much to him, that he
+instinctively felt that to wait to explain exactly who he was
+would be a waste of time. He had been told to run, he had run,
+he had fairly won, he had been handed the shilling as his by
+right; it meant dinner, supper, everything to him; he was not
+going to stop to argue the point as to who he was. So when the
+over hasty-individual put the question to him, his only answer
+was to take to his heels and run.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instantly a crowd was after him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stop him! stop him! He's a stranger! He's not one of us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But if he had run fast before, he ran faster now. He was
+through the gate before any one was near him, dashing across
+the road, and under the shadow of the &quot;Star and Garter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the chase was relinquished almost as soon as it was begun.
+The person who had held the shilling stopped it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind, boys; he won the race, so let him take the prize.
+Perhaps he wants it more than we do. I daresay we can find
+another shilling, and next time we'll be a little more
+particular.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The crowd returned into the park again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie pursued his way. When he saw that the chase had stopped
+he slowed a little, soon contenting himself with rapid walking.
+He was very hot; the perspiration stood in great beads upon his
+face; his clothing had an inclination to stick to his limbs.
+And he was very thirsty; his throat was parched and dry. He was
+hungry too; his long abstinence began to tell; he felt he could
+not go much farther without something to eat and drink.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Along the Lower Road, past Petersham fields, past Buccleuch
+House, into Richmond town. The town was crowded. The afternoon
+was well advanced. The fine weather had brought people out into
+the streets. Hill Street and George Street were crowded with
+both pedestrians and carriages. Richmond can be both gay and
+lovely on a sunny afternoon. It was then. The untidy, dusty,
+perspiring boy looked out of place in that big bright crowd,
+made up as it was for the most part of well-dressed people.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Once or twice he stopped and looked into the confectioners'
+shops, but from their appearance they were evidently beyond his
+means. If he had only been still the possessor of five pounds
+he might have ruffled it with the best of them, but a shilling
+would not go far in those well-filled emporiums of
+confectionery and nice-looking but unsubstantial odds and ends,
+and he so hungry too. He was beginning to fear that Richmond
+was not the place for him, and that he would have to go hungry
+and thirsty, when he reached the coffee palace in the Kew Road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Here he thought he might venture in; and he did. He had a
+bloater and some bread-and-butter, and a cup of coffee, and
+there was not much change left in his pocket after that. But it
+was a sufficiently hearty meal, and the choice of materials did
+credit to his judgment. He left the shop with his hunger
+satisfied, feeling brighter and fresher altogether, and with
+fivepence in his pocket clutched tightly with his right hand.
+Those coppers were exceeding precious in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He set out to walk to London. He knew that Richmond was not
+very far from London, and had a general idea that he had to
+keep straight on. He had lingered over his meal, taking his
+time and resting, and watching the other customers enjoying
+theirs, so that it was about six o'clock when he rose and went.
+A curious spirit of adventure possessed him still. The bull-dog
+nature of the boy was roused, and it was with an implicit faith
+in the future that he went straight on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Until he reached Kew Bridge all was easy sailing; there was a
+straight road, and he went straight on. But at Kew Bridge he
+pulled up, puzzled. He had crossed the river at Hampton Court,
+and again at Kingston, and apparently here was another bridge
+to cross. It seemed to him that things were getting mixed.
+Ignorant of the convolutions of the Thames, of its manifold
+twists and turns, he began to wonder whether he had not after
+all gone wrong, when he found the river in front of him again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By the bridge lingered two or three of the flower-sellers who
+haunt the neighbourhood of Kew Gardens. He addressed himself to
+one of them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Am I right for London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course you is, over the bridge, turn to the right, and go
+straight on. Won't you buy a bookay? Only this one left; ain't
+sold none all day,--flowers only just fresh,--only sixpence,
+sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man kept up by Bertie's side, supported by one or two of
+his colleagues, proffering their wares.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't any money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't say that, sir,--I'm a poor chap, sir,--I am indeed,
+sir,--very 'ard to stand all day and not sell nothing--just
+this one, sir--you shall have it for fivepence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you I haven't any money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Leave the gentleman alone, Bill. Don't you see he's a-going
+home to his ma?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His colleagues dropped off, firing a parting shot; but the man
+whom Bertie had originally addressed kept steadily on, sticking
+close to his side. They crossed the bridge together. The sun
+was beginning to go home in the west, majestically enthroned in
+a bank of crimson clouds. The waters were tinted by his
+departing rays.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Just this one, sir--take pity on a poor chap, now do, sir--you've
+got a nice home to go to, and a ma and all, and here's me, what
+hasn't earned a copper all the day, with nothing to eat and drink,
+and not a bed to lay me 'ead upon--buy this one, sir--you shall have
+it for fourpence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't any money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They went down the bridge together, the man still sticking to
+Bertie's side.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I was a gentleman, and a poor chap came to me, and asked me
+to buy a bookay, I wouldn't tell him I'd got no money, and me a
+hard-working chap what hasn't tasted food for a couple of days,
+and hasn't seen a bed for a week--just this one, sir--you shall
+have it for threepence, and that's less than it cost me, it is
+indeed, sir--won't you have it for threepence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you I haven't any money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man stopped, allowing Bertie to wend his way alone, but his
+voice still followed after.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you haven't any money, haven't you? would you like me to
+lend you half-a-crown or a suvering? I'm sure I'm game. 'Ow
+much does your ma allow you a week? a hapenny and a smack on
+the 'ead? If I was you I'd ask your nurse to take you out in
+the pram, and buy you lollipops,--go on, you mealy-faced young
+'umbug!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie almost wished he had not asked the way, but had been
+content to blunder on unaided. The flower-seller's voice was
+peculiarly audible; the passers by were more amused than Bertie
+was. It was his first experience of the characteristic
+eloquence of a certain class of Londoner; he would have been
+content if it had been his last. He went on, feeling somewhat
+smaller in his own esteem.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Past the &quot;Star and Garter,&quot; along the Kew road, never a very
+cheerful thoroughfare. Bertie thought it particularly cheerless
+then. Through Gunnersbury, and Chiswick, and Turnham Green,
+past the green itself, past Duke's Avenue, which is already a
+caricature of its former self, and threatens to be an avenue no
+more. Past where, not so very long ago, the toll bar used to
+stand, though there is no memorial of its presence now. Past
+the carriage manufactory; past the terminus of that singular
+railway which boasts of a single carriage and a single
+engine,--said railway being two if not three miles long. Into
+King Street, Hammersmith, and when he had got so far upon his
+journey the lad began to tire.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The evening was closing in. The lamps were lighted; the shops
+were ablaze with gas; the streets were crowded. But Bertie did
+not know where he was; he was standing on strange ground. He
+wondered, rather wearily, if this were London; but after his
+recent experience with the vendor of bouquets he was afraid to
+ask. He was hungry again, and began to look into the shop
+windows with anxious eyes. Fivepence would not go far.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He tramped wearily on, right through King Street. At a
+costermonger's stall he bought a pennyworth of apples, and
+munched them as he went. His capital was now reduced to
+fourpence, and night was come, and he was on the threshold of
+the great city--that Land of Golden Dreams.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XIV</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">IN TROUBLE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Through the Broadway, along the Hammersmith Road, on, and on,
+and on. Every step he took made the next seem harder. He was
+conscious that he could hardly walk much more. The crowd, the
+lights, the strangeness of the place, confused him. He wondered
+where he was. Was this London? and was it nothing else but
+streets? and was this the Land of Golden Dreams?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he reached the Cedars, where the great pile of school
+buildings is now standing, he saw, peering through the
+railings, a little arab of the streets. To him he applied for
+information.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is this London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The urchin withdrew his head from between the two iron rails
+through which he had managed to squeeze it, and eyed his
+questioner. He was a little lad, smaller than Bertie, hatless,
+shoeless, in a ragged pair of trousers which were several sizes
+too large for him, and which were rolled up in a bunch about
+his ankles to enable him to put his feet far enough through to
+touch the ground.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, this? this 'ere? no, this ain't London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How far is it then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How far is it? what, London? It just depends what part of
+London might you be wanting?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Any part; I don't care.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The urchin whistled. His small, keen eyes had been reading his
+questioner all the time, and Bertie was conscious of a sense of
+discomfort as he observed the curious gaze. In some odd way he
+felt that this little lad was bigger and stronger, and older
+than himself; that he looked down at him, as it were, from a
+height.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Say, matey, where might you be going to? You don't look as
+though you knowed your way about, not much, you don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The cool tone of superiority irritated Bertie. Tired and weary
+as he was, and a little sick at heart, he was not going to
+allow a little shrimp like this to look down on him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you won't tell me the way, why, that's enough. I don't want
+any of your cheek.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie moved on, but the other called after him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't turn rusty, you needn't; I didn't mean no harm.
+I'm going to London, I am, and if you like you can come along
+o' me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The urchin was by his side again. Bertie looked at him with
+disgusted eyes. He had not set out upon his journey with the
+intention of travelling with such tag-rag and bobtail as this
+lad. So far the society into which he had fallen had been of an
+unfortunate kind; he had had enough of Sam Slater, and of Sam
+Slater's sort.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not going with you; I'm going by myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Alright, matey, every bloke's free to choose his pals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The urchin turned a series of catherine-wheels right under
+Bertie's nose. Then, with a whistle of unearthly shrillness, he
+set off running, and disappeared into the night. Bertie was
+left no wiser than before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He dragged along till he reached Addison Road A gentleman in
+evening dress came across the road, smoking a cigar. He was of
+middle age, irreproachably attired, with nothing of Sam Slater
+about him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you please, sir, can you tell me how far it is to London?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The gentleman stopped short, puffing at his cigar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie repeated his inquiry. For answer, the gentleman took him
+by the shoulder, led him to a neighbouring lamp-post, and
+looked him in the face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you doing here? You look respectable; you're from the
+country, aren't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie hesitated; he remembered the effect produced by his
+incautious frankness on Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Speak up; you have got a tongue, haven't you? What are you
+doing here? run away from home?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad, giving a sudden twist, freed himself from the
+gentleman's grasp, and ran off as fast as his legs could carry
+him. The stranger, puffing at his cigar as he stood under the
+lamp-post, laughed as he peered after the retreating boy. But
+Bertie, despite his weariness, still ran on. He dimly wondered,
+whether he bore about with him some outward sign by which any
+one could tell he was a runaway. He made up his mind that he
+would ask no more questions if he ran the risk of meeting such
+home thrusts in reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He wandered onwards till he reached Kensington Gardens, and
+then the Albert Hall. There was a concert going on, and the
+place was all lit up. He stared with amazement at the enormous
+building, imperfectly revealed in the darkness of the night.
+Carriages and cabs were going to and fro. Some one touched him
+on the shoulder. It was a gorgeous footman, with powdered hair,
+in splendid livery. His magnificence dazzled him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, you boy, do you know Thurloe Square?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean? are you gettin' at me? You take a message
+for me to Thurloe Square, and there'll be a bob when you get
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I don't know Thurloe Square; I'm a stranger, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A stranger, are you? Then what do you mean by standing
+there, as though you was born just over the way? Get on out of
+it! I shouldn't be surprised if you was after
+pockethandkerchiefs;--what's your little lay? I'll tell the
+policeman to keep an eye on you, telling me you don't know
+Thurloe Square;--oh yes, I jest dersay!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The footman appeared to be angry; Bertie slunk away. He crossed
+the road to the park; a gate was open; people were going in and
+out. He entered too. It looked quiet inside; perhaps there was
+grass to sit upon. He went up towards the Serpentine, and had
+not gone far when he came to a seat. On this he sat. Never was
+seat more welcome; it was ecstasy to rest. He was dimly
+conscious of what was going on; before he knew it he was fast
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Time passed; still he slept. A perfect sleep untroubled by
+dreams. Some one else approached the seat, some one in the last
+stage of raggedness, so exhausted that he seemed hardly able to
+drag one foot behind the other. He, too, sat down; he, too,
+fell fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some one else approached,--a woman with a baby and a watercress
+basket. The baby was crying faintly; the woman tried to comfort
+it, speaking to in a droning monotone:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've nothing to give you, bairn,&quot; she said; &quot;I've nothing to
+give you, bairn! God help us all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A policeman came along. When he reached the seat he stopped,
+and flashed the bull's-eye lantern in the faces of the
+sleepers. The woman woke up instantly, perhaps used to such a
+visitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going, sir; I only sat down for a moment to rest awhile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The baby began to cry again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've nothing to give you, bairn,&quot; she said; &quot;I've nothing to
+give you, bairn! God help us all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It seemed to be a stereotyped form of speech. She got up, with
+the baby and her basket, and walked away, the baby crying as
+she went. The policeman remained behind, flashing his
+bull's-eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, this won't do, you know; wake up, you two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He took the ragged sleeper by the shoulder, and shook him; he
+seemed to wake in a kind of stupor, and staggered off without a
+word. The policeman turned to Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad woke with a start; he thought some one was playing
+tricks with him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you want?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I want you to clear out of this, that's what I want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Opening his eyes Bertie was for a moment dazzled by the glaring
+light; then he saw at the back the policeman's form, looming
+grim and awful. Possessed by a sudden fear, he sprang to his
+feet, and ran as for his life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now I wonder what you've been up to?&quot; murmured the policeman.
+&quot;I don't remember seeing your face before; I should say you was
+a new hand, you was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie ran, without knowing where he was running to; across the
+road, under a rail. He found himself upon the grass. It was
+quite dark, mysterious, strange. He could hardly be followed
+there, so he thought at least, and strolled more slowly on. But
+he was very tired still, and, yielding to his weariness, when
+he had gone a little farther, he sat down upon the grass to
+rest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And this was the Land of Golden Dreams! this was his entrance
+into the promised land! A gentle breeze murmured through the
+night; there was a sound as of rippling grass and of rustling
+leaves; he could see no stars; a heavy dew was falling; the
+grass was damp; it was chilly; the breeze blew cold; he
+shivered with hunger and with cold. His head was nodding on his
+breast; almost unconsciously he lay full length upon the sodden
+grass, and again fell fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But this time it was not a dreamless slumber; it was a
+continued nightmare. He was oppressed with horrid visions, with
+continuous strugglings against hideous forms of terror.
+Unrefreshed he woke. It was broad day; but there had come a
+sudden change of weather, the skies were overcast and dull. His
+limbs were aching; he was stiff, and wet, and cold; he was
+soaked to the skin; his clothes stuck to his body. Shivering,
+he struggled to his feet, rising with pain. The place was
+deserted. Three was a solitary horseman in the distance; the
+horseman and the lad were the only living things in sight.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It began to drizzle; the wind had risen; it whistled in the
+air. The fine weather had departed as though never to return.
+Bertie's teeth were chattering; he felt dull and stupid,
+ignorant of what he ought to do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He began walking through the rain across the grass. How cold he
+was, and oh! how hungry. He must have something to eat, and
+something warm to drink. He thought of his money; he felt for
+his fourpence; it was gone!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The discovery stunned him. He could not realize the fact at
+once, but searched in each of his pockets laboriously, one
+after the other. He turned them inside out; felt for holes
+through which it might have fallen. He remembered that he had
+put it in the right hand pocket of his trousers; he examined it
+again and again, in a sort of stupor. In vain; it was gone!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He retraced his steps. It might have fallen out of his pockets
+in the night; he fell upon his knees and searched. There was no
+sign of it about. He was without a sou, and he was so hungry
+and so cold, and it was raining, and he was wet to the skin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He could not realize his loss. He wandered stupidly on,
+stopping at times, feeling in his pockets again and again. It
+could not be gone. But there was no money there. This was his
+Land of Golden Dreams; this was the object of his journey; this
+was the result of his dash into the world; he was cold, and he
+was hungry, and he saw no signs of anything to eat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last he left the park behind. He went out by the Piccadilly
+gate, as miserable a figure as any to be seen, stained with
+mud, soaked with wet, hungry and forlorn. It was early. The
+early omnibuses were bringing crowds of business men to town.
+The drivers were muffled in their mackintoshes, the outside
+passengers crouched beneath their umbrellas. Everything and
+every one looked cold, and miserable, and wet; Bertie looked
+worst of all, for he looked hungry too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">How hungry! There had been moments at Mecklemburg House when
+hunger had made itself felt, but never hunger such as this.
+The very worst meal Mr. Fletcher had ever set before his
+pupils--and his system of dietary was not his strongest
+point--Bertie would have welcomed as a feast. Even a dry
+crust of stale bread would have been welcome; a cup of the
+wishy-washiest tea would have been nectar of the gods.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was footsore too. As he wandered by the Piccadilly mansions
+and approached the shops, he became conscious that his feet
+were blistered. It was a discomfort to be obliged to put them
+to the ground. His right foot, in particular, had a blister on
+the heel, and another on the ball of the foot. It seemed to him
+that every moment these were getting larger. He would have
+liked to have taken his boot and sock off and examine his
+injuries. He was aware, too, that he was dirty; more than two
+days had passed since he had come in contact with soap and
+water. Once upon a time he had had a vague idea that it was a
+glorious sport of the heroic character to be dirty; now he
+would have liked to have had a wash. But he could neither wash
+nor examine his feet in the middle of Piccadilly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The presence of the shops caused him an additional pang. The
+display of costly goods in their windows seemed to add to his
+misery. Even the possession of his fourpence, as compared to
+the value of such treasures, would have placed him at a
+disadvantage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But without it he was poor indeed. He was fascinated by the
+fruit shops; all the fruits of the earth, those in season and
+those out, seemed gathered there. He glued his nose to the
+window and looked and longed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, what are you doing there? move on out of that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A policeman, in a shiny cape, from which the wet was dripping,
+roughly shouldered him on. He was not even allowed to look.
+This was not at all the sort of thing he had expected. His idea
+of his entry into the great city had been altogether different.
+He was to come as the king of boys, if not of men; as something
+remarkable, as a heaven-born conqueror; something to be talked
+of; the centre of all eyes directly he was seen. To sleep upon
+the sodden grass, to be penniless, cold, wet, and hungry, to be
+shouldered by policemen, to be bidden to move on, these things
+had not entered into his calculations when that night at
+Mecklemburg House he had dreamed those golden dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He struggled on; his feet became more painful; he was limping;
+rest he must. He turned down a bye-street, and then down a
+friendly entry, and leaned against the wall. Was this what he
+had come for, to lean in the rain against a wall, and to be
+thankful for the chance of leaning? He had not read in lives of
+Robin Hood, and Turpin, and Crusoe, and Jack the Giant-Killer,
+of episodes like this. But then, perhaps, his acquaintance with
+the histories of those gentlemen was not so perfect as it might
+have been.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Suddenly he heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.
+Some one was coming along the side-street as though racing for
+his life. A lad about his own age came darting round the corner
+in such terrific haste that he almost ran into Bertie's arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Catch hold! here's a present for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The runner gasped out the words, without pausing in his flight.
+Like an arrow from a bow he darted on, leaving Bertie standing
+there. To his amazement Bailey found that he had thrust
+something in his hand; his surprise was intensified when he
+discovered what it was,--it was a purse. The runner had turned
+another corner and was already out of sight.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie, in his bewilderment, could do nothing else but gaze.
+Such unexpected generosity, coming at such a moment, was so
+astonishing that it was almost as though the gift had fallen
+from the skies. A good fat purse! It was like the stories after
+all. He could feel that it was heavy; he almost thought that he
+could feel that it was full. Suppose it were full of gold! Had
+it fallen from the skies?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All this occupied an instant. The next he was conscious that
+some one else was coming up the street; apparently some one
+else in equal haste; apparently more than one. Cries rang in
+his ears; he could not quite distinguish the words which were
+shouted, but at their sound, for some reason, a cold chill went
+down his back.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some one came round the corner; some one who seized him as
+though he were some wild thing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Got you, have I! thought you'd double, did you, and slip out
+when I'd run past? Artful, but it didn't quite do,--not this
+time, at any rate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His captor shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. It was a
+policeman, a huge, bearded fellow, six feet high. Bertie was
+like a plaything in his hands. On hearing some one coming, the
+boy, without any thought of what he was doing, had slipped the
+hand which held the purse behind his back. The policeman was
+down on it at once.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that you've got there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He twisted the boy round, revealing the hand which held the
+purse. He took it away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, that's it, is it? You hadn't got time to throw it away, I
+suppose, or perhaps you thought it was too good to lose--worth
+running a little risk for, eh? Well, you've run the risk just
+once too often.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By this time others had come into the entry, and now Bertie
+recognised the words which he had heard. What they had been
+shouting was, &quot;Stop thief!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The new comers showed a lively interest in the captive. A man,
+who looked like a respectable mechanic, reckoned him up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's not the boy,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, isn't it? It doesn't look like it, not when he was hiding
+here, and holding the purse in his hand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The policeman held up the purse with an air of smiling scorn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Had he got the purse? Well, whether he had or whether he
+hadn't, all I can say is he isn't the boy who took it; I'm
+willing to take my oath to that. He was a different-looking
+sort of boy altogether, and I was standing as close to him as I
+am to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never took the purse,&quot; said Bertie, with dogged lips and
+dogged eyes. He realized that great trouble had come upon him,
+as he writhed and twisted in the policeman's hand. &quot;It was
+given to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I daresay, and by a particular friend, no doubt. You come
+along with me, my lad, and tell that tale elsewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The policeman began to drag the lad along the entry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The boy will go quietly, I daresay, if you give him a chance,&quot;
+observed the man who had previously spoken. &quot;However it may be
+about the purse being found upon him, I'm prepared to prove
+that that's not the boy who took it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you can come and give your evidence, can't you? It's no
+good standing arguing here; the lad had got the purse, and I've
+got the lad, and that's quite enough for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where are you going to take him to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Marlborough Street Police Court.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, I'll come round and say what I've got to say. My
+name's William Standing,--I'm a picture framer; I'll go and
+tell my governor where I'm off to, and I'll be there as soon as
+you are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man walked away. The policeman proceeded to haul Bertie off
+with him again. The boy was speechless. He was tired, his feet
+were sore; the policeman's pace was almost more than he could
+manage. In consequence, every now and then he received a jerk,
+which all but pitched him forward on his nose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you leave the boy alone?&quot; inquired a man in the
+little crowd, which walked alongside in a sort of procession,
+whose ideas of a policeman's duty were apparently vague. &quot;He
+ain't done no 'arm to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, bless yer, if it wasn't for them little 'uns them
+policemen would have no one to collar; they daren't lay a
+finger on a man of your build, old pal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This remark, from another member of the crowd, produced a
+laugh. The original speaker was a diminutive specimen of his
+kind, whom the policeman could have carried in his arms with
+the greatest of ease.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When they regained Piccadilly they came upon the victim of the
+robbery. This was a portly, middle-aged female, who was a
+pleasant combination of mackintoshes and agitation. She was the
+centre of an interested circle, into whose sympathetic ears she
+was pouring her tale of woe. The arrival of the policeman with
+his captive created a diversion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is this the boy?&quot; inquired the constable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you got my purse?&quot; replied the lady. &quot;It contained
+thirty-seven pounds, fifteen shillings, and threepence, in two
+ten pound notes, two fives,--I've got the numbers in my
+purse,--seven pounds in gold, four of them half-sovereigns,
+fifteen shillings in silver, and a threepenny bit; and whatever
+I shall do without it I don't know. I'm the landlady of the
+'Rising Sun,' and I was going to pay my wine-merchant's bill,
+and I said to my daughter only this morning, 'Take all that
+money loose I didn't ought to do. No, Mary Ann, a cheque it
+ought to be.' But Mary Ann's that flighty, though she's
+in her thirties, though twenty-two she tries to pass herself to
+be----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The policeman endeavoured to stop the lady's flood of
+eloquence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can tell us all that when we get to the station. You'll
+have to come with me to identify the purse and charge the boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want to charge the boy, all I want is to identify the
+purse. As for the young limb of a boy, I'd like to give him a
+good banging with my unbrella, that I would!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lady shook her umbrella at the boy in a way which caused
+the crowd to laugh. But there was no laughter left in Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We can't have any banging here,&quot; said the policeman, who was
+anxious to get on. &quot;If you take my advice, you'll call a cab
+and let us all go comfortably together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Me go in a cab with a policeman and that there limb of a boy;
+not if I know it! I've kept the 'Rising Sun' respectable these
+six-and-twenty years,--sixteen years in my husband's time,--as
+respectable a man as ever breathed, though cherry brandy was
+his failing,--and ten long years a widow, and go to prison with
+a policeman and that there limb of a boy in a cab----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nobody's asked you to go to prison,&quot; said the policeman, whose
+patience was beginning to fade. &quot;I can't stand talking here all
+day. Now then, boy, best foot forward, march!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie's poor best foot was blistered, so that the policeman
+had to assist him, with occasional awkward jerks, to march to
+jail.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XV</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a meeting in Trafalgar Square that day. Some people
+thought they had a grievance, and resolved to air it. No matter
+what the grievance was; the world is very full of them, and too
+many of them are hard and stern, and old and deep, difficult to
+be removed. But the authorities had decided that this
+particular grievance should not be aired in this particular
+way; they would permit no meeting to be held in Trafalgar
+Square. The result was, contests with the police. The people
+with the grievance tried hard to air it; there were ugly
+rushes, the excitement spread, and in the neighbourhood
+adjoining there was something very like a riot.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One procession of the people with a grievance making for the
+Square, had been met by the police and turned aside. Part of
+the processioners had been turned into Piccadilly, and were
+being driven along that thoroughfare, helter skelter, just as
+the procession which escorted Bertie and his captor approached.
+The policeman saw his danger, and tried to turn aside. It was
+too late. The fugitives coming tumultuously along, and seeing
+only a single constable, made a rush in his direction.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In a moment Bertie found himself the centre of a pushing,
+yelling, struggling crowd, with the policeman holding on to him
+like grim death. Above the tumult could be distinguished the
+accents of the landlady of the &quot;Rising Sun.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm the landlady of the 'Rising Sun,' and I've kept the house
+respectable these six-and-twenty years--ten long years a widow,
+and sixteen years a respectable married woman--and it's a sin
+and a shame that a respectable female----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the crowd was no respecter of persons; the lady was hustled
+on one side, where her voice was heard no more. Bertie became
+conscious that a contest was going on for the possession of
+himself. The policeman stuck to him with extraordinary
+tenacity; with equal tenacity the crowd endeavoured to drag him
+away. Bertie suffered. Without wasting any time in inquiring as
+to the rights of the case, his new friends did their best to
+deprive the law of its prey. But they directed their efforts
+with misguided zeal. If they had left him to his fate, Bertie
+could only have suffered imprisonment at the worst; now he ran
+a risk of being drawn and quartered. They apparently did their
+best to drag his arms and legs out of their sockets; he felt
+his clothes giving way in all directions. Through all the heat
+and turmoil he felt that if this was town he preferred the
+country.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the unequal strife the constable, unsupported, was
+vanquished in the end. It was well for Bailey the end came when
+it did; if he had stuck to his prize much longer the pieces of
+a boy would have strewed the street. Some one in the crowd
+struck the constable in the face with a stick. Putting up his
+hand to ward off a second blow, Bertie was instantly snatched
+from his grasp. His capture was so unsuspected, that the two
+zealous friends who were doing their best to tear him limb from
+limb, recoiling backwards, loosed their hold, and let him fall
+upon the ground.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Get up, youngster, and hook it! The peelers will have you
+again if you don't look sharp; there's a lot of them coming
+down the street.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A workman stooped over the lad as he lay in the mud and
+assisted him to rise. He regained his feet, feeling stunned and
+bewildered. His friendly ally gave him a push, which sent him
+staggering into the thick of the crowd. It was only just in
+time to prevent the constable from catching hold of him again.
+The confusion suddenly became worse confounded.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The peelers! the peelers!&quot; was the cry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a trampling of hoofs; the crowd parted in all
+directions, each seeking safety for himself. Half a dozen
+mounted constables went galloping through.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now you cut and run! If you aren't quick about it they'll nail
+you again as sure as eggs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the friendly workman urging Bertie to flight. He did not
+need much urging, but made the best of his way through the
+crowd, the memory of the policeman's grip still upon him. No
+one tried to stop him. Every one, including apparently his
+original captor, was too much engaged in his own affairs. He
+did not wait to see what became of the landlady of the &quot;Rising
+Sun,&quot; though he seemed to hear her indignant accents above the
+tumult and the din. As fast as his wearied legs would carry him
+he tore away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All that day he had nothing to eat. He saw nothing again of the
+policeman, nor of the crowd, nor of the lady who had lost her
+purse with its thirty-seven pounds, fifteen shillings, and a
+threepenny bit. But he had been in custody; he had signalized
+his entry into the Land of Golden Dreams by being within an ace
+of jail; the thought was with him all the day. Every policeman
+he saw he shrunk away from, and every policeman seemed to
+follow his shrinking with suspicious eyes. He was in continual
+expectation of feeling a hand upon his shoulder, and another
+experience of how it felt to be dragged through the streets.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It never ceased to rain; yet the rain did not come down fast,
+but always in the same slow, persistent drizzle. It was a cold
+rain, and the wind, which every now and then became almost
+tempestuous, was cold. Every one seemed to be in a bad temper;
+there were sour faces everywhere. The drivers of the various
+vehicles quarrelled with one another, and cursed and swore.
+Pedestrians hustled each other into the gutter; each seemed to
+be persuaded that the other did his best to get into his way.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had paid three previous visits to London,--this made the
+fourth. On each of the previous occasions he had been
+accompanied by his father; this was the first time he had come
+alone. Many a time that day he wished that he had postponed his
+personal exploration till a little later on; about the middle
+of the century after next, he was persuaded, would have been
+time enough for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His first visit had been as one of a family party to see the
+pantomime. There had been a morning performance; they had left
+home early in the morning, returning late at night. That day
+was a red-letter day in Bertie's calendar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When I went to see the pantomime,&quot; was the words which formed
+a prelude to many a tale of the wondrous sights which he had
+seen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The second time he came up with father alone. The doctor had
+had some meeting to attend at the hospital at which he had
+spent his student days, and Bertie bore him company. Afterwards
+a visit had been paid to Madame Tussaud's and the Zoological
+Gardens. But the climax of the day had been the dinner at the
+restaurant in the evening before returning home. Bertie always
+thought that he had seen life when he looked backwards at that
+dinner in the after days. Champagne had accompanied that
+repast, and a band had played.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the crowning visit had been the third. A certain
+cousin--feminine--had been a member of the party, and she alone
+would have canonized the day. They had gone to the exhibition
+and dined there, and seen the illuminations, and he had told
+himself that London was a city of delights, a paradise below,
+fairyland to-day.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This point of view did not occur to him with so much force on
+this, the occasion of his fourth visit. As he struggled up and
+down the wet and greasy streets, with his blistered feet and
+his empty stomach, anything more unlike a city of delights it
+seemed to him that he had never seen. He was continually
+getting into everybody's way, always being hustled into the
+gutter, and once, when an irate elderly gentleman sent him
+flying backwards to assume a sitting posture in the centre of a
+heap of mud, everybody laughed. But it was no joke to him. The
+elderly gentleman was a little sorry when he saw what he had
+done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You oughtn't to get in my way! The police didn't ought to
+allow boys like you to hang about the streets!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That was the way he expressed his penitence, and then passed
+on. Bertie picked himself up at leisure. He was a sorry sight,
+and when the people saw the spectacle he presented they laughed
+again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I was you I'd sow seeds in that there mud you've got on
+you; it'd be as good as 'arf a hacre of ground.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was the comment of a paper-seller. He resumed his calling,
+shouting, &quot;Hecho! Fourth hedition! Hecho!&quot; But some one else
+had a word to say. This was a girl who was selling flowers for
+button-holes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You let me stick these 'ere flowers in that there sile you've
+just picked up. They'll grow like winkin'!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All this was hard enough to bear, but the worst was the hunger
+and thirst. Although it rained all day, his thirst remained
+unquenched.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Toward evening he found himself in Covent Garden. As he looked
+shyly round his hopes rose just a little. To begin with, there
+seemed shelter. If he might only be allowed to stay in this
+place all night!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the ground was vegetable refuse, ancient cabbage leaves,
+odds and ends of garbage which littered the place. If he could
+only pick up one or two of those cabbage leaves and see how far
+they would go towards staying his appetite! Surely no one could
+object to that, since they were placed there only to be thrown
+away. So he began picking up the cabbage leaves.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, what are you doing there? None of that now! Clear
+out of this, or I'll clear you out, and precious quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the sound of a strident voice Bertie trembled as though he
+had been guilty of a heinous crime. He dropped the cabbage
+leaves out of his hands again. A little man, who was apparently
+some one in authority, had suddenly appeared from behind one of
+the pillars, and was shouting at Bertie with the full force of
+his lungs. Like a frightened ewe the hero of yesterday gave a
+look round and slunk away. He was disappointed of his meal. The
+ground was evidently holy ground, and the cabbage leaves were
+evidently sacred cabbage leaves. The disappointment seemed to
+make his hunger worse. He had scarcely strength enough to slink
+away. He put his arms around one of the pillars, and, leaning
+his head against it, cried.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was what had become of all his golden dreams! Of what
+stuff are heroes made?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, young one, what's in the wind? Any one trodden on your
+precious toes? You don't seem so chirpy as some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked up through his tears to see who the speaker
+was. A little time ago to have been caught crying would have
+covered him with shame, now all shame of that sort seemed to
+have gone for ever. He vaguely feared that this was some new
+Jack-in-office again bidding him move on; but he was wrong.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The speaker was a boy about his own age; but there was
+something about him which at a very first glance showed that he
+was different from other boys. He was respectably dressed; the
+chief peculiarity about his clothing being that it seemed to
+fit him like his skin. A tighter pair of trousers surely never
+imprisoned human legs. His waistcoat fitted him without a
+crease, and it seemed that he had been made for his coat, and
+not his coat for him. He wore a billycock hat of a particularly
+knowing pattern, set rakishly upon the side of his head; a
+stand-up collar made it difficult for him to look anywhere
+except straight in front of him; and an enormous pin, set in
+the centre of a gorgeous blue necktie, made his costume quite
+complete.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Even more remarkable than his costume was his face. It has been
+said of the famous Lord Chancellor, Lord Thurlow, that no one
+could be so wise as Lord Thurlow looked; it was almost equally
+impossible that any one could be so knowing as the expression
+of his countenance declared this young gentleman to be. It was
+an unhealthy face, an unpleasant face, with something in it
+which reminded you of how Methuselah might have appeared in his
+green old age. It was never still; the eyes seemed to be all
+over the place at once; it seemed to be continually listening
+to catch the first sound of something or some one drawing near.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Down on your luck? What are you piping your eye for? Does that
+sort of thing suit your constitution? Turn round to the light,
+and let's have a look what you're like; don't keep hugging that
+pillar as though it was your ma.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Through all his misery Bertie saw that this young gentleman was
+centuries older than himself, though they had probably entered
+the world within the same twelve months. Besides, he was too
+prostrated to resist, even had he wished, and he allowed the
+other to drag him into a position in which he might study his
+features at his leisure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thought so,--directly I caught sight of your back I thought
+I knew your size. Wasn't you in Sackville Street this morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In Sackville Street?&quot; repeated Bertie vaguely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, in Sackville Street, my bonny boy. Never heard tell of
+Sackville Street before, I suppose? So I should think by the
+look of you. Wasn't it you I pitched the old girl's purse to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A light was dawning upon Bertie's mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was it you who stole the purse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other gave a quick look round, as though the question took
+him by surprise--if anything so self-possessed could be said to
+be taken by surprise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stow your cackle! Do you want to have me put away? Where do
+you live when you're at home? You must be a sharp one, though
+you do look so jolly green! I thought you'd be buckled to a
+certainty! I never expected to see you walking about as large
+as life. It gave me quite a start when I saw you hugging that
+pillar as though you loved it. How did you make tracks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was trying to collect his thoughts. This boy before him
+was a thief, a miserable hound who tried to escape the
+consequences of his own misdeeds by putting the odium of his
+crimes upon the innocent. But Bertie was alone; alone in the
+great city, hungry, thirsty, tired, wet, and cold. Human
+companionship was human companionship after all. And this boy
+looked so much more prosperous than he himself was. Yesterday
+he would have done great things; to-day he would have welcomed
+a crust of bread coming even from this thief.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The policeman wanted to lock me up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No! did he though? Funny ones those policemen are! they're
+always wanting to go locking people up. And did he cop the
+purse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He took the purse away from me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And how come you to be making love to that there pillar,
+instead of enjoying yourself in a nice warm cell? I suppose you
+didn't give the policeman one in the nose and knock him down?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We met some people in the street, and they made him let me
+go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did they though? that was kind of them! When policemen was
+making free with me I wish I was always meeting people in the
+streets who would make them interfering bobbies let me go. And
+now, who are you when you're at home? We're having quite a nice
+little conversation, ain't we, you and I? Glad I met you, quite
+a treat!&quot; He raised his hat to express his sense of the
+satisfaction which he felt. &quot;You don't look as though you were
+raised in these 'ere parts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie hung his head; he was ashamed: ashamed of many things,
+but most of all just then of the company he was in. And yet, if
+he turned this thief adrift, where else should he find a
+friend? And he was so tired, so hungry, so conscious of his own
+helplessness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You very nearly got me locked up this morning,&quot; was his
+answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, my noble marquis, wasn't it better for you to be locked
+up than me? It'll have to come, you know--if not to-morrow the
+day after.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To Bertie this view of the matter had not occurred before. It
+had not entered into his calculations that a journey to the
+Land of Golden Dreams would necessitate the process of
+locking-up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you on the cross, or only mouching around?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This inquiry was Greek to Bertie, and his questioner perceived
+that he failed to understand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a fly bloke, that you are! What's your little game? You
+haven't got a fortune in your pocket, or a marquis for a pa?
+What do you do to live? I suppose you ain't reckoning to die
+just yet awhile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I could do something, but I can't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you wish you could do something, do you, but unfortunately
+you can't! Well, you are a trial for the nerves! Have you got
+any money?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie hung his head still lower. To be despised by a thief!
+Was this the result of all his dreams?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Got any friends?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've run away from them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And here the boy broke down. Turning, and leaning against a
+pillar, he burst into a passion of tears. The other eyed him
+for a few moments, whistling beneath his breath.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's the time of day, is it? I thought you were something of
+that kind from the first, I did. What did you run away for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie could not have told him to save his life. To have told
+this thief that he had started on a journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams; that he had resolved to emulate the doings of
+his heroes, Dick Turpin, Crusoe, Jack the Giant-Killer, and
+Robin Hood! Oh, ye gods! and now to be crying against a post!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Father living?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">How well he knew that he loved his parents now! The mere
+mention of the word &quot;mother&quot; made him hysterical with woe. To
+have come within reach of his mother's loving arms, to have
+been folded to her breast! If he could only come within reach
+of her again!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other stood observing him with critical eyes, whistling all
+the time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem to have had a considerable lot of water locked up
+tight. I should think you would have bust if you hadn't had a
+chance to let it go. What are you a-howling at? Crying for your
+mammy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer Bertie turned with a sudden ferocity and struck at
+him savagely. But the blow was struck at random, and the other
+had no difficulty in avoiding it by stepping aside.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hollo! don't you come that game again, or I'll show you how to
+use a bunch of fives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie showed no further signs of fight. It had only been
+an almost childish display of passionate spite at the other's
+coarse allusion to his &quot;mammy&quot;--the mother whom he was now so
+sure he loved so well. Even the passion of his tears died away
+into a whimper. He had not strength enough to continue in a
+passion long.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you hungry?&quot; asked the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm starving!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, I've been hungry, and more than once, and it isn't nice. I
+shouldn't be surprised if you found it rather nasty, especially
+if you aren't used to it. Now, look here; let's have a look at
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He went close up to Bertie and looked him straight in the face
+with his keen, restless eyes. Bertie returned the look as well
+as he could with his tear-stained orbs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You look a game 'un, somehow; and you look grit. I suppose
+it's feeling peckish you don't like. There's a lot of talk
+about courage what's always the same, but I don't believe there
+ever was a chap who kept up his pluck upon an empty belly. I've
+been hungry more than once. Now, look here; if I take you to a
+crib I know of, and set you up in vittles and a shake-down,
+will you keep your mouth shut fast?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you mean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, you do; you're not so soft as that. If I act square
+with you, will you act square with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I always do act square,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well, then, come along; if you do, then you're the sort
+for me. I did you a bad turn this morning, now I'll do you a
+good one to make up.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XVI</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">THE CAPTAIN'S ROOM</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Trusting himself to his companion's guidance, Bertie went where
+the other chose to take him. Under ordinary circumstances he
+would have thought a good many times before he would have
+allowed himself to be led blindfold he knew not where; but
+tired, wet, cold, and so hungry, he resigned himself to
+circumstances. He could not possibly find himself in a worse
+position than his present one; at least, so it seemed to him.
+Certainly it had not been part of his plans to be a companion
+of thieves; but then nothing which had befallen him had been
+part of his plans.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His companion led him to a court within a stone's throw of
+Drury Lane, and was just about to turn the corner when
+something caught his eyes. He walked straight on, taking Bertie
+with him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a peeler. I don't want him to see me go down there; it
+isn't quite what I care for to let them gentry have their eyes
+upon my family mansion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What he meant Bertie failed to understand. He saw no one in
+sight to cause alarm, and indeed it almost seemed that his
+companion had eyes behind his head, for, as quickly appeared,
+the policeman was at their back some considerable distance off.
+They reached the entry to another court, and down this his
+companion strutted, as though he was anxious all the world
+should have their eyes upon him. But no sooner was he in than
+he slunk into a doorway.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come in here, my bonny boy, and let the gentleman go past.
+He's taking a little walk for the benefit of his health, poor
+chap. They're always taking walks, them peelers are. I wish
+they'd stop at home; I really do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A measured tramp, tramp, tramp approached. The thief put his
+hand over Bertie's mouth as though he were fearful he would
+make a sound. The policeman reached the entry, paused a moment
+as if to peer into its depths, and then passed on. When he had
+gone the thief spoke again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good-bye, dear boy; sorry to lose you, but the best of friends
+must part. Come along, my rib-stone pippin; you and me'll go
+home to tea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Satisfied that the coast was clear, the two ventured out of the
+doorway, reached the open street again, and this time turned
+without hesitation into the court which they had passed before.
+It was unlit by any lamp, and was so narrow that it was not
+difficult to believe that a man standing on a roof on one side
+of the way might, if he were an active fellow, spring with a
+single bound on to the roof on the opposite side. Fortunately
+it was not long, the whole consisting of apparently not more
+than twelve or fifteen houses. At the extreme end Bertie's
+companion stopped.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The place was a <i>cul-de-sac</i>. It ended in a dead wall. But on
+the other side of the wall towered a house of what, in such a
+neighbourhood, seemed unusual dimensions. The entrance proper
+was in another street, and the original architect had probably
+had no intention that an entry should be effected from where
+they were. In a recess in the wall, so hidden as to be
+invisible to Bertie in that light, and so placed as to appear
+to be a door opening into the last house in the court in which
+they actually stood, was an ancient wooden door, from which the
+paint had all disappeared owing to the action of time and
+weather. The two boys stood still for a moment, Bertie dimly
+wondering what was going to happen next. It seemed to him that
+he really was an actor in a dream at last--the strangest dream
+he had ever dreamed. Then the thief whistled a few lines of
+some uncouth melody in a low but singularly piercing tone. A
+pause again; then he gave four taps against the ancient wooden
+door, with a momentary pause between each one. Bertie had heard
+of mysterious methods of effecting entrances into mysterious
+houses, and had been charmed with them; but he concluded that
+they were perhaps better in theory than practice. He would not
+have liked to have been kept hanging about in the wet such an
+unconscionable length of time every time he wanted to go home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last the door was opened--just as Bertie was beginning to
+think that the mysterious proceedings would have to be all gone
+through again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's there?&quot; inquired a husky voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It seemed that after all the whistling and the tapping caution
+were required.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, mother; it's only me and a friend. Come on, Ikey;
+cut along inside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie, thus addressed as &quot;Ikey,&quot; was about to &quot;cut along
+inside,&quot; when he found the way barred by the old woman who
+acted as janitrix. She was a very unpleasant-looking old woman,
+old and grisly, and very much in want of soap and water: quite
+unpleasant-looking enough to be called a &quot;hag&quot;--and she smelt
+of gin. In her hand she carried a guttering tallow candle in a
+battered old tin candlestick. Hitherto she had held it behind
+her back, as if to conceal the presence of a light from
+passers-by. Now she raised it above her head so that its light
+might fall on Bertie's face. He thought he had never seen a
+more disagreeable-looking lady.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's the friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that to you? He's a friend of mine, and square; that's
+quite enough for you. Come along, my pippin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The answer reminded Bertie of Sam Slater. Even then he wondered
+if he had not better, after all, trust himself to the tender
+mercies of the streets; but the other did not allow much time
+for hesitation. He caught Bailey by the arm, and half led, half
+dragged him up a flight of steep stone steps. The old woman
+with the candlestick sent after them what sounded very like a
+volley of imprecations, while she closed and locked and barred
+the door.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The thief led the way into a fairly sized room, which was
+lighted by another tallow candle. The one which the old woman
+brought with her when she entered made the pair. There was no
+carpet on the floor, which was extremely dirty; a rickety deal
+table and four or five rickety chairs formed all the furniture.
+There was a bright fire burning in an antiquated fireplace,
+from which the ashes had apparently never been removed for
+months, and the atmosphere of the room was distinctly close.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What have you got to eat?&quot; asked the thief, when the old woman
+reappeared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're always ready enough to eat, but you re not so ready to
+pay for what you've eaten. You boys is all the same; you'd rob
+an old woman of her teeth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The crone tottered to a cupboard in a corner of the room. The
+allusion to her teeth was not a happy one, for a solitary fang
+which protruded from her hideous jaws seemed to be all the
+teeth she still possessed. From the cupboard she produced a
+couple of chipped plates, a loaf of bread, and a piece of
+uncooked steak, which probably weighed several pounds. The
+thief's eyes glistened at sight of it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's the tuck! Cut me off a chunk, and I'll frizzle it in
+two threes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old woman cut off a piece which weighed at least a pound
+and a half. A frying-pan was produced from some unexpected
+corner. The young rogue, disencumbering himself of his coat and
+waistcoat, immediately elected himself to the office of cook. A
+short dialogue took place between the old woman and himself
+while the cooking was going on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What luck have you had?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That means you ain't had none. Ah, Freddy, you ain't what you
+was. I've known you when you allays came home with your pockets
+full of pretty things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You ain't what you was, neither.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A pause. A savoury smell began to come from the frying-pan. The
+old woman turned her watery, bloodshot eyes to Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's your friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Them who don't ask no questions don't get told no lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's his lay?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;His lay's hitting old women in the eye; so now you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old woman shook her head, and mourned the decadence of the
+times.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, them boys! them boys! When I was a young gal there weren't
+none of them boys in them there days! Times is changed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And this steak's done! Now then, Ikey, make yourself alive and
+hand the plates.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without the interposition of a dish the steak was divided in
+the frying-pan, placed in two equal portions on the plates, and
+Bertie and the cook fell to.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Epicures have it that a steak fried is a steak spoiled. Neither
+of those who ate that one would have agreed to the truth of the
+statement then. From the way in which they disposed of it, a
+finer, juicier, or more tender steak was never known. The old
+woman produced a jug of porter to wash it down. Freddy, as the
+old woman called the thief, did far more justice to this than
+Bertie did. With the aid of the dark-coloured liquid the whole
+pound and a half of meat rapidly disappeared, and with it the
+better part of a loaf as well.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old woman sat spectator of the feast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There was a time when I could eat like that. It's over now a
+hundred years ago, but I mind it as though it were yesterday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go on! you're not a hundred years old!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm a hundred and twenty-two next Tuesday week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stared, holding a mouthful of steak suspended on his
+fork in the air. A hundred and twenty-two! What was his tale of
+years compared to that? Freddy winked at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I daresay. You were a hundred and ninety-five yesterday,
+and sixty-two this morning. It's my belief you're about five
+and twenty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Five and twenty! I daresay I look it, but I ain't. I'm more
+than that. I always did look a wild young thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Freddy roared; anything looking less like five and twenty, or a
+&quot;wild young thing,&quot; could scarcely be conceived. The old woman
+went placidly on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I remember Jacky Sheppard, and Dicky Turpin, and Tommy King;
+they were all highwaymen in my young days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose you were a highwayman's wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So I was; and they hung him the week after we were married. I
+went and saw him hung, and I've never seen a better hanging
+since. No, that I haven't. Times is changed since then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But you ain't changed. I wonder you don't marry again, a wild
+young thing like you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I ain't a marrying sort--not now I ain't. I've had ten of
+them, and that's quite enough for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lor', no! What is ten?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ten's quite enough for one young woman, and when you've been
+two hundred and ninety times in prison a woman don't feel much
+like marrying again. It takes it out of her, it do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had ended his meal. The warmth and the food had given
+the finishing touch to his previous fatigue; his head was
+already nodding on his breast. He heard the old woman talking
+as in a dream. Ten husbands! two hundred and ninety times in
+jail! Were they part of his nightmare, the things which he
+heard her say?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hollo, Ikey, you're blinking! Now then, mother, where are you
+going to put my pal? Can't you find a place where he can be
+alone?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had Bertie been sufficiently wide awake he would have seen the
+speaker wink at the old woman.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's only the captain's room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The woman's suggestion seemed to startle Freddy, and to set him
+thinking.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The captain's room? Where is the captain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How am I to know where he is or where he ain't? He don't tell
+me none of his goings on, none of you don't. He says to me he'd
+be four or five days away. That's all I know about it. Times is
+changed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Got the key?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course I've got the key.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then hand it over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old woman produced a key from a voluminous pocket in her
+dress.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Freddy, none of your tricks? He's on the square?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She pointed the key at Bertie, to show the allusion was to him.
+The young thief took the key away from her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's as square as you! Come along, Ikey! Mother, you stop
+there till I come back. I want to have a little talk to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Taking up one of the candlesticks, the lad led the way out of
+the room. Bertie staggered, rather than walked, after him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The house seemed to be very old-fashioned and very large. There
+were a curious number of staircases, and passages, and turns
+and twists, and ins and outs, and ups and downs. As Bertie
+followed his companion's lead it all seemed to him as though it
+were part of his dream; as though the house was built in the
+fashion of a maze, and he were bidden to find his way about it
+blindfold.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last he found himself in a room, the door of which he was
+vaguely conscious his companion had unlocked. Although very far
+from being luxurious, it was better furnished than the one they
+had left. There was a piece of carpet on the floor; there were
+two or three substantial-looking chairs, a horsehair couch, an
+arm-chair, a table, a chest of drawers with a looking-glass on
+top, and in the corner an old-fashioned four-poster bed with
+the curtains drawn all round. The closely-drawn dirty dimity
+curtains made one wonder if it was occupied already, but Freddy
+showed that it was not by going to it and drawing the curtains
+aside.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a bed for you, my bonny boy! The Queen ain't got a
+better bed than that in Buckingham Palace; and if you have got
+a marquis for a pa, you ain't seen a better one, I know you
+ain't. That's the captain's bed, that is, and if he was to know
+I'd made you free of it he'd have a word to say. But as he's
+gone to see his grandma, and perhaps won't be back for ever so
+long, we needn't take no count of what he says.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Tired as he was, Bertie was not by any means so prepossessed by
+the appearance of the bed as his companion seemed to be. It
+seemed to him just a trifle dirty, and more than a trifle the
+worse for wear. The beds at Mecklemburg House were even better,
+while the beds at home were things of beauty and joys for ever
+compared to this. But still it was a bed, and a bed is a bed;
+and especially was a bed a bed to him just then.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Freddy waited while he undressed. He even watched him get
+between the sheets, and drew the curtains when he was there.
+Then he went and left Bertie to sleep in peace in the captain's
+room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And he slept in peace. Just such a dreamless slumber as he had
+enjoyed in the Kingston &quot;doss-house,&quot; and it lasted at least as
+long. This young gentleman had over-calculated his strength,
+and had not supposed he would have been so quickly wearied on
+his journey to the Land of Golden Dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he awoke it was some minutes before he collected his
+thoughts sufficiently to understand his whereabouts. The
+rapidly-occurring incidents of the last day or two had
+bewildered a brain which was never very bright at best. Putting
+out his hand, he parted the curtains which hung about him like
+so many shrouds, and looked out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The room was filled with daylight; that is to say, as much
+filled as it probably ever was. The only window was a small
+one, and at such a height from the ground that Bertie would
+have needed to stand upon a chair to reach it even.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had he desired to imitate his escape from his Kingston hosts he
+would have found very much more difficulty in climbing from the
+window of the captain's room. But what interested him more than
+the peculiar position of the window was something which he saw
+on the chair beside his bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This something was some bread and cheese, a couple of saveloys,
+and some stout in a jug. On the bread was a little scrap of
+paper. He took it up, and found that on it was written,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sleep it out, old pal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was short, and to the point. It was written on bad paper
+in worse writing; but what it meant was, probably, that Freddy,
+entering with refreshments, had found Bertie wrapt in slumber,
+and being unwilling to disturb him had left him there to sleep
+it out. Bertie ate and drank, and lying back again upon the
+captain's bed prepared to act upon the hint. And he did. He
+woke once or twice in the course of the day, but each time it
+was only for a minute or two, and each time he turned round and
+went to sleep again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But at last he woke for good--or ill, as it turned out, for he
+woke to be the victim of a series of adventures which were to
+nearly cost him his life, and which were to show him, better
+than anything else possibly could have done, that he had been
+like the silly little child who plays with fire and burns
+itself with the element it does not understand. He was a young
+gentleman who required a considerable amount of teaching before
+he would consent to write himself down an ass; but he was to
+get much more than the requisite amount of teaching now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Exactly the same thing happened as at Kingston. He awoke to
+hear the sound of voices in the room; and now, as then, the
+speakers were carrying on a conversation without having the
+slightest idea that they were being overheard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At first he could not distinguish the words which were being
+spoken. He only knew that there was some one speaking. At first
+he took it for granted that the speakers were the lad who had
+brought him to the house and the old woman he had nicknamed
+&quot;Mother.&quot; But the delusion only lasted for a moment; he quickly
+perceived that the voices were voices he had never heard
+before, and that the speakers were two men. He perceived, too,
+that the day had apparently gone--he had slept it all away--and
+that the room was lighted by a lamp.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So unconscious were the speakers of there being a listener that
+they made no attempt to lower their voices; and one in
+particular spoke with a strain of intense passion in his tones.
+His were the words which were the first which Bertie heard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fifty thousand pounds! Fifty thousand pounds! Ha, ha, ha!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The speaker repeated the words over and over again, bursting
+into a peal of laughter at the end. Another voice replied--a
+colder and more measured one. The new speaker spoke with a
+strong nasal accent. Bertie was not wise enough to know that by
+his speech he betrayed himself to be that new thing in
+nationalities, a German American.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady, my friend; fifty thousand pounds in jewels are not
+fifty thousand pounds in cash, especially when the jewels are
+such as these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other went on unheeding.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Talk about punting on the Stock Exchange! There are precious
+few punters on the Stock Exchange who pick up fifty thousand
+pounds and walk off with it at a single coup.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And, also, there are very few punters on the Stock Exchange
+who would run the risk of getting penal servitude for life for
+doing it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, there's that to be considered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As you say, there's that to be considered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think they'd make it penal servitude for life?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think it extremely probable, with your past history and
+mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose it came to penal servitude for life, what then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exactly! That is the question to be asked--'What then?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Countess of Ferndale's jewels! lying on the table in front
+of me! and in my time I've run the risk of being sent to prison
+for a pocket-handkerchief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But in that case you did not run the risk, my friend, of penal
+servitude for life, eh?'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rosenheim, what are you driving at? Why do you keep harping
+upon that string? Do you think they'll nab us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They will have a very good try.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They have tried before and failed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They have also tried before and--not failed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fifty thousand pounds! The finest set of jewels in England!
+insured for fifty thousand pounds--and that's a lot less than
+they cost--and we've got the insurance policy and the jewels
+too! Ha! ha! ha! Should we present the policy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We will be generous and return them that. Or, better still, we
+will keep the policy in case that anything should happen.
+Holding it, we might make terms with some one. There have such
+things been done, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fifty thousand pounds! and they cost perhaps a hundred
+thousand in their time! Did you ever see such a necklace? Those
+diamonds remind me of fairy tales which I have read--if I were
+to put the lamp out they'd light the room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; but we will not put the lamp out, for fear some of the
+jewels should be lost--which would be a pity, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever see anything like those diamonds? See how they
+are flashing in the lamp-light--now look at them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie thought that he might as well look too. He peeped
+through the curtains of the bed to see what was going on. He
+felt a not unnatural curiosity, for what he had heard had made
+him open both his eyes and ears. Fifty thousand pounds! The
+repetition of this sum had a startling effect.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XVII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">TWO MEN AND A BOY</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a lamp on the table. The fire was lighted in the
+grate; the table was drawn close up in front of it. The couch
+was beside the table, and on it a man reclined full length. The
+head was turned towards Bertie, so that he only had a back view
+of the person lying down. He could see that he had brown hair,
+worn rather long, and that he was smoking a cigar, and that was
+all he could see.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By the table, standing so that his face was turned towards
+Bertie, was another man--evidently the impetuous speaker.
+He was about the middle height, slight, yet sinewy, with
+coal-black hair cut very short, and a dark olive skin, his face
+being concealed by neither moustache nor beard. He was holding
+something in his hands, something which he eyed with ravenous
+eyes. From his position Bertie was not able to perceive what
+this something was, but he could see that the table was
+littered with other articles, and that a roll of paper and two
+boxes of a peculiar shape lay open on the floor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dark man was holding the something in his hands in a
+variety of positions, so that he might get the full effect from
+different points of view.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever see such stones?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They are not bad, considering. Their value consists in their
+number, my dear friend. Separate stones of better quality can
+be found.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How much do you say we shall get for it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That remains to be seen. If you ask me how much it cost I
+should say, probably, altogether, twenty thousand pounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Twenty thousand pounds! The dark man was holding in his
+hand something which cost twenty thousand pounds. Curiosity
+was too much for Bertie's discretion. The magnitude of the
+sum had so startling an effect on his bump of inquisitiveness
+that before he knew it he was trying his best to see what
+surprising thing it was which had cost twenty thousand pounds.
+Half-unconsciously he quitted the security of the bed, and
+standing in his shirt bare-legged on the floor he strained his
+eyes to see.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then the dark man moved into such a position that the
+unexpected spectator was yet unable to see what it was he held.
+It was aggravating, but what followed was rather more
+aggravating still.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fancy wearing a thing like that! I wonder how I should look
+with twenty thousand pounds worth of diamonds round my neck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He put his hand up to his neck, clasping round it what seemed
+to Bertie a line of glittering light. Then he turned, probably
+with the intention of studying the effect in the looking-glass,
+and, turning, he saw Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment there was silence--silence so complete that you
+could have heard much fainter sounds than the fall of the
+proverbial pin. The man was apparently thunderstruck, as well
+he might be. He stared at the figure in the shirt as though it
+were that of one risen from the dead. As for Bertie, his feet
+seemed glued to the floor, and his tongue to the roof of his
+mouth. It suddenly dawned upon him that it would have perhaps
+been better if he had stayed in bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man was the first to regain his self-possession. It was to
+be a very long time indeed before Bertie was to be again master
+of his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What the something are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the sound of his companion's voice, the man on the sofa
+sprang to his feet as though he had been shot. He gave one
+quick glance; then, snatching up a revolver which lay upon the
+table, he fired at the frightened boy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rosenheim!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the very moment of pulling the trigger the dark man struck
+up his arm, so that the bullet was buried in the ceiling. But
+the effect upon Bertie was just as though it had penetrated his
+heart--he fell like a log.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's only a boy. You've shot him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have not shot him. That I will do in a minute or two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Bertie recovered from his swoon the dark man was bending
+over him. His companion was sitting in a chair regarding him
+with cold, staring eyes--a long, thin man, with a slight
+moustache and beard, and a peculiarly cruel cast of
+countenance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dark man was the first to address him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you've come too, have you? Perhaps it's a pity, after all.
+It'll only prolong your misery. Now stand up, put your hands
+behind your back, and look me in the face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie did as he was bid, feeling very weak and tottering on
+his feet. The dark man was perched on the edge of the table,
+holding a revolver in his hand. His companion, the long, thin
+man who sat in the chair, held a revolver too. Bertie felt that
+his position was not an agreeable one. Of one thing he was
+conscious, that the table was cleared of its contents, and that
+the roll of paper and boxes which he had noticed on the floor
+had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dark man commenced the cross-examination, handling his
+revolver in a way which was peculiarly unpleasant, as though it
+were a toy which he was anxious to have a little practice with.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look me in the face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie did as he was bid as best he could, though he found it
+difficult to meet the keen black eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He needn't look me in the face, or I'll put five shots inside
+of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was from the long, thin man. Bertie was careful not to
+show the slightest symptom of a desire to turn that way. The
+dark man went on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know what truth is? If you don't it'll be a pity,
+because if you tell me so much as the millionth part of a lie
+I'll empty my revolver into you where you stand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As if to emphasize this genial threat the dark man pointed his
+revolver point-blank at his head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm on that line. I'll empty mine inside him too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was conscious that the long, thin man was following his
+companion's lead. A couple of revolvers were being pointed at
+him within three feet of his head. He felt more anxious to tell
+the truth, even though under difficulties, than he had ever
+been in all his life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's your name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bertie Bailey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you doing here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie very certainly didn't. If he could only have undreamt
+his dreams about the Land of Golden Dreams how happy had he
+been.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you don't know. Who brought you here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Freddy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Freddy? Do you mean Faking Fred?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you please, sir, I--I don't know. The old woman called him
+Freddy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, the old woman had a finger in the pie, had she? I'll have
+a finger in her pie before I've done, and Freddy's too. So
+you've been sleeping in my bed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Please, sir, I--I didn't know it was your bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Turn round to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As this command came from the long, thin man--he had apparently
+changed his mind about being looked in the face--Bertie turned
+with the celerity with which a teetotum turns.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where do you live?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At Upton, sir.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/pg238.png" alt="A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him."><br>
+A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where's that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In Berkshire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not a thief?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--o, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his present society Bertie positively felt ashamed to own
+it. He perhaps felt that these gentlemen might resent it as a
+slight upon their profession.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you run away from home?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--es, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fu--fun, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A good thing to run away for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie felt that it was a bad thing just then, especially if
+this sort of thing might be looked upon in the light of fun.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's your father?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A doctor, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you're the son of Dr. Bailey, of Upton, in Berkshire?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--es, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Turn round again!--sharp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No one could have turned round sharper than Bertie did then.
+The dark man took up the questioning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How long have you been awake?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you hear what we were talking about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--es, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did you hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That won't do. Out with it! What did you hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The revolver was brought on a level with Bertie's face. With
+his eyes apparently doing their best to investigate the
+contents of the barrel he endeavoured to describe what he had
+heard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, and--and
+about fifty thousand pounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! you did, did you? And what did you hear about the Countess
+of Ferndale's jewels?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I heard that you had--stolen them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? You seem to be gifted with uncommonly good
+hearing, Master Bailey. What else did you hear? Go on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I heard that they were insured for fifty thousand pounds,
+and--and that--that you'd stolen the policy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear me! What a remarkably fine ear this boy must have! Go on,
+young man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was painfully conscious that these compliments upon his
+hearing were not to be taken as they were spoken. He earnestly
+wished that his hearing had not been quite so good, but with
+that revolver staring him in the face he felt that perhaps it
+was better on the whole he should go on. Yet the next
+confession was made with an effort. He felt that his audience
+would not receive it well.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I--I heard that if--if you were ta--taken you--you would
+get pe--penal servitude for life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was an ominous silence. The words had had exactly the
+effect he had intuitively expected. It was the long, thin man
+who spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! you heard that if we were caught we should get penal
+servitude for life? And it didn't occur to you that you might
+help to catch us, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No-o, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wouldn't. Now wouldn't it occur to you that such a thing as
+a reward might perhaps be offered, which it might perhaps be
+worth your while to handle, eh? That such a trifle as five or
+ten thousand pounds, in the shape of a reward, might come in
+useful, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie did not answer. He could not have answered for his life.
+The fellow's tone seemed to freeze his blood. The dark man put
+a question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you hear any names mentioned?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What name did you hear mentioned?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I heard you call this gentleman Rosenheim, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In an instant a hand was round his neck, which grasped him as
+though it were made of steel. There was a sudden twist, and Mr.
+Rosenheim had flung the lad upon his back. The grasp tightened;
+he began to choke. If Mr. Rosenheim had been allowed to work
+his own sweet will it would have been over with him there and
+then. But the dark man interfered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the use of killing him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The answer was hissed rather than spoken.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell you what's the use; it is I who will put him away,
+not he who will put me away, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Leave him alone for a minute; I want to speak to you. It's a
+nuisance, but I don't think it's so bad as you think. Anyhow,
+I don't see how we're going to gain anything by killing the
+boy--at least, not in here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a meaning conveyed in the speaker's last few words
+which Mr. Rosenheim seemed to understand. They looked at each
+other for a moment, eye to eye. Then Mr. Rosenheim, standing
+up, loosed his grasp on Bertie's throat, and the lad was free
+to breathe again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Get up; walk to the end of the room, put your hands behind
+your back, shut your eyes, and stand with your face to the
+wall. I'm going to cover you with my revolver, and if you move
+it'll be for the very last time of asking, for I'll shoot you
+as dead as mutton. Sharp's the word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sharp was the word. Bewildered, half-stunned, panic-stricken as
+he was, Bertie had still sense enough to know that he had no
+alternative but to do as he was bid. The dark man meant what he
+said, and the youthful admirer of Dick Turpin knew it. The
+ever-ready revolver covered him as he walked quickly down the
+room, and took up the ignominious position he was ordered to.
+Hands behind his back, eyes shut, and his face against the
+wall! It was worse than standing in the corner at Mecklemburg
+House Collegiate School, and only little boys had been sent
+into the corner there.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">How long he remained standing there he never knew. It seemed to
+him hours. But time goes slowly when we stand with our hands
+behind, eyes shut, face to the wall, and know that a revolver
+is taking deliberate aim at us behind our backs. A minute
+becomes an hour, and we feel that old age will overtake us
+prematurely if we stand there long. They say that when a man is
+drowning his whole life passes in a moment before his eyes. As
+Bailey stood with his face against the wall he felt something
+of that feeling too, and if ever there was a veritable Land of
+Golden Dreams his home at Upton was that land then. If he could
+only stand again within the shadow of his mother's door, ah,
+what a different young gentleman he would be!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Certainly, Mr. Rosenheim and his friend took their time. What
+they said Bertie could not hear, strain his ears how he might.
+The sound of their subdued whispering added to the terror of
+the situation. What might they not be resolving? For all he
+knew, they might be both examining their revolvers with a view
+of taking alternate pops at him. The idea was torture. As the
+moments passed and still no sign was made his imagination
+entered into details. There was a movement behind him. He
+fancied they were taking their positions. Silence again. He
+waited for the shooting to begin. He wondered where the first
+shot would hit him. Somewhere, he fancied, about the region of
+the left knee. That would probably bring him to the ground,
+and the second and third shots would hit him where he
+fell--probably in the side. The fourth and fifth shots would
+miss, but the sixth would carry away his nose, while the
+seventh would finish his career. Promiscuous shooting would
+ensue, the details of which would have no interest for him, but
+for some occult reason he decided that they would not cease
+firing until they had put inside him about a couple of pounds
+of lead.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the midst of these agreeable speculations it was a relief to
+hear the dark man's voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Turn round!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie turned round, with surprising velocity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where are your clothes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think they're on the bed, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Put them on! Sharp's the word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sharp always was the word. Bertie had done some quick things in
+dressing before to-day, but never anything quite so quick as
+that. Mr. Rosenheim was sitting in the arm-chair, still
+fondling his revolver, eyeing Bertie with a most uncomfortable
+pair of eyes. When Bertie found that in his haste he was
+putting on his trousers hind side foremost Mr. Rosenheim gave a
+start. Bertie gave one too, a cold shiver went down his back,
+and the time in which he reversed the garment and got inside
+his breeches was perhaps the best on record.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dark man meanwhile was brushing his hat, putting on his
+overcoat, and apparently preparing himself for a journey. There
+was a Gladstone bag on the table. Into this he put several
+articles which he took from the chest of drawers. Bertie had
+completed his own costume for some little time before either
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was Mr. Rosenheim who addressed him first.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie went with remarkable celerity. &quot;For a doctor's son, my
+friend, you are not too well dressed, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie hung his head; he was conscious of the defects in his
+attire. The dark man flung him a clothes-brush.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Brush yourself, and make yourself presentable. There's a jug
+and basin behind that curtain; wash yourself and brush your
+hair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie did as he was bid; never had he been so docile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the most uncomfortable toilet he had ever made. When he
+had carefully soaped his face all over, and was about to wash
+it off again, there was a report. A shot whistled through the
+air and buried itself in the wall about a foot above his head.
+He dropped as though it had struck him, and all but repeated
+his former swoon.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can get up, my friend. It is only a little practice I am
+having.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie got up, but the pleasure of that wash was destroyed for
+him. Mr. Rosenheim's ideas of revolver practice were so
+peculiar that he was in momentary terror of his aiming at an
+imaginary bull's-eye in the centre of his back.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How long are you going to be? Come here and let me have a look
+at you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Though only half-dried, the soap-suds still remaining in
+the corners of his eyes, Bertie obeyed the dark man's order
+and stood in front of him. That gentleman still held the
+too-familiar revolver in his hand. It had long been the secret
+longing of Bertie's soul to possess one of his own;
+henceforward he would hate the sight of the too-agile arm for
+evermore.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't look like a doctor's son. Own up you lied.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I didn't, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A pretty sort of doctor's son you look! Has your father any
+money?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A wild idea entered Bertie's brain. He remembered how Mr. and
+Mrs. Jenkins had risen to the bait.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir; he's very rich. He'd give a thousand pounds to
+get me back again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But this time the bait failed, and signally.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, he would, would he? Then he must be about the most
+remarkable fool of a father I ever came across. Don't you try
+to stuff your lies down my throat, my joker, because I'm a liar
+myself, and know the smell. You listen to me. You'd better;
+because if you don't listen to every word, and stick it inside
+your head, it'll be a case of shooting, though I'm hung for you
+five minutes after. Do you hear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My name's Captain Loftus. Do you hear that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I'm your uncle--your Uncle Tom. Do you hear that? I'm your
+Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't say 'sir,' say 'Uncle Tom.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, Un--Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And don't you stutter and stammer; there's no stuttering and
+stammering about this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This&quot; was the revolver which &quot;Uncle Tom&quot; pointed in his
+playful way at his nephew.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you've been a bad boy, and you've run away from your poor
+mother, and I'm going to take you back again. You understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir--I mean, Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mind you do mean 'Uncle Tom,' and don't let us have any
+fooling about it. Do you hear? Don't let's have any fooling
+about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--o, Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">How devoutly he hoped that what his &quot;uncle&quot; said was true, and
+that he was going to be taken back to his mother. But the hope
+was shattered by the words which followed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now just you listen to me. I've got half a dozen more words to
+say, and they're the pick of the lot. I'm going to take you
+with me. You'll be all right so long as you keep your mouth
+shut; but if you speak a word without permission from me, or if
+you hint anyhow at the pleasant little conversation we've had
+here, I'll shoot you on the spot. You see, I'm going to put my
+revolver into the inside pocket of my coat; it will be always
+there, and always ready for you, and mind you don't forget it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was not likely to forget it. He watched the captain
+placing the weapon in a convenient inner pocket of his overcoat
+with an interest too deep for words. Mr. Rosenheim added an
+agreeable little remark of his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You understand, my friend? You are to dismiss from your mind
+any little ideas you may have had about the Countess of
+Ferndale's jewels, or your uncle, Captain Tom Loftus, will
+practise a little revolver shooting upon you, eh, my friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Mr. Rosenheim covered the lad with his own revolver. There
+was such an absolutely diabolical grin upon the gentleman's
+face that Bertie felt as though his blood had congealed in his
+veins. The revolver might go off at any moment, and this time
+it would be a case of hitting. Bertie was persuaded that one
+more of Mr. Rosenheim's little practice shots would be quite
+enough for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The change from Mr. Rosenheim to Captain Loftus was actually a
+relief.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you ready?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--yes, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Sir?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The &quot;sir&quot; was shouted in a voice of thunder, and the captain's
+hand moved towards the inner pocket of his coat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Un--Uncle Tom, I mean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you better mean it too, and say it, or you'll never say
+another word. Put your hat on. Catch hold of that Gladstone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie put his hat on, and took the bag. The captain turned to
+Mr. Rosenheim.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good-bye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good-bye, my friend; I wish you a pleasant journey, and your
+nephew too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain put his own hat on, took Bertie's hand, led him out
+of the room, and almost before the lad knew it they were
+standing in the street. Bertie thanked his stars that at least
+Mr. Rosenheim was left behind.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XVIII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">THE BOAT-TRAIN</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">They did not leave the house by the same mysterious door by
+which Freddy had entered, but by one which brought them at once
+into a busy street. Vehicles were passing to and fro, and they
+had not gone many steps before the captain--to give him the
+title which he had not improbably himself affixed to his
+name--called a hansom. Bertie got in. The captain directed the
+driver where to drive in an undertone, seated himself beside
+his &quot;nephew,&quot; and they were off.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">During the drive not a word was spoken. Where they were going
+Bertie had not the faintest notion; he felt pretty certain that
+he was not really being taken home. His head was in a whirl; he
+was in such awe of his companion that he scarcely dared to
+move, far less to use his eyes in an endeavour to see where
+they were going. The cab almost immediately turned into a busy
+thoroughfare. The hubbub of the traffic and the confusion of
+the crowded streets completed the lad's bewilderment, making it
+seem to him as though they were journeying through pandemonium.
+The busy thoroughfare into which the cabman turned was, in
+fact, the Strand--the Strand at what is not the least busy hour
+of the day, when the people are crowding into the theatres. The
+cabman took another turn into comparative quiet, and in another
+minute they were whirling over Waterloo Bridge, along Waterloo
+Bridge Road, into the huge terminus of the South-Western
+Railway. A porter came forward to help them to alight, but the
+captain, dismissing him, took his bag with one hand, and taking
+Bertie's own hand in the other, stepped on to the platform of
+the station.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had only taken a few steps when, pulling up, he spoke to
+Bailey in low, quick, significant tones.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, my lad; I don't want to haul you about as though
+I'd got you in custody, and I don't mean to let you get out of
+my sight. I'm going to loose your hand, and let you walk alone.
+Carry this bag, and stick as close to me as wax, or----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A significant tap against the pocket which contained the
+revolver served to complete the sentence. Bertie needed no
+explanation in words; the action was as full of meaning as any
+eloquence of speech could possibly have been.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The hansom had put them down at the departure platform of the
+main-line trains. The captain looked at the station clock as
+they came in, and Bertie, following the direction of the
+other's eye, saw that it was a quarter-past nine. The station
+was full of people; porters and passengers were hurrying hither
+and thither, mountains of baggage were passing to and fro.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain turned into the booking-office, Bertie sticking
+close to his side. Some wild idea of making a dash for freedom
+did enter his mind, but to be dismissed as soon as it entered.
+What could he do? He was fully persuaded that if he were to
+make the slightest sign of attempting to escape, his companion
+would shoot him on the spot. But even if he did not proceed to
+quite such extreme lengths, what then? To have attempted to
+take to actual flight, and to have run for it, would have been
+absurd. He would have been caught in an instant. His only hope
+lay in an appeal to those around him. But what sort of appeal
+could he have made? If he had suddenly shouted, &quot;This man has
+stolen the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, worth fifty thousand
+pounds!&quot; no doubt he would have created a sensation. But the
+revolver! Bertie was quite persuaded that before he would have
+had time to have made his assertion good the captain would have
+put his threat into execution, and killed him like a cat, even
+though, to use that gentleman's own words, he had had to hang
+for it five minutes afterwards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No; it seemed to him that the only course open to him was to
+obey the captain's instructions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a crowd round the ticket-office, at sight of which
+the captain put the lad in front of him, and his hand upon his
+shoulder, holding him tight by means of the free use of an
+uncomfortable amount of pressure. Under these circumstances he
+could scarcely ask for tickets without the lad hearing what it
+was he asked for--as in fact he did.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two first for Jersey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Two first-class tickets for Jersey! The tickets were stamped
+and paid for, and they were out of the crowd again. It was some
+satisfaction to know where it was they were going, but not
+much. He was too evidently not being taken home again. Jersey
+and Upton were a good many miles apart.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain went up and down the train with the apparent
+intention of discovering a compartment which they might have
+for themselves. But if that was his intention he sought in
+vain. The tourist season had apparently set in early, and on
+this particular night the train was crowded. They finally found
+seats in a compartment in which there were already two
+passengers, and into which there quickly came two more. It was
+a smoking carriage; and as the other passengers were already
+smoking, and the captain lit a cigar as soon as he entered, the
+atmosphere soon became nice and fresh for Bertie. Five smoking
+passengers in a first-class compartment do not make things
+exactly pleasant for a non-smoking sixth. The captain took a
+corner seat; Bertie sat on the middle seat next to him, right
+in the centre of the smoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They started. All the passengers, with the exception of the
+captain and Bertie, had books or papers. For a time silence
+reigned. The passengers read, the captain thought, the lad
+lamented. If the train had only been speeding towards Slough
+instead of Jersey! It may be mentioned that at this point of
+the expedition Bertie was not even aware where Jersey was, and
+was not even conscious that to reach it from London one had to
+cross the sea.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As they passed Woking the silence was broken for a moment. A
+tall, thin, severe-looking gentleman, with side whiskers, and a
+sealskin cap tied over his ears, having finished with the
+<i>Globe</i>, handed it to the captain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you seen the <i>Globe</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, I haven't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain took it, and began to read. Almost without
+intending it Bertie watched him. For some reason, though he
+could scarcely have told what it was, for the reader gave no
+outward signs of anything of the kind, he was persuaded that
+the paper contained something which the captain found of
+startling interest. He saw the captain stare with peculiar
+fixedness at one paragraph, never taking his eyes off it for at
+least five minutes. He even thought that the captain's lips
+were twitching, that the captain's face grew pale. As if
+perceiving the inspection and resenting it, he drew the paper
+closer to him, so that it concealed his countenance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As they were nearing Aldershot and Farnham a little
+conversation was commenced which had a peculiar interest for
+Bertie, if for no one else in the compartment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the opposite corner, at the other end of the carriage, was
+seated a stout old gentleman, with a very red face and very
+white hair. He wore a gorgeous smoking-cap, which was stuck at
+the back of his head, and there was something about his
+appearance and demeanour which impressed the beholder with the
+fact that this was a gentleman of strong opinions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In front of him was a thin young gentleman with a pale face,
+who puffed at a big meerschaum pipe as though he did not
+exactly like it. He was reading a novel with a yellow back,
+which all the world could perceive was <i>The Adventures of Harry
+Lorrequer</i>. The old gentleman had been reading the <i>Evening
+Standard</i> through a pair of gold glasses of the most imposing
+size and pattern.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had apparently finished with his paper, for he lowered it
+and stared through his glasses at the thin young man in front
+of him. The thin young man did not seem to be made the more
+comfortable by his gaze.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was said in loud, magisterial tones, which commanded the
+attention of the whole compartment. The young man seemed
+startled. Bertie was startled; he almost thought he saw the
+<i>Globe</i> tremble in the captain's hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I beg your pardon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was said in tones rather louder and more magisterial than
+at first.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No! No! I haven't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, sir, I say it's a disgrace to the country.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whether it was a disgrace to the country that the thin young
+man had not heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels was
+not quite clear. The thin young man seemed to think it was, for
+he turned pink. However, the old gentleman went on,--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here's a noble lady, the wife of one of the greatest English
+peers, returning from personal attendance upon her sovereign,
+bearing with her jewels of almost priceless value, and they
+disappear from underneath her nose. I say it's a disgrace to
+the country, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The thin young man seemed relieved. It was evidently not his
+want of knowledge which was a disgrace to the country, but the
+disappearance of the lady's jewels. Bertie pricked up his ears;
+the captain gave no sign of having heard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young man ventured on a question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How's that? Have they been stolen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How's that, sir! Stolen, sir! I should think they have been
+stolen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words were spoken with almost volcanic force. All the
+carriage began to take an interest in what was being
+said--excepting always &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old gentleman grasped his paper with his right hand, and
+emphasized his words with the first finger of his left.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At half-past two this afternoon the Countess of Ferndale, who
+has been in attendance at Windsor Castle, started from Windsor
+to London. Windsor, sir, is at a distance of twenty-two miles
+from town--twenty-two miles; no more. The traffic between that
+place and London, sir, is extremely large; and yet, travelling
+on that short strip of railway, in one of Her Majesty's own
+state coaches----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think it was in one of the Queen's own coaches she was
+travelling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No; it wasn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The first interruption came from the severe-looking gentleman
+who had lent the Captain the <i>Globe</i>; the second from a
+placid-looking gentleman with black whiskers, who sat beside him
+in front of Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sir, and what difference does that make?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;None at all, perhaps, to the main issue,&quot; the severe gentleman
+allowed. &quot;It's only a statement of fact.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sir, supposing it is a statement of fact, which, as at
+present advised, I am not prepared to allow, I suppose I may
+take it for granted that she was travelling in a compartment
+which was exclusively reserved for her own use?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That, I believe, was the case.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sir, travelling on that short strip of railway, in a
+compartment exclusively reserved for her own use, what happens
+in this England of the nineteenth century? It is incredible!
+monstrous! She had with her certain family jewels of almost
+priceless value. She had been wearing them in Her Majesty's own
+presence. They were in the charge of certain officers of her
+household; and yet, when she comes to the end of that journey
+of two and twenty miles, they were gone, sir!--gone! vanished
+into air!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No! If they were stolen, he must have been a jolly clever
+thief,&quot; observed the thin young man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A jolly clever thief!&quot; said, or rather roared the stout old
+gentleman. &quot;You speak of the author of such an outrage as a
+jolly clever thief. If I had the miscreant within reach of my
+hand&quot;--the stout old gentleman stretched out his hand, and the
+thin young man shrank out of the way--&quot;I should consider myself
+justified in striking him down, and trampling the life out of
+his wretched carcass. I should consider the doer of such an act
+deserved well of his country, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie felt a cold shiver go down his back. He pictured the
+stout old gentleman striking him down, and trampling the life
+out of his wretched carcass. At that moment he almost felt as
+though he had been guilty of the crime; he almost expected the
+stout old gentleman to read his guilt upon his countenance, and
+conclude the business there and then. As for the captain--the
+least that Bertie expected him to do was to open the door and,
+without waiting for such a small detail as the stopping of the
+train, disappear into the night. What he actually did was to
+return the <i>Globe</i>, with a courteous bow, to the severe-looking
+gentleman, carefully cross his knees, and light a fresh cigar.
+Then he listened to what was being said with an air of placid
+interest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What was the value of the jewels?&quot; inquired the gentleman with
+the black whiskers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Priceless! priceless! How can you value jewels which have been
+in the possession of a noble family for generations? which are
+family heirlooms?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose they must be pretty well known, in which case the
+thieves will find considerable difficulty in getting rid of
+their spoil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Getting rid of their spoil! Is it conceivable that such
+villains are to be allowed to get rid of their spoil, to sell
+it, and fatten on the proceeds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very conceivable, indeed, unless something is done to stop
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stout old gentleman was so affected by the idea of the
+countess's jewels being brought into the market in such an
+ignoble way that words failed him, and he gasped for breath.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">During all this time Bertie's sensations were indescribable. He
+felt as though he were under the power of some hideous spell.
+He would have given anything to have been able to spring up and
+denounce the miscreant who had wrought this crime. There would
+have been something worthy of a hero in that; but he could not
+do it, he was spellbound. Perhaps the consciousness of the
+revolver which was in the captain's pocket had something to do
+with his state of mind; but it was not only that, he was
+paralysed by the position itself--by the knowledge that his own
+act had made him the companion of such a rogue.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just at the moment the captain raised his hand, as if by
+chance, and tapped the inner pocket of his coat. Slight though
+the action was, Bertie saw it, and he shuddered. But there was
+worse to follow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The remark was made by the severe-looking gentleman. .</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What strikes me is, how was the theft performed? Those in
+charge of the box swear that it was never out of their sight.
+When they started the jewels were in it; when they reached
+their journey's end they were gone. They couldn't have been
+spirited away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The boxes were changed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie felt that his heart had ceased to beat. The words were
+spoken by &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the first time he had opened his lips. The eyes of all
+in the carriage were fixed upon him. He was seated, apparently
+quite at his ease, a cigar in his mouth, one hand upon his
+knee, and, as he spoke, with the other he undid the top button
+of his overcoat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How could they be changed? Those in charge state that they
+never lost sight of the particular box in which the jewels
+were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a
+wreath of smoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have a theory of my own upon the subject.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you
+mean to tell me such a trick as that could have been played in
+the light of day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was from the stout old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was
+done. I have only suggested a theory. Of course you are at
+liberty to accept it or reject it, as you please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next
+June, and I know perfectly well that no such trick would be
+played on me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are, probably, a person of peculiar acumen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps
+you have a theory of how the robbers might be caught.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that,
+if it were made worth my while, I would engage to find the
+thieves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's
+while to find a thief?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to
+find the thieves?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I knew where they were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if
+they were found you would give them into custody, but you have
+to find them first. People don't go thief-hunting from motives
+of pure philanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it
+worth his while.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;May I ask if you are an amateur detective?&quot; inquired the
+severe-looking gentleman.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't call myself quite that,&quot; said &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing
+with crime?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It has been the study of my life,&quot; said &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose that it is a very interesting study?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very interesting indeed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has
+been your own experience that such a study improves the moral
+nature of a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite the reverse,&quot; said &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are frank.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is life unless you are?&quot; asked &quot;Uncle Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to
+slow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think this is Southampton,&quot; said the thin young man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And it was.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XIX</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">TO JERSEY WITH A THIEF</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The night's boat was the <i>Ella</i>. When the train drew to a
+standstill and the passengers got out Bertie supposed that
+their journey was at an end. His ideas as to the whereabouts of
+Jersey were very vague indeed. He was surprised, therefore,
+when the captain, taking his hand, led him along the gangway to
+the boat. The stars were shining brightly overhead, but
+midnight never is quite as light as noon, and in the uncertain
+light he could neither see nor understand where it was that
+they were going.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain led him to the hurricane deck, and then he paused.
+Then he led Bertie to a seat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This will be your bed to-night. I don't choose to go into the
+cabin, and I don't choose that you shall go without me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie sat down and wondered. Dark figures were passing to and
+fro; there were the lights on the shore; he could feel the
+throbbing of the engines; there was the unclouded sky above; he
+still was in a dream. Unfortunately the figure of the captain
+standing near turned the dream into a nightmare.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Most of the passengers went at once into their cabins. No one
+came near them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look up at me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked up. The captain, standing, looked down at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I didn't see you in the train? Do you think I
+didn't see you wanting to open your mouth and blab before all
+those fools? It would have been capital fun for you, now,
+wouldn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie shivered. The captain's ideas of fun were singular.
+Bertie would have almost given his life to have done what the
+rascal hinted at, but he would have done it in his extremity of
+agony and with no idea of fun. It would have taken a burden off
+his mind which seemed almost greater than he could bear; it
+threatened to drive him mad. But to have played the part
+suggested would have needed a touch of the heroic--a courage, a
+strength which Bertie had not got.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain went on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had half a mind to have shot you then. If you had winked
+your eye I think I should have done the trick. I have not quite
+made up my mind what I shall do with you yet. We shall soon be
+out at sea. Boys easily fall overboard at night. I shouldn't be
+surprised if you fall overboard--by accident, you understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain smiled; but Bertie's heart stood still.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now lie down upon that seat, put your head upon that bag, and
+don't you move. I shan't go out of revolver range, you may rest
+assured.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie lay down upon the seat. The captain began pacing to and
+fro. Every second or two he passed the recumbent boy. Once
+Bertie could see that he was examining the lock of the revolver
+which he was holding in his hand. He shut his eyes, trying to
+keep the sight away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What an unsatisfactory difference often exists between theory
+and practice! If there was one point in which he had been quite
+sure it was his courage. To use his own words, he had pluck
+enough for anything. To &quot;funk&quot; a thing, no matter what; to show
+the white feather under any set of conditions which could be
+possibly conceived--these things were to him impossible.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In such literature as he was acquainted with, the boy heroes
+were always heroes with a vengeance. They were gifted beings
+whose nerve was never known to fail. They fought, with a
+complete unconsciousness of there being anything unusual in
+such a line of conduct, against the most amazing odds. They
+generally conquered; but if they failed their nerves were still
+unshaken, and they would disengage themselves with perfect
+coolness from the most astounding complication of disasters.
+They never hesitated to take life or to risk it; blood was
+freely shed; they thought nothing of receiving several shots in
+the body and a sword-cut at the back of the head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As for Dick Turpin, and Robin Hood, and Robinson Crusoe, and
+Jack the Giant-Killer--all the world knows that they went
+through adventures which makes the hair stand up on end only to
+read of, and through them all they never winced. Bertie was
+modestly conscious that these gentlemen were perhaps a little
+above his reach--just a little, perhaps; but what the
+aforementioned boys had done he had thought that he himself
+could do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yet here he was, lying upon a seat and shutting his eyes to
+prevent him from seeing a revolver. Why, one of those heroic
+boys would have faced the whole six shots and never trembled!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The steamer started, and so did Bertie. Taken by surprise by
+the sudden movement, he raised himself a little on the seat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Keep still!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain's voice came cool and clear. Bertie returned to his
+former position, not pausing to consider what his heroes would
+have done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you want to move you must first ask my permission; but
+don't you move without it, my young friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie offered no remonstrance. The seat was not a comfortable
+one to lie upon. It was one of those which are found in
+steamers, formed of rails, with a space between each rail.
+Possibly when they reached the open sea it would be less
+comfortable still. But Bertie lay quite quiet, and never said a
+word. It was not exactly what his heroes would have done. They
+would have faced the villain, and dared him to do his worst;
+and when he had done his worst, and sent six shots inside them,
+with a single bound they would have grasped him by the throat,
+and with a laugh of triumph have flung him head foremost into
+the gurgling sea.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie did not do that.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So long as they remained in the river one or two of the
+passengers still continued to move about the decks. The night
+was so glorious that they probably thought it a pity to confine
+themselves in the stifling cabins. But by degrees, one after
+the other, they disappeared, until finally the decks were left
+in possession of the captain and Bertie, and those whose duty
+it was to keep watch at night.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although they had passed Hurst Castle and reached the open sea,
+the weather was so calm that hardly any difference was
+perceptible in the motion of the vessel. Bertie still lay on
+the seat, looking at the stars.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had no inclination to sleep, and even had he had such
+inclination, not improbably the neighbourhood of &quot;Uncle Tom&quot;
+and his revolver would have banished slumber from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was not a sentimental boy. Sentimental boys are oftener
+found in books than life. But even unsentimental boys are
+accessible to sentiment at times. He was not a religious boy.
+Simple candour compels the statement that the average boy is
+not religious. But that night, lying on the deck, looking up at
+that wondrous canopy of stars, conscious of what had brought
+him there, aware of his danger, ignorant of the fate which was
+in store for him, knowing that for all he could tell just ahead
+of him lay instant death, he would have been more or less than
+boy if his thoughts had not strayed to unwonted themes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Through God's beautiful world, across His wondrous sea--the
+companion of a thief. Bertie's thoughts travelled homewards. A
+sudden flood of memories swept over him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All at once the captain paused in front of him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I throw you overboard?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a glitter in his eyes. A faint smile played about his
+lips. Bertie was not inclined to smile. His tongue clave to the
+roof of his mouth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have been asking myself the question, Why should I not? I
+shall have to dispose of you in one way or other in the end;
+why not by drowning now? One plunge and all is over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This sort of conversation made Bertie believe in the
+possibility of one's hair standing straight up on end. He felt
+persuaded that none of his heroes had ever been spoken to like
+this; nothing made of flesh and blood could listen to such
+observations and remain unmoved, especially with the moonlit
+waters disappearing into the night on every side. What crimes
+would they not conceal?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is this way. It is you, or--I. In the railway train you
+would have proclaimed me had you dared. You did not dare;
+sooner or later, perhaps, you will dare more. Why should I wait
+for your courage to return? We are alone; the sea tells no
+tales. Boys will lean overboard: what more natural than that
+you should fall in? It is distressing to lose one's nephew,
+especially so dear a one; but what is life but a great
+battle-field which is covered with the slain? Sit up, my boy,
+and let us talk together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie sat up, not because he wished it, but because he could
+not help it. He had lost all control over his own movements.
+This man seemed to him to be some supernatural being against
+whom it was vain to attempt to struggle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was no one by to listen to the somewhat curious
+conversation which occurred between these two.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you have run away? I think you said you ran away for fun.
+You have evidently a turn for humour. Does this sort of thing
+enter into your ideas of fun--this little trip of ours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It emphatically did not. Bertie stammered out a negative.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--o!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You say your father is rich, you have a good home. Were you
+not happy there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ye--es!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Seriously, then, what did you propose to yourself to do when
+you ran away?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you propose to yourself a life like mine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie shuddered. He shrank away from the man in front of him
+with an air of invincible repugnance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Answer me! Look me in the face and answer me. I have a taste
+for learning the opinions of my fellow-men, and you are
+something original in boys. Tell me, what is your candid
+opinion of myself? What do you think of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie looked up as he was bidden. There was in his face
+something of his old bull-dog look. Something of his old
+courage had come back again, and on his countenance was the
+answer ready written. But the captain meant to have the answer
+in plain words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Speak! you're not moonstruck, are you? Tell me what you think
+of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll kill me if I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words came out heavily, as though he had to rid himself of
+an overpowering weight before he could get them out. There was
+a momentary pause; then the captain laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall kill you anyhow. What difference will it make? Tell me
+what you think of me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are a coward and a thief!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words were spoken; and in speaking them perhaps Bertie came
+nearer to what is called a hero than ever in all his life
+before. But their effect upon the captain was not agreeable.
+Those who play at bowls must expect rubbers, and those who
+insist upon receiving an answer which they know can scarcely be
+agreeable should make the best of it when it comes. But the
+captain did not seem to see it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Directly he had spoken Bertie saw that he had put his foot in
+it. Instinctively he slipped his hands between the rails of the
+seat and held on tight. Only just in time, for the captain,
+stooping forward, tried to lift him in his arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Leave go, you young brute!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie did leave go, but only to throw his arms about the
+captain's neck. Instantly the captain stood up straight,
+holding Bertie in his arms, staggering beneath his weight, for
+the convulsive clutch of the lad's arms about his neck
+encumbered him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't take your arms away I'll kill you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Bertie only clutched the tighter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let me go! let me go!&quot; he screamed with the full strength of
+his lungs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The effect was startling. In the prevailing silence the boy's
+voice was heard far out across the sea. Taken aback by such a
+show of resistance where none had before been offered, the
+captain promptly replaced the lad upon the seat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with you? It was only a joke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie unclasped his arms. The expression of his face showed
+that it had been no joke to him. He looked like one who was not
+even yet quite sure that he had escaped from death.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man at the helm was unable to see the seat on which they
+sat. The forward watch had been on the other side the ship.
+This man now advanced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain met him with his most placid air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you hear my nephew's voice? He had no idea he spoke so
+loud; he was forgetting where we were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man advanced still closer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with you, boy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Quite unconsciously the captain unbuttoned his overcoat, and
+his hand strayed to the pocket at the top.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--nothing,&quot; stammered Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing! I don't know what you call nothing! I should think
+you was being murdered, hollering out like that. Why don't you
+go down to the cabin and go to sleep?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain drew the man aside.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My nephew is a little excitable at times,&quot; he said, and tapped
+his forehead. &quot;He is best away from the cabin. He is better
+alone up here in the fresh air with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man, a weather-beaten sailor, with an unkempt grey beard,
+looked him straight in the face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you mean he's cracked?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, we don't call it by that name. He's excitable--not quite
+himself at times. You had better pay no heed to him; he has one
+of his fits on him to-night--the journey has excited him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor young feller!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And the sailor turned to look at the boy. The captain slipped
+something into his hand. The man touched his hat and went away,
+looking at the piece of money as he went. And the man and the
+boy were left alone again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie, on the seat, clutched the rails as he had done before.
+The captain, standing in front, looked down at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's more in you than meets the eye; though, considering
+you pretend to have a turn for humour, one would have thought
+you would have been quicker to understand a joke. I say nothing
+of the noise you made, but you were wise not to answer that
+fellow's impertinent question. Your presence of mind saved you
+from accidental contact with the waters, but nothing could have
+saved you from my six-shooter. You can lie down again. You need
+have no fear of another accident; your screeching has made that
+fellow, and probably his comrades, too inquisitive to make it
+worth one's while to venture that. But when it comes to the
+question of letting your tongue wag too freely, nothing can
+save you from my revolver--mark that. It will be then a case of
+you or I. If you have made up your mind to spoil me, I will
+spoil you, my little friend. I say you can lie down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie lay down; and again the captain resumed his pacing to
+and fro, keeping watch, as it were, over his young prisoner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boy fell asleep. The reaction which followed the short
+sharp struggle beguiled him, and he slept. And oddly enough he
+slept the sleep of peace. And more than once the captain,
+pausing in his solitary vigil, bent over the sleeping boy, and
+looked down at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The young beggar's actually smiling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And in fact a smile did flit across the sleeper's face. Perhaps
+he was dreaming of his mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ran away for fun, did he? Yet the youngster isn't quite
+a fool. Pity it should be a case of he or I, but
+self-preservation is Nature's first law! That was a headline in
+my copy-books unless I greatly err.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain lit a fresh cigar, and continued his patrol. What
+did he think of? A hopeless past and a hopeless future? God
+forgive him! for such as he there is no forgiveness to be had
+from men. That self-preservation, which is Nature's first law,
+is a law which cuts both ways. Honest men must destroy the
+Captain Loftuses, or they will be themselves destroyed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The morning dawned; the day returned to the world. Still the
+boy slept on. At last the captain woke him. He got up, as if
+bewildered, and rubbed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, nephew mine, are you going to sleep for ever? If so, I'm
+sorry that I woke you. Jump up and come with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His &quot;uncle&quot; led the way into the cabin. They were preparing
+breakfast; the passengers were falling to. The night had been
+so tranquil that not one had suffered from sea-sickness, and
+appetite had come with the morning. A trained eye, looking at
+the fleecy clouds which were peeping over the horizon, would
+have prophesied a change, and that rough weather was at hand.
+But the day had dawned in splendour, and so far the morning was
+as tranquil as the night had been. So those passengers who were
+going through to Jersey sat down with light hearts to
+breakfast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain and Bertie joined them. That his &quot;uncle&quot; had no
+present intention of starving him was plain, for he was allowed
+a hearty meal of whatever took his fancy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And while they were at breakfast the <i>Ella</i> was brought up
+alongside the jetty, St. Peter's Port, Guernsey.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XX</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">EXIT CAPTAIN TOM</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">When they returned to the deck the boat was preparing to
+continue her journey. The fruit vendors--and with what
+delicious fruit the Guernsey men board the Jersey boats!--were
+preparing to take their leave, and those passengers who had
+gone to stretch their legs with a saunter on the jetty were
+returning to the steamer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The rest of the voyage was uneventful. Jersey is not very far
+away from Guernsey, and for a considerable part of the distance
+the passengers were in sight of land. The breeze began to
+freshen, and as they steamed round Jersey towards St. Heliers
+it began to dawn upon not a few that enough of this sort of
+thing was as good as a feast. There is such a very striking
+difference between steaming over a tranquil sea and being
+tossed and tumbled among boisterous waves. It was fortunate
+they were so near their journey's end. Several of the
+travellers were congratulating themselves that, when they
+reached dry land, they would be able to boast that they had
+voyaged from Southampton to Jersey without experiencing a
+single qualm. Had the journey been prolonged much further, that
+boast would have been cruelly knocked on the head. When they
+drew up beside the pier at St. Heliers, coming events, as it
+were, had already cast their shadows before. They were saved
+just in the nick of time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie and the captain were among the first on shore; and, not
+unnaturally, the young gentleman supposed that their journeying
+was at an end. But he was wrong.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Step out! We have no time to lose! We have to catch another
+boat, which is due to start.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stepped out. He wondered if the other boat was to take
+them back to England. Did the captain mean to pass the rest of
+his life in voyaging to and fro?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The disappointed flymen, to whom the arrival of the mail-boat
+is the great event of the St. Heliers day, let them pass. The
+hotel and boarding-house touters touted, so far as they were
+concerned, in vain. The captain gave no heed to their
+solicitations. He evidently knew his way about, for he walked
+quickly down the jetty, turned unhesitatingly to the left when
+he reached the bottom, crossed the harbour, and down the jetty
+again upon the other side. About half-way down was a fussy
+little steamer which was making ready to start.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here you are! Jump on board!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If Bertie did not exactly jump, he at any rate got on board.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What the boat was Bertie knew not, nor whither it was going.
+Compared to the <i>Ella</i>, which they had just quitted, it was so
+small a craft that he scarcely thought it could be going back
+the way the mail had come.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As a matter of fact it was not.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Two or three times a week a fussy little steamer passes to and
+fro between Jersey and France. The two French ports at which it
+touches are St. Malo and St. Brieuc. One journey it takes to
+St. Malo, the next to St. Brieuc. On this occasion it was about
+to voyage to St. Brieuc.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">St. Brieuc, as some people may not know, is the chief town of
+the department of Cotes-du-Nord, in Brittany--about as
+unpretending a chief town as one could find. That Captain
+Loftus had some preconceived end in view, and had not started
+on a wild-goose chase, not, as might have at first appeared,
+going hither and thither as his fancy swayed him, seemed plain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A more roundabout route to France he could scarcely have
+chosen. Had he simply desired to reach the Continent, fast
+steamers which passed from Southampton to Havre in little less
+than half the time which the journey had already occupied, were
+at his disposal. Very many people, some of them constant
+travellers, are ignorant of the fact that a little steamer is
+constantly plying between Jersey and Brittany. It is dependent
+on the tides for its time of departure. Only in the local
+papers are the hours advertised. Captain Loftus must have been
+pretty well posted on the matter to have been aware that on
+this particular day the little steamer, <i>La Commerce</i>, would be
+starting for St. Brieuc about the time the mail-boat entered
+Jersey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He must have had some particular object in making for that
+remote corner of Breton France. No sooner did the boat enter
+the little harbour than he made a dash for the railway station.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie seemed to have passed into another world. He had not the
+faintest notion where he was. He was not even sure that they
+had reached Jersey. He heard strange tongues sounding in his
+ears; saw strange costumes before his eyes. In his then state
+of bewilderment he would have been quite ready to believe
+anybody who might have chosen to tell him that he had arrived
+in Timbuctoo.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some light was thrown upon the subject when they reached the
+station. The captain took some money out of his pocket and held
+it out to Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go and ask for the tickets,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stared. If he had been told to go and ask the man in the
+moon for a lock of his hair he could not have been more
+puzzled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you hear what I say? Go and ask for the tickets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tickets? Where for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain hesitated a moment, then said:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two first-class tickets for Constantinople.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He handed Bertie some silver coins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two first-class tickets for Constantinople.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stammeringly repeated the words. Could the captain be in
+earnest?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I want to catch the train; look alive, or----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain touched the pocket where the revolver was.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie doubtfully advanced to the booking office, gazing behind
+him as he went to make quite sure that the captain had meant
+what he said. There was an old lady taking tickets, so he
+waited his turn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two first-class tickets for Constantinople.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Comment?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stared at the booking-clerk, and the booking-clerk stared at
+him, each in complete ignorance of what the other meant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you mean to say you can't speak French?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain came to the rescue, speaking so gently that his
+words were only audible to Bertie's ears.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--o.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you mean to say you don't know enough to be able to ask for
+two first-class tickets for Constantinople?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--o.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How much French do you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No--one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain evidently knew a great deal, for he immediately
+addressed the booking-clerk in fluent French--French which that
+official understood, for two tickets were at once forthcoming.
+But whether they were for Constantinople, or for Jericho, or
+for Kamtchatka, was more than the boy could tell. He was in the
+pleasant position of not being able to understand a word that
+was said; of being without the faintest notion where he was,
+and of not having the least idea where he was going to.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It may be mentioned, however, that the captain had not asked
+for tickets for Constantinople--which at St. Brieuc he would
+have experienced some difficulty in getting--but for Brest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They had not long to wait before the through train from Paris
+entered the station. They got into a first-class carriage,
+which they had for themselves, and in due time they were off.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The state of Bertie's mind was easier imagined than described.
+He had been in a dream since he had started on his journey to
+the Land of Golden Dreams; and dreams have a tendency to become
+more and more incoherent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His adventures up to the time of leaving London had been
+strange enough, but he had at least known in what part of the
+world he was. Now he was not possessed of even that rudimentary
+knowledge. The continued travelling towards an unknown
+destination, the unresting onward rush, as though the captain
+meant, like the brook, to &quot;go on for ever&quot;--and this in the
+case of a boy who had never travelled more than twenty miles
+from home in his life--had in itself been enough to confuse
+him; but the sudden discovery that he was in an unknown
+country, in which they spoke an unknown tongue, put the climax
+to his mental muddle. Had the captain, revolver in hand, then
+and there insisted on his informing him which part of his body
+as a rule was uppermost, he would have been wholly at a loss to
+state whether it was on his head or heels he was accustomed to
+stand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Something strange, too, about the railway carriage, about the
+country through which they passed, about the people and the
+very houses he saw through the carriage window made his muddle
+more.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The names of the roadside stations at which they stopped, which
+were shouted out with stentorian lungs, were such oddities.
+They came to one where the word &quot;Guingamp&quot; was painted in huge
+letters on a large white board. Guingamp! What was the
+pronunciation of such a word as that? And fancy living at a
+town with such a name! He was not aware that, like a conjurer's
+trick, it was only a question of knowing how it was done, and
+Guingamp would come as glibly to his tongue as Slough or Upton.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And then Belle-Isle-en-Terre and Plouigneau--what names! The
+educational system which flourished at Mecklemburg House had
+tended to make French an even stranger tongue than it need have
+done. He saw the letters on the boards, but he could no more
+pronounce the words which they were supposed to form than he
+could fly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Throughout the long journey--and it is a long journey from St.
+Brieuc to Brest--not a word had been exchanged. The captain had
+scarcely moved. He had stretched his legs out on the seat, and
+had taken up the easiest position which was attainable under
+the circumstances; but he had not closed his eyes. Bertie
+wondered if he never slept; if those fierce black eyes remained
+always on the watch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain looked straight in front of him; and, although he
+seemed to pay no heed to what the boy was doing, Bertie was
+conscious that he never moved without the captain knowing it.
+What a life this man must lead, to be ever on the watch; to be
+ever fearful that the time of the avenger had come at last;
+that the prison gates were about to close on him, and, perhaps,
+this time for ever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Uncle Tom&quot; seemed to be as much at home in Brest as he had
+been everywhere. The station was filled with the usual crowd.
+Porters advanced to offer their services to carry the Gladstone
+bag and place it on a cab, outside the cabmen hailed them in
+the hope of a fare; but the captain, paying no heed to any of
+them, marched quickly on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Were they at their journey's end? Bertie wondered. Was this
+Constantinople, or had they another stage to go? If not
+Constantinople, and he had a vague idea that Constantinople
+could not be reached quite so quickly as they had come--what
+place was it?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What struck him chiefly as they passed into the town was the
+number of men in uniform there seemed to be about. Every third
+person they met seemed to wear a uniform. He supposed they were
+soldiers, though he had never seen soldiers dressed like these
+before; and then what a number of them there were! Geography is
+not a strong point of the English education system, and he had
+never been taught at Mecklemburg House that Brest was to France
+much more than Portsmouth is to England, and that its
+population consists of four classes, soldiers, sailors,
+dockyard labourers--looking at all those, of whatever grade,
+who labour in the dockyard in the light of labourers--and,
+a long way behind the other three, civilians: &quot;civilians&quot;
+being a generic name for that--regarded from a Brest point of
+view--absolutely insignificant class who have no direct
+connection with war or making ready for war.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On their arrival the day was well advanced, and as they went
+down the Rue de Siam they met the men returning from the yards.
+Bertie had never seen such a sight before, not even in the
+course of his present adventures. The Rue de Siam runs down
+the hill. The dockyards are at the foot. From where they
+stood, as far as the eye could reach, advanced a dense mass of
+dirt-grimed men. They were the Government employés, employed by
+France to make engines and ships of war, and as the seemingly
+never-ending stream went past he actually moved closer to the
+captain with a vague idea that he might--think of it, ye
+heroes!--need <i>his</i> protection; for it seemed to the lad that,
+taken in the mass, he had never seen a more repulsive-looking
+set of gentlemen even in his dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain went straight down to the bridge; then he paused,
+seeming to hesitate a moment, then turned to the right,
+striking into what seemed very much like a nest of rookeries.
+They came to an ancient, disreputable-looking inn. This they
+entered; and as they did so Bertie's memory suddenly travelled
+back to the Kingston inn, into which he had been enticed by the
+Original Badger. The two houses were about on a par.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Apparently the establishment was not accustomed to receive
+guests of their distinguished appearance--though Bertie was
+shabby enough--for the aged crone who received them was
+evidently bent double by her sense of the honour which was paid
+to the house.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She and the captain carried on a voluble conversation, though,
+for all that Bertie understood of what they said, they might as
+well have held their peace. He remained standing in the centre
+of the brick floor, shuffling from foot to foot, feeling and
+looking as much out of place as though he had been suddenly
+dropped into the middle of China. Gabble, gabble went the old
+crone's tongue, wiggle-waggle went her picturesque white
+cap--the only picturesque thing there was about her--up and
+down went her arms and hands. She was the personification of
+volubility, but unfortunately she might have been dumb for any
+meaning which her words conveyed to Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yet, incomprehensible as her speech might be and was, he could
+not rid himself of an impression, derived from her manner to
+the captain, and the captain's manner to her, that they two had
+met before, and that, in fact, they knew each other very well
+indeed. But neither then nor at any other time did he get
+beyond impression.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Certainly her after-conduct was not of a kind to show that,
+even if she knew the gentleman, she had much faith in his
+integrity, unless, as was possible, the understanding between
+the two was of a very deep and subtle kind indeed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She showed the new arrivals up a flight of rickety stairs, into
+a room in which there were two beds of a somewhat better sort
+than might have been expected. Some attempt had also been made
+to fit the room up after the French fashion, so that it might
+serve as sitting-room as well as bedroom. There was a table in
+the centre, and the apartment also contained two or three
+rush-bottomed chairs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old crone, having shown them in, said something to the
+captain and disappeared. The man and the boy were left alone.
+They had not spoken to each other since they had left St.
+Brieuc, and there was not much spoken now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can take your hat off and sit down. We shall sleep here
+to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So at any rate they had reached a temporary resting-place at
+last; their journey was not to be quite unceasing. It was only
+the night before they had left London, but it seemed to Bertie
+that it was a year ago.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He did as he was bid--took his hat off and sat on a chair. The
+captain sat down also, seating himself on one chair and putting
+his feet upon another. Not a word was spoken; they simply sat
+and waited, perhaps twenty minutes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie wondered what they were waiting for, but the
+reappearance of the crone with a coarse white tablecloth shed
+light upon the matter. They had been waiting while a meal was
+being prepared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The prospect revived his spirits. He had not tasted food since
+they had left the <i>Ella</i>, and his appetite was always hale and
+hearty. But he was thrown into the deepest agitation by a
+remark which the crone addressed to him. He had not the
+faintest notion what it was she said; but the mere fact of
+being addressed in a foreign and therefore unknown tongue made
+him feel quite ill.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain did not improve the matter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you answer the woman?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what she says.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you acting, or is it real?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie only wished that he had been acting, and that his
+ignorance had not been real. At Mecklemburg House the idea of
+learning French had seemed to him absurd, an altogether
+frivolous waste of time. What would he not have given then--and
+still more, what would he not have given a little later on--to
+have made better use of his opportunities when he had them?
+Circumstances alter cases.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain looked at him for a moment or two with his fierce
+black eyes; then he said something to the old woman which made
+her laugh. Not a pleasant laugh by any means, and it did not
+add to Bertie's sense of comfort that such a laugh was being
+laughed at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sit up to the table!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old woman had laid the table, and had then disappeared to
+fetch the food to put before her guests. Bertie sat up. The
+meal appeared. Not by any means a bad one--better, like the
+room itself, than might have been expected.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When they had finished, and the old crone had cleared the
+things away, the captain stood up and lighted a cigar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, my lad, you'd better tumble into bed. I've a strong
+belief in the virtue of early hours. There's nothing like sleep
+for boys, even for those with a turn for humour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie had not himself a taste for early hours as a rule--it
+may be even questioned if the captain had--but he was ready
+enough for bed just then, and he had scarcely got between the
+sheets before he was asleep. But what surprised him was to see
+the captain prepare himself for bed as well. Bertie had one
+bed, the captain the other. The lights were put out; and at an
+unusually early hour silence reigned.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Perhaps the journey had fatigued the man as much as the boy. It
+is beyond question that the captain was asleep almost as soon
+as Bertie was.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But he did not sleep quite so long.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While it was yet dark he got up, and, having lit a candle,
+looked at his watch. Then he dressed very quietly, making not
+the slightest noise. He took his revolver from underneath his
+pillow, and replaced it in the top pocket of his overcoat. He
+also took from underneath his pillow a leathern case. He opened
+it. It contained a necklace of wondrous beauty, formed of
+diamonds of uncommon brilliancy and size. His great black eyes
+sparkled at the precious stones, and the precious stones
+sparkled back at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was that necklace which had once belonged to the Countess of
+Ferndale, and which, according to Mr. Rosenheim, had cost more
+than twenty thousand pounds. The captain reclosed the leathern
+case, and put it in the same pocket which contained his
+revolver.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, being fully dressed, even to his hat and boots, he
+crossed the room and looked at Bertie. The boy was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The young beggar's smiling again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young beggar was; perhaps he was again dreaming of his
+mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The captain took his Gladstone bag and crept on tiptoe down the
+stairs. Curiously enough the front door was unbarred, so that
+it was not long before he was standing in the street. Then,
+having lighted, not a cigar this time, but a pipe, he started
+at a pace considerably over four miles an hour, straight off
+through the country lanes, to Landerneau. He must have had a
+complete knowledge of the country to have performed that feat,
+for Landerneau is at a distance of not less than fifteen miles
+from Brest; and in spite of the darkness which prevailed, at
+any rate when he started, he turned aside from the high road,
+and selected those by-paths which only a native of the country
+as a rule knows well.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Landerneau is a junction on the line which runs to Nantes. He
+caught the first train to that great seaport, and that
+afternoon he boarded, at St. Nazaire, a steamer which was bound
+for the United States of America, and by night he was far away
+on the high seas.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Henceforward he disappears from the pages of this story. He had
+laid his plans well. He had destroyed the trail, and the only
+witness of his crime whom he had any cause to fear he had left
+penniless in the most rabid town in France, where any
+Englishman who is penniless, and unable to speak any language
+but his own, was not likely to receive much consideration from
+the inhabitants.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XXI</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">THE DISADVANTAGES OF NOT BEING ABLE TO SPEAK FRENCH</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">In the meantime Bertie slept, perhaps still continuing to dream
+of his mother. When he woke he thought the captain was still
+taking his rest. He remained for a time motionless in bed. But
+it began to dawn upon him that the room was very quiet, that
+there was no sound even of gentle breathing. If the captain
+slept, he slept with uncommon soundness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So he sat up to see if the captain really was asleep, and saw
+that the opposite bed was empty. Still the truth did not at
+once occur to him. It was quite possible that the captain had
+not chosen to wait till his companion awoke before he himself
+got up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For the better part of an hour Bertie lay and wondered. By
+degrees he could not but perceive that the captain's absence
+was peculiar. Considering the close watch and ward which he had
+kept upon the lad, it was surprising that he should leave him
+so long to the enjoyment of his own society.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">An idea occurred to Bertie. Supposing the captain was guarding
+him even in his absence? Then the door would be locked. He got
+up to see. No; he had only to turn the handle, and the door was
+open. What could it mean? Bertie returned to his bed to ponder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Another half-hour passed, and still no signs of the captain.
+Bertie would have liked to get up, but did not dare. Supposing
+when the captain returned he chose to be indignant because the
+lad had taken upon himself to move without his advice?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There came a tapping at the door. Was it the captain? He would
+scarcely knock at the door to ask if he might be allowed to
+enter. The tapping again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come in,&quot; cried Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Still the tapping continued. Then some one spoke in French. It
+was the old crone's voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;M'sieu veut se lever? C'est midi!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Not in the least understanding what was said, Bertie cried
+again, &quot;Come in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The door was opened a few inches, and the old crone looked in.
+She stared at Bertie sitting up in bed, and Bertie stared at
+her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;M'sieu, vot' oncle! Il dort?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you mean,&quot; said Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They were in the agreeable position of not having either of
+them the faintest conception of what the other said. She came
+further into the room and looked about her. Then she saw that
+the captain's bed was empty.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Vot' oncle! Où est-il donc?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie stared, as though by dint of staring he could get at
+what she meant. The Mecklemburg House curriculum had included
+French, but not the sort of French which the old lady talked.
+&quot;Mon père&quot; and &quot;ma mère,&quot; that was about the extent of Bertie's
+knowledge of foreign tongues; and even those simple words he
+would not have recognised coming from the peculiarly voluble
+lips of this ancient dame.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While he was still endeavouring to understand, from the
+expression of her face, what it was she said, all at once she
+began to scold him. Of course he had still not the slightest
+knowledge as to what were the actual words she used; but her
+voice, her gestures, and the expression of her countenance
+needed no interpreter. Never very much to look at, she suddenly
+became as though possessed with an evil spirit, seeming to rain
+down anathemas on his non-understanding head with all the
+virulence of the legendary witch of old.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What was the matter Bertie had not the least conception, but
+that something was the matter was plain enough. Her shrill
+voice rose to a piercing screech. She seemed half choked with
+the velocity of her speech. Her wrinkled face assumed a dozen
+different hideous shapes. She shook her yellow claws as though
+she would have liked to have attacked him then and there.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Suddenly she went to the door and called to some one down
+below. A man in sabots came stamping up the stairs. He was a
+great hulking fellow in a blouse and a great wide-brimmed felt
+hat. He listened to what the woman said, or rather screamed,
+looking at Bertie all the time from under his overhanging
+brows. Then he took up the lad's clothes which lay upon the
+bed, and very coolly turned out all the pockets. Finding
+nothing in the shape of money to reward his search, he put them
+down again and glowered at Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some perception of the truth began to dawn upon the lad. Could
+the captain have gone--absconded, in fact--and forgotten to pay
+his bill? From the proceedings of the man and woman in front of
+him it would seem he had. The man had apparently searched the
+youngster's pockets in quest of money to pay what the captain
+owed, and searched in vain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All at once he caught Bertie by the shoulders and lifted him
+bodily on to the floor. Then he pointed to his clothing, saying
+something at the same time. Bertie did not understand what he
+said, but the meaning of his gesture was plain enough.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was to put on his clothes and dress. So Bertie dressed.
+All the time the woman kept up a series of exclamations. More
+than once it was all that the man could do to prevent her
+laying hands upon the boy. He himself stood looking grimly on,
+every now and then seeming to grunt out a recommendation to the
+woman to restrain her indignation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the boy was dressed he unceremoniously took him by the
+collar of the coat and marched him from the room. The old crone
+brought up the rear, shrieking out reproaches as they went.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In this way they climbed down the rickety stairs, Bertie
+first--a most uncomfortable first; the man next, holding his
+coat collar, giving him little monitory jerks, in the way the
+policeman had done down Piccadilly; the woman last, raining
+abuse upon the unfortunate youngster's head. This was another
+stage on the journey to the Land of Golden Dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Across the room below to the front door. There was a temporary
+pause. The old crone gave the boy two sounding smacks, one on
+each side of the head, given with surprising vigour considering
+her apparent age. Then the man raised his foot, sabot and all,
+and kicked the young gentleman into the street!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then Bertie felt sure that the captain had forgotten to pay his
+bill.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stood for a moment in the narrow street, not unnaturally
+surprised at this peremptory method of bidding a guest
+farewell. But it would have been quite as well if he had stood
+a little less upon the order of his going; for the crone,
+taking advantage of his momentary pause, caught off her slipper
+and flung it at his head. This, too, was delivered with vigour
+worthy of a younger arm, and as it struck Bertie fairly on the
+cheek he received the full benefit of the lady's strength. The
+other slipper followed, but that Bertie just dodged in time.
+Still, he thought that under the circumstances, perhaps, he had
+better go. So he went.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But not unaccompanied.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A couple of urchins had witnessed his unceremonious exit, and
+they had also seen the slippers aimed. The whole proceeding
+seemed to strike them in a much more humorous light than it did
+Bertie, and to mark their enjoyment of the fun they danced
+about and shrieked with laughter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As Bertie began to slink away the man said to them something
+which seemed to make them prick up their ears. They followed
+Bertie, pointing with their fingers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;V'là un Anglais! C'est un larron! au voleur! au voleur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What it was they shrieked in their shrill voices Bertie had not
+the least idea, but he knew it was unpleasant to be pointed and
+shouted at, for their words were caught up by other urchins of
+their class, and soon he had a force of ragamuffins shrieking
+close at his heels.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;V'là un Anglais! un Anglais! C'est un lar--r--ron!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stress which they laid upon the <i>larron</i> was ear-splitting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he went, his following gathered force. They were a ragged
+regiment. Some hatless, some shoeless, all stockingless; for
+even those who wore sabots showed an inch or two of naked flesh
+between the ends of their breeches and the tops of their wooden
+shoes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As Bertie found his way into the better portions of the town
+the procession created a sensation. Shopkeepers came to their
+doors to stare, the loungers in the cafés stood to look. Some
+of the foot-passengers joined the rapidly-swelling crowd.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boy with his sullen face passed on, his lips compressed,
+his eyes with their dogged look. What the hubbub was about, why
+they followed him, what it was they kept on shouting, he did
+not understand. He knew that the captain had left him, and left
+him penniless. What he was himself to do, or where he was
+going, he had not the least idea. He only knew that the crowd
+was hunting him on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was not one friendly face among those around him--not one
+who could understand. The boys seemed like demons, shrieking,
+dancing, giving him occasional shoves. Separately he would have
+tackled any one of them, for they could not despise him for
+being English more heartily than he despised them for being
+French. But what could he do against that lot?--a host, too,
+which was being reinforced by men. For the cry &quot;Un Anglais!&quot;
+seemed to be infectious, and citizens of the grimier and more
+popular type began to swell the throng and shriek &quot;Un Anglais!&quot;
+with the boys.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One man, a very dirty and evil-looking gentleman, laying his
+two hands on Bertie's shoulders, started running, and began
+pushing him on in front of him. This added to the sport. The
+cavalcade broke into a trot. The shrieks became more vigorous.
+Suddenly Bertie, being pushed too vigorously from behind, and
+perhaps a little bewildered by the din, lost his footing and
+fell forward on his face. The man, taken unawares, fell down on
+top of him. The crowd shrieked with laughter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A functionary interfered, in the shape of a <i>sergent de ville</i>.
+He wanted to know what the disturbance was about. Two or three
+dozen people, who knew absolutely nothing at all about it,
+began explaining all at once. They did not render the matter
+clearer. Nor did the man who had pushed Bertie over. He was
+indignant; not because he had pushed Bertie over, but because
+he had fallen on him afterwards. He evidently considered
+himself outraged because Bertie had not managed to enjoy a
+monopoly of tumbling down.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The policeman, not much enlightened by the explanations which
+were poured upon him, marched Bertie off to the <i>bureau de
+police</i>. They manage things differently in France, and the
+difference is about as much marked in a police station as
+anywhere else. Bertie found himself confronted by an official
+who pelted him with questions he did not understand, and who
+was equally at a loss to understand the observations he made in
+reply. Then he found himself locked up. It is probable that
+while he was held in durance vile an attempt was made to
+discover an interpreter; it would appear from what followed
+that if such an attempt were made, it was made in vain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The afternoon passed away. Still the boy was left to enjoy his
+own society. He had plenty of leisure to think; to wonder what
+was going to happen to him--what was the next page which was to
+be unfolded in the history of his adventures. He had leisure to
+learn that he was getting hungry. But no one brought him
+anything to eat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last, just as he was beginning to think that he surely was
+forgotten, an official appeared, who, without a word, took him
+by the collar of his coat--he had been taken a good many times
+by the collar of his coat of late--led him straight out of the
+station-house, through some by-streets to the outskirts of the
+town.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, when he had taken him some little distance outside the
+walls, and a long country road stretched away in front, he
+released the lad's collar, and with a very expressive gesture,
+which even Bertie was not at a loss to understand, he bade him
+take himself away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Bertie took himself away, walking smartly off in the
+direction in which the sergeant pointed--away from the town.
+The policeman watched him for some time, standing with his
+hands in his pockets; and then, when a curve in the road took
+the lad out of sight, he returned within the walls.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was already evening. The uncertain weather which had
+prevailed during the last few days still proved its
+uncertainty. The day had been fine, the evening was clouded.
+The wind was high, and, blowing from the north-west, blew the
+clouds tumultuously in scurrying masses across the sky.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The country was bare, nearly treeless. It was very flat.
+The scant fields of Finistère offered no protection from
+the weather, and but little pleasure to the eye. It was a
+bleak, almost barren country, with but little natural
+vegetation--harsh, stony, and inhospitable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Along the wind-swept road he steadily trudged. He knew not
+whither he was going, not even whence he came. He was a
+stranger in a strange land. The captain had asked him whether
+he spoke French; he supposed, therefore, that this land was
+France. But the captain had confused him--bidden him ask for
+tickets for Constantinople. Even Bertie's scanty geographical
+knowledge told him that Constantinople was not France. On the
+other hand, the same scant store suggested that it needed a
+longer flight than they had taken to bring him into Turkey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A very slight knowledge of French would have enabled him to
+solve the question. If he had only been able to ask, Where am
+I? The person asked might have taken him to be an English
+lunatic in a juvenile stage of his existence, but would
+probably have replied. Unfortunately this knowledge was
+wanting. If sometimes a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,
+it is also, and not seldom, very much the other way.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Nearly all that night Bertie went wandering on. The darkness
+gathered. The wind seemed to whistle more loudly when the
+darkness came, but there was no escape from it for him. Seen in
+the light of clustering shadows the country seemed but scantily
+peopled. He scarcely met a soul. A few peasants, a cart or
+two--these were the only moving things he saw. And when the
+darkness deepened he seemed to be alone in all the world.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A house or two he passed, even some villages, in which there
+were no signs of life except an occasional light gleaming
+through a wayside window. He made no attempt to ask for food,
+or drink, or shelter. How could he have asked? As he went
+further and further from the town he began to come among the
+Breton aborigines; and in Brittany, as in Wales, you find whole
+hamlets in which scarcely one of the inhabitants has a
+comprehensible knowledge of the language of the country which
+claims them as her children. Even French would have been of
+problematic service in the parts into which he had found, or
+rather lost his way, and he was not even aware that there was a
+place called Brittany, and a tongue called Breton. He was a
+stranger in a strange land indeed!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a horrible night, that first one he spent wandering
+among the wilds of Finistère. After he had gone on and on and
+on, and never seemed to come to anything, and the winds
+shrieked louder, and he was hungry and thirsty and weary and
+worn, and there was nothing but blackness all around and the
+terror-stricken clouds whirling above his head, somewhere about
+midnight he thought it was time he should find some shelter and
+rest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So he clambered over a stone wall which bound the road on
+either side, and on the other side of this stone wall he
+ventured to lie down. It was not comfortable lying; there
+was no grass, there were thistles, nettles, weeds, and
+stones--plenty of stones. On this bed he tried to take some
+rest, trusting to the wall to shelter him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In vain. It requires education to become accustomed to a bed of
+stones. All things come by custom, but those who are used to
+sheets find stony soil disagreeable ground. Bertie gave it up.
+The wind seemed to come through the chinks in the wall with
+even greater bitterness than if there had been no wall at all.
+The stones were torture. There was nothing on which he could
+lay his head. So he got up and struck across the field, seeking
+for a sheltered place in which to lie. For another hour or so
+he wandered on, now sitting down for a moment or two, now
+kneeling, and feeling about with his hand for comfortable
+ground. In an open country, on a dark and windy night, it is
+weary searching for one's bed, especially in a country where
+stones are more plentiful than grass.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his fruitless wanderings, confused by the darkness and the
+strangeness of the place, Bertie went over the same ground more
+than once. Without knowing it, meaning to go forwards, he went
+back. When he suspected that this was the case, his
+helplessness came home to him more forcibly than it had done
+before. What was he to do if he could not tell the way he had
+come from the way he was going?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last he blundered on some trees. He welcomed them as though
+they had been friends. He sat down at the foot of one, and
+found that the ground was coated by what was either moss or
+grass. Compared to his bed of stones it was like a bed of
+eider-down. It was quite a big tree, and he found that he could
+so lean against it that it would serve as a very tolerable
+barrier against the wind at his back.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the foot of this tree he sat down, and pillowing his head
+against the trunk he sought for sleep. But sleep was coy, and
+would not come on being wooed. The utter solitude of his
+position kept him wakeful. Robinson Crusoe's desolation was
+scarcely more complete; his helplessness was not so great. It
+came upon Bertie, as it came upon Crusoe in his lonely island,
+that he was wholly in the hands of God. The teachings which he
+had been taught at his mother's knee, and which seemed to go
+into one ear and out of the other, proved to be the bread which
+is cast upon the waters, returning after many days. He
+remembered with startling vividness how his mother had told him
+that God holds us all in the hollow of His hand: he understood
+the meaning of that saying now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was so sleepy, so tired out and out, that from very
+weariness he forgot that he was hungry and athirst. Yet, in
+some strange fantastic way, the thought, despite his weariness,
+prevented him from sleeping--that the winds which whistled
+through the night were the winds of God. The winds of God! And
+it seemed to him that all things were of God, the darkness and
+the solitude, and the mysterious place. Who shall judge him?
+Who shall say that it was only because he was in trouble that
+he had such thoughts? It is something even if in times of
+trouble we think of God. &quot;God is a very present help in times
+of trouble,&quot; has been written on some page of some old book.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie was so curiously impressed by a sense of the presence of
+the Almighty God that he did what he had not done for a very
+long time--he got up, and kneeling at the foot of the friendly
+tree, he prayed. And it is not altogether beyond the range of
+possibility that, when he again sought rest, it was because of
+his prayer that God sent sleep unto his eyes.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XXII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">THE END OF THE JOURNEY</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Throughout the day which followed, and throughout the night,
+and throughout the succeeding days and nights, Bertie wandered
+among the wilds of Finistère, and among its lanes and villages.
+How he lived he himself could have scarcely told. The
+misfortunes which had befallen him since he had set out on his
+journey to the Land of Golden Dreams had told upon him. He
+became ill in body and in mind. He needed rest and care, good
+food and careful nursing. What he got was no food, or scarcely
+any, strange skies to shelter him, a strange land to serve him
+as his bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was fortunate that summer was at hand. Had it been winter he
+would have lain down at night, and in the morning they would
+have found him dead. But he was at least spared excessive cold.
+The winds were not invariably genial. The occasional rain was
+not at all times welcome--to him at least, whatever it might
+have been to the thirsty earth--but there was no frost. If
+frost had come he would certainly have died.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What he ate he scarcely knew. Throughout the whole of his
+wanderings he never received food from any human being. He
+found his breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper in the fields and
+on the hedges. A patch of turnips was a godsend. There was one
+field in particular in which grew both swedes and turnips. It
+was within a stone's-throw of a village; to reach it from the
+road you had to scramble down a bank. To this he returned again
+and again. He began to look upon it almost as his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Once, towards evening, the farmer saw him getting his supper.
+The farmer saw the lad before the lad saw him. He stole upon
+him unawares, bent upon capturing the thief. He had almost
+achieved his purpose, and was within half a dozen yards of the
+miscreant, when, not looking where he was going in his anxiety
+to keep his eyes upon the pilferer, he caught his sabot in a
+hole, and came down upon his knees. As he came he gave vent to
+a deep Breton execration.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Startled, Bertie looked behind and saw the foe. He was off
+like the wind. When the farmer had regained, if not his temper,
+at least his perpendicular, he saw, fifty yards ahead, a
+wild-looking, ragged figure tearing for his life. The Breton
+was not built for speed. He perceived that he might as well
+attempt to rival the swallow in its flight as outrun the boy.
+So he contented himself with shaking his fists and shouting
+curses after the robber of his turnip field.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Never washing, never taking his clothes from his back nor his
+shoes from his feet, in appearance Bertie soon presented a
+figure which would have discredited a scarecrow. Scrambling
+through hedges, constant walking over stony ways, beds on
+dampish soil--these things told upon his garments; they soon
+began to drop away from him in shreds. His face went well with
+his clothing. Very white and drawn, very thin and dirty, his
+ravenous eyes looked out from under a tangled shock of hair.
+One night he had been startled in his sleep, as he often was,
+and he had sprung up, as a wild creature springs, and run for
+his life, not waiting to inquire what it was that had startled
+him, whether it was the snapping of a twig or the movement of a
+rabbit or a bird. In his haste he left his hat behind him, and
+as he never returned to get it, afterwards he went with his
+head uncovered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It began to be rumoured about those parts that some strange
+thing had taken up its residence in the surrounding country.
+The Breton peasants and small farmers are ignorant, credulous,
+superstitious. The slightest incident of an unusual character
+they magnify into a mystery.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was told in the hamlets that some wild creature had made its
+appearance in their neighbourhood. Some said it was a boy, some
+said it was a man, some said it was a woman; some said it was
+neither one thing nor the other, but a monster which had taken
+human shape.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Bertie lent an air of veracity to the different versions by his
+own proceedings. He was not in his own right mind. Had care
+been taken, and friends been near, all might have been well; as
+it was, fever was taking more and more possession of his brain.
+He shunned his fellow-creatures. At the sight of a little child
+he would take to his heels and run. He saw an enemy in every
+bush, in every tree; in a man or a woman he saw his worst enemy
+of all.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In consequence the tales gained ground and grew. A lout,
+returning from his labour in the fields, saw on a distant slope
+in the gathering twilight a wild-looking figure, who, at sight
+of him, turned and ran like the wind. The lout ran too. The
+tale did not lose by being told. Bertie was magnified into a
+giant, his speed into speed of the swiftest bird. The lout
+declared that he uttered mysterious sounds as he ran. He became
+a mysterious personage altogether--and a horrible one.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Others saw this thing of evil, for that it was a thing of evil
+all were agreed. The farmer who saw him in his turnip field had
+a wondrous tale to tell.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had not tripped through his own stupidity and clumsiness. On
+the contrary, it was all owing to the influence of the evil
+eye. Bertie, being a thing of evil, had seen him--as things of
+evil have doubtless the power of doing--although his approach
+was made from the rear; and, seeing him, had glanced at him
+with his evil eye through the back of his head, as things
+possessing that fatal gift have, we may take it for granted,
+the power of doing. Nay, who shall decide that the evil eye is
+not itself located in the back of the head?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Anyhow, under its influence the farmer tripped. This became
+clearer to his mind the more he thought of it, and, it may be
+also added, the farther off the accident became. The next
+morning he remembered that he had been conscious of a
+mysterious something in his joints as he approached the turnip
+stealer--a something not to be described, but altogether
+mysterious and horrible. In the afternoon he declared that he
+had not followed the plunderer because he had been rooted to
+the ground, he knew not how nor why--rooted in the manner of
+his own turnips, which he had seen disappearing from underneath
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That night the tale grew still more horrible. He had a couple
+of glasses of brandy, at two sous a glass, with a select circle
+of his friends, and under the influence of conviviality the
+farmer made his neighbours' hair stand on end. He went to bed
+with the belief impressed firmly on his mind that he had
+encountered Old Nick in person, engaged in the nefarious and
+characteristic action of stealing turnips from his turnip
+field.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus it came about that while Bertie avoided aboriginals, the
+aboriginals were equally careful in avoiding him. One day some
+one heard him speak. That was the climax. The tongue he spoke
+was neither Breton nor French. Delirium was overtaking the lad,
+and under its influence he was beginning to spout all sorts of
+nonsense in his feverish wanderings here and there.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The aboriginal in question had seen him running across the
+field and shouting as he ran. He declared, probably with truth,
+that never had he heard the like before. It was undoubtedly the
+language which was in common use among things of evil. This
+conclusion was not flattering to English-speaking people, but
+there are occasions on which ignorance is not bliss, and it is
+not folly to be wise. Being a Breton peasant of average
+education, this aboriginal decided that Bertie's English was
+the language in common use among things of evil.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That settled the question. There are possibly Beings--Beings in
+this case should be written with a capital letter--of
+indifferent, and worse than indifferent character, who have at
+least some elementary acquaintance with the Breton tongue. Let
+so much be granted. But it cannot be doubted--at any rate no
+one did doubt it--that the fact of this stranger speaking in a
+strange tongue made it as plain as a pike-staff that he was the
+sort of character which is better left alone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So, as a rule, they left him alone in the severest manner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course this could not endure for ever. Bertie was
+approaching the Land of Golden Dreams in a sense of which he
+had not dreamed even in his wildest dreams. One cannot subsist
+on roots alone. Nor can a young gentleman, used to cosy beds
+and well-warmed rooms and regular meals, exist for long on such
+a diet, under ever-changing skies, in an inhospitable country,
+in the open air. Bertie was worn to a shadow. He was wasted not
+only physically, but mentally and morally. He was a ghost of
+what he once had been, enfeebled in mind and body.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If something did not happen soon to change his course of
+living, he would soon bring his journeying to an untimely end,
+and reach the Land of Dreams indeed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Something did happen, but it was not by any means the sort of
+thing which was required.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day a great hunt took place in that district. It was
+first-rate sport. They occasionally hunt wolves, and even wild
+boars in Finistère, but this time what was hunted was a boy.
+And the boy was Bertie.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The mayor of St. Thégonnec was a wise man. All mayors are of
+necessity, and from the nature of their office, wise,
+especially the mayors of rural France; and this mayor was the
+wisest of wise mayors. He was a miller by trade, honest as
+millers go, and as pig-headed a rustic as was ever found in
+Finistère. His name was Baudry--Jean Baudry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was reported to M. Baudry by his colleague, the mayor of the
+commune of Plouigneau, which lies on the other side of Morlaix,
+that there was a Being--with a capital B--which had come no one
+knew from whence, and which was plundering the fields in a way
+calculated to make the blood of all honest men turn cold--or
+hot, as might accord best with the natural disposition of the
+blood of the man in question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The mayor of St. Thégonnec had told this story to the mayor of
+Morlaix; and the mayor of Morlaix, being the mayor of the
+<i>arrondissement</i>, had thought it an excellent opportunity to
+snub the mayor of a mere commune, and had snubbed the mayor of
+St. Thégonnec accordingly; who, coming fresh from the snubbing,
+had encountered his colleague in the market-place, and then and
+there told his wrongs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The two worthies agreed that, at the first opportunity, they
+would lay violent hands upon this plunderer of the fields of
+honest men, and make him wish that he had left such fields
+alone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Such an opportunity, or what looked like such an one, was not
+long in offering itself to M. Baudry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One afternoon he was engaged in his occupation of grinding
+flour, standing in an atmosphere which would have rendered life
+disagreeable, if not altogether unsupportable, to any one but a
+miller, when Robert, Madame Perchon's eldest born, put his head
+inside the open door of the mill.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This creature, M. le Maire; this creature!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Robert Perchon was an undersized youth of some twenty years of
+age, who had escaped military service not only as being the
+eldest son of a widow, but as being in possession of an
+unrivalled squint, which would have excluded him in any case,
+and which would have rendered it really difficult for a drill
+sergeant to have ascertained to his own satisfaction whether,
+at any given moment, the recruit had his &quot;eyes front&quot; or
+behind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, at last! Where is this vagabond? We will settle his
+business in a trice!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Having shouted instructions to his assistant to keep his eyes
+upon the stones, M. le Maire came forth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is in the buck-wheat field! I was going to the little field
+by the river, when, behold! what should I see in the buck-wheat
+field, lying close to the hedge, and yet among the wheat, what
+but this creature, fast asleep! It is so, I give you my word.
+At this time of day, when all honest people are at work, in the
+middle of my field there was this creature, fast asleep. I knew
+him at once, although I have not seen the wretch before; but I
+have heard him described, and there is indeed something
+absolutely diabolical in his aspect even as he lies among my
+buck-wheat fast asleep!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You did not wake him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, no! Why should I wake him? Who knows what injury the
+creature might have done me when he found himself disturbed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then we will wake him, I give you my word. We will capture
+this vagabond. We will discover what there is about him
+diabolical.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The mayor's courage was applauded. There was Robert Perchon,
+his mother--in tears, at the thought of the peril which her son
+had only just escaped--a select assembly of the villagers, and
+the two gorgeous gendarmes from the St. Thégonnec gendarmerie.
+All these people perceived that the mayor was brave.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The assembly started, with the intention of making an example
+of the plunderer of the fields of honest men.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In front was the mayor, not looking particularly dignified, for
+he was white with flour, though void of fear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his hand he carried a mighty stick. Behind him came the
+gendarmes, as was befitting. They had forgotten to buckle on
+their swords, but in their case dignity was everything, and it
+was just possible that the stick of the mayor would render
+more deadly weapons needless. Behind--a pretty good distance
+behind--came the villagers. Some of them carried pitchforks,
+others spades. One gallant lady carried a kettle full of
+boiling water. It did not occur to her, perhaps, that the water
+would have time to cool before they reached their quarry.
+Madame Perchon brought up the rear, and behind her sneaked the
+gallant Robert.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It occurred to the mayor that this was not exactly as it ought
+to be. He suggested to M. Robert that as he alone knew exactly
+where the vagabond lay, it befitted him to lead the van. This,
+however, M. Robert did not see; he preferred to shout out his
+directions from the rear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They entered the buck-wheat field. No persuasions would induce
+him to enter with the rest. He insisted on remaining outside,
+guiding them from a post of safety. His mother stayed to keep
+him company.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By there! a little to the left! Keep straight on! If he has
+not gone, M. le Maire, which is always possible, you can touch
+him with your stick from where you are now standing!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had not gone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The journey was almost done. The end was drawing near.
+Delirious, beside himself, fever-racked, hunger-stricken, not
+knowing what he was doing, the boy had sunk down in Madame
+Perchon's buck-wheat field to sleep. And he had slept--a
+mockery of sleep! A thousand hideous imaginations passed
+through his fevered mind. M. Robert Perchon, who had been
+contented with a single glance at the sleeping lad, had some
+warranty for his declaration that in his aspect there was
+something diabolical, for his limbs writhed and his countenance
+was distorted by the paroxysms of his fever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Dreaming some horrible dream, the noise made by the advancing
+brave fell upon his fevered ear. Starting upright at M.
+Baudry's feet, with a shriek which horrified all who heard him,
+he rushed across the field, and flew as if all the powers of
+evil were treading on his heels. And, indeed, in a sense the
+powers of evil were, for he was delirious with fever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The first impulse of the champions of the fields of honest men
+was to do, with one accord, what the boy had done, to turn and
+flee--the other way. Some, believing Bertie's delirious shriek
+to be the veritable voice of Satan, acted on this first impulse
+and fled. Notable among them were M. Robert and his mother.
+That gallant pair raced each other homewards, shrieking with so
+much vigour that it almost seemed that in that direction they
+had made up their minds to outdo the plunderer of the fields of
+honest men. But there were braver spirits abroad that day.
+Among them was the mayor. Besides, the public eye was upon him,
+and behind him were the two gendarmes. In France the
+representative of authority never runs--at least, he never runs
+away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It is true that when Bertie sprang with such startling
+suddenness from right underneath his feet, and gave utterance
+to that ear-alarming shriek, M. Baudry thought of running. But
+he only thought; it went no further. He would certainly have
+denied that he had even allowed himself to think of such an
+ignominious contingency a moment afterwards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The creature was running away. That was evident. It would be
+absurd for the champions of those fields to run away from him,
+when the rascal had been sensible enough to run away from them.
+M. Baudry perceived this fact at once.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;After him!&quot; he cried. &quot;I give you my word we shall catch him
+yet!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Off went the assembly, helter-skelter, after the delirious boy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Forward! forward! We will teach this rogue a lesson! We will
+teach him to rob the fields of honest men! We will learn the
+stuff that he is made of--this vagabond!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Courage revived. They all shouted, and they all ran.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If the mayor was in the habit of giving his word as lightly as
+he gave it then, it could not have been worth having. It was
+soon evident that they had about as much chance of catching the
+fugitive as they had of catching the clouds which wandered
+above their heads.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">M. Baudry was not built for violent exercise. He had probably
+not run thirty yards in the last thirty years. He was in his
+sabots, and sabots are not good things for running. Fifty paces
+in Madame Perchon's buck-wheat field was quite enough for him.
+He perceived that it is not a proper thing for mayors to run;
+so he ran no more. Instead of running he sat down to think, and
+to encourage, of course, his friends.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The gendarmes kept on. It was evidently their duty to keep on.
+But they were not much fonder of running than the mayor, and a
+gendarme's boots, when it comes to running, are not much more
+satisfactory, regarded as aids to progress, than sabots.
+Especially are gendarmes not built to run across ploughed
+fields.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In fact the chase was prolonged for almost, if not quite, a
+hundred yards. Then it ceased. Most of the champions of the
+fields of honest men sat down upon the fields they championed;
+those who didn't gasped for breath upon their feet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The affair was, perhaps, something of a fiasco, but they
+consoled themselves with the reflection that they would catch
+the vagabond next time, when they could run a little better and
+a little further, and he could run a little worse--or a good
+deal worse, in fact.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But for Bertie the chase was very far from done. He fled, not
+from things of flesh and blood, but from things of air--the
+wild imaginings of fever. On and on and on--over fields and
+hedges, dykes and ditches--on and on and on, until the day
+waned and the night had come.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And in the night his journey ended. Even delirium would no
+longer give strength unto his limbs. His style of going
+changed. Instead of running, like a maddened animal, straight
+forward, he went reeling, reeling, reeling, staggering from
+side to side.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he staggered down.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He rose no more. It was the end of the journey.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>Chapter XXIII</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">THE LAND OF GOLDEN DREAMS</a></h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">When he returned to life he was in his mother's arms. There
+were familiar faces round him, and, as out of a mist, familiar
+voices sounded in his ear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He turned in his bed--for it was on a bed he was lying, and no
+longer on the stony ground--and opened his eyes, waking as from
+a delicious slumber.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some one bent over him; some one laid a hand softly on his
+brow; some one's burning tears fell on his cheek. There was his
+mother standing by his side.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My boy! my boy! Thank God for this, my darling boy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then she kissed him; and she wept.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Out of the mist there came another familiar form. It was his
+father.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bertie! at last! Thank God for this, indeed, my son!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And he, too, stooped and kissed the lad. And the mother rose to
+her feet, and became encircled in her husband's arms; and they
+two rejoiced together over the son who was lost and was found.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had been ill six weeks. Six weeks delirious with fever; six
+weeks hovering between life and death; six weeks' sorrow; six
+weeks' pain. That was the end of his journey.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And it would have had another ending had it not been for the
+providence of God. He would have journeyed into that strange,
+unknown country, whose name is Death, but that he was found by
+the roadside, where he had fallen, and by a friend. It would be
+unwise to say that that friend was not sent to him direct from
+God.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Among his father's patients was a certain Mr. Yates. Mr. Yates
+was a county magistrate, a man of position and of wealth. Under
+God he owed his life to Dr. Bailey's skill. It was to him
+reference has been made as having given Bertie half a sovereign
+once upon a time--half a sovereign which, to Bertie's disgust,
+he had had to divide with his brothers and sisters.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Yates had known the youngster well. He was a bachelor, and
+had allowed the boy to run in and out almost as he pleased. On
+the eve of starting on a tour to Brittany he had heard that the
+young gentleman had disappeared from school, no one knew why,
+no one knew whither. There was a pretty to-do when it was
+known. It was almost the last straw for Mr. Fletcher, that last
+straw which, according to the proverb, breaks the camel's back.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his bewilderment--in the general bewilderment, indeed--Dr.
+Bailey had not hesitated to lay his son's disappearance at Mr.
+Fletcher's door. He declared that he was alone to blame, that
+some act of remissness, some act of even positive cruelty must
+have goaded the lad into taking such a step.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boy had left no trace behind. The distracted father
+advertised for him right and left, placed the matter in the
+hands of the police, seeking for him on every side without
+finding the slightest clue to tell him if his son were alive or
+dead.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Matters were in this state when Mr. Yates had left for
+Brittany. He had been there some days, when, wandering somewhat
+out of the beaten track, he had chartered a carriage at Morlaix
+to take him up among those wind-swept slopes which are
+grandiloquently termed the Montagnes d'Arree, and land him at
+the little town of Huelgoet. There are one or two things which
+people go to see at Huelgoet, but the place became memorable to
+Mr. Yates for what he saw upon the road.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was about half-way to his destination when he observed,
+lying among the furze at the roadside, a lad. He might not have
+noticed him had not the boy been emitting cries of so peculiar
+a kind that they could scarcely have failed to catch a
+traveller's ear. Going to see what was the matter, he perceived
+at once that the lad was delirious with fever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With some difficulty he persuaded the driver of the vehicle to
+convey so dubious a passenger. The same difficulty occurred at
+the Huelgoet hotel before they would let him in. It was only
+when he had undertaken to recoup them for any losses they might
+sustain, and had got the lad comfortably in bed, that he
+discovered that the waif who had found in him such a good
+Samaritan was none other than Bertie Bailey.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p style="text-align:center; letter-spacing: 40px">* * * * * *</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">So soon as they could move him they took him home. And, as he
+entered the old familiar home, he knew in his heart that this
+place which he was entering was in fact the Land of Golden
+Dreams. He had been in search of it afar off, and he had been a
+native of the country all the time. And there are many natives
+of that country who throw away the substance to grasp the
+shadow, not realizing their folly till the thing is done.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p style="text-align:center; letter-spacing: 40px">* * * * * *</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">They never found the &quot;captain&quot; nor &quot;Mr. Rosenheim.&quot; In due time
+Bertie told his story, and the doctor thought it so strange an
+one that he felt in duty bound to communicate with the police.
+A detective came and heard all that Bertie had to say. He asked
+a hundred puzzling questions; but, although not always able to
+answer them to the detective's satisfaction, Bertie stuck to
+his tale. They took him to point out the house which had
+contained the &quot;captain's room,&quot; but he had been a stranger in
+the great city, at night, hungry and worn. He had gone blindly
+where he had been taken, not noticing a single landmark by the
+way, and now when they asked him to retrace his steps, and lead
+them where Freddy had led him, he found it impossible to
+discover the house again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So it came to pass that the police looked at his story with
+doubtful eyes. And for that cause--or some other--nothing has
+been heard of the Countess of Ferndale's jewels unto this day.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr class="W20">
+<h5>Butler &amp; Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Hero of Romance
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Harold Copping
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38160]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HERO OF ROMANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=6DAPAAAAQAAJ
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          A HERO OF ROMANCE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Perhaps you don't know who I am?" (_Page_ 155.)]
+
+_A Hero of Romance_.]                            [_Frontispiece_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          A HERO OF ROMANCE
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+                            RICHARD MARSH
+
+   _Author of "The Datchel Diamonds," "The Crime and the Criminal_"
+                             _etc., etc_.
+
+
+
+
+                    ILLUSTRATED BY HAROLD COPPING
+
+
+
+
+                                LONDON
+
+                       WARD, LOCK & CO. LIMITED
+
+                        NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                               Contents
+
+
+   CHAP.
+
+       I Punishment at Mecklemburg House.
+
+      II Tutor Baiting.
+
+     III At Mother Huffham's.
+
+      IV A Little Drive.
+
+       V An Evening at Washington Villa.
+
+      VI Afterwards.
+
+     VII The Return of the Wanderer.
+
+    VIII Preparing for Flight.
+
+      IX The Start.
+
+       X Another Little Drive.
+
+      XI The Original Badger.
+
+     XII A "Doss" House.
+
+    XIII In Petersham Park.
+
+     XIV In Trouble.
+
+      XV Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.
+
+     XVI The Captain's Room.
+
+    XVII Two Men and a Boy.
+
+   XVIII The Boat-train.
+
+     XIX To Jersey with a Thief.
+
+      XX Exit Captain Tom.
+
+     XXI The Disadvantages of not Being Able to Speak French.
+
+    XXII The End of the Journey.
+
+   XXIII The Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter I
+
+                   PUNISHMENT AT MECKLEMBURG HOUSE
+
+
+It was about as miserable an afternoon as one could wish to see. May
+is the poet's month, but there was nothing of poetry about it then.
+True, it was early in the month, but February never boasted weather of
+more unmitigated misery. At half-past two it was so dark in the
+schoolroom of Mecklemburg House that one could with difficulty see to
+read. Outside a cold drizzling rain was falling, a shrieking east wind
+was rattling the windows in their frames, and a sullen haze was hiding
+the leaden sky. As unsatisfactory a specimen of the English spring as
+one could very well desire.
+
+To make things better, it was half-holiday. Not that it much mattered
+to the young gentleman who was seated in the schoolroom; it was no
+half-holiday to him. A rather tall lad, some fourteen years of age,
+broad and strongly built. This was Bertie Bailey.
+
+Master Bertie Bailey was kept in; and the outrage this was to his
+feelings was altogether too deep for words. To keep him in!--no wonder
+the heavens frowned at such a crime!
+
+Master Bertie Bailey was seated at a desk very much the worse for
+wear; a long desk, divided into separate compartments, which were
+intended to accommodate about a dozen boys. He had his arms upon the
+desk, his face rested on his hands, and he was staring into vacancy
+with an air of tragic gloom.
+
+At the raised desk which stood in front of him before the window was
+seated Mr. Till. Mr. Till's general bearing and demeanour was not much
+more jovial than Master Bertie Bailey's; he was the tyrant usher who
+had kept the youthful victim in. It was with a certain grim pleasure
+that Bertie realized that Mr. Till's enjoyment of the keeping-in was
+perhaps not much more than his own.
+
+Mr. Till had a newspaper in his hand, and had apparently read it
+through, advertisements and all. He looked over the top of it at
+Bertie.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better get on with those lines?" he asked.
+
+Bertie had a hundred lines of _Paradise Lost_ to copy out. He paid no
+attention to the inquiry; he did not even give a sign that he was
+aware he had been spoken to, but continued to sit with his eyes fixed
+on nothing, with the same air of mysterious gloom.
+
+"How many have you done?" Mr. Till came down to see. There was a torn
+copy of Milton's poems lying unopened beside Bertie on the desk; in
+front of him a slate which was quite clean, and no visible signs of a
+slate pencil. Mr. Till took up the slate and carefully examined it for
+anything in the shape of lines.
+
+"So you haven't begun?--why haven't you begun?" No answer. "Do you
+hear me? why haven't you begun?"
+
+Without troubling himself to alter in any way his picturesque posture,
+Bertie made reply,--
+
+"I haven't got a slate pencil."
+
+"You haven't got a slate pencil? Do you mean to tell me you've sat
+there for a whole hour without asking for a slate pencil? I'll soon
+get you one."
+
+Mr. Till went to his desk and produced a piece about as long as his
+little finger, placing it in front of Bertie. Bertie eyed it from a
+corner of his eye.
+
+"It isn't long enough."
+
+"Don't tell me; take your arms off the desk and begin those lines at
+once."
+
+Bertie very leisurely took his arms off the desk, and delicately
+lifted the piece of slate pencil.
+
+"It wants sharpening," he said. He began to look for his knife,
+standing up to facilitate the search. He hunted in all his pockets,
+turning out the contents of each upon the desk; finally, from the
+labyrinthine depths of some mysterious depository in the lining of his
+waistcoat, he produced the ghost of an ancient pocket-knife. As though
+they were fragile treasures of the most priceless kind, he carefully
+replaced the contents of his pockets. Then, at his ease, he commenced
+to give an artistic point to his two-inch piece of slate pencil. Mr.
+Till, who had taken up a position in front of the window with his
+hands under his coat tails, watched the proceedings with anything but
+a gratified countenance.
+
+"That will do," he grimly remarked, when Bertie had considerably
+reduced the original size of his piece of pencil by attempting to
+produce a point of needlelike fineness. Bertie wiped his knife upon
+his coat-sleeve, removed the pencil dust with his pocket-handkerchief,
+and commenced to write. Before he had got half-way through the first
+line a catastrophe occurred.
+
+"I've broken the point," he observed, looking up at Mr. Till with
+innocence in his eyes.
+
+"I tell you what it is," said Mr. Till, "if you don't let me have
+those lines in less than no time I'll double them. Do you think I'm
+going to stop here all the afternoon?"
+
+"You needn't stop," suggested Bertie, looking at his broken pencil.
+
+"I daresay!" snorted Mr. Till. The last time Bertie had been left
+alone in the schoolroom on the occasion of his being kept in, he had
+perpetrated atrocities which had made Mr. Fletcher's hair stand up on
+end. Mr. Fletcher was the head-master. Orders had been given that
+whenever Bertie was punished, somebody was to stay in with him. "Now,
+none of your nonsense; you go on with those lines."
+
+Bertie bent his head with a studious air. A hideous scratching noise
+arose from the slate. Mr. Till clapped his hands to his ears.
+
+"Stop that noise!"
+
+"If you please, sir, I think this pencil scratches," Bertie said.
+Considering that he was holding the pencil perpendicularly, the
+circumstance was not surprising.
+
+"Take my advice, Bailey, and do those lines." Advancing with an
+inflamed countenance, Mr. Till stood over the offending pupil.
+Resuming his studious posture Bertie recommenced to write. He wrote
+two lines, not too quickly, nor by any means too well, but still he
+wrote them. In the middle of the third line another catastrophe
+happened.
+
+"Please, sir, I've broken the pencil right in two." It was quite
+unnecessary for him to say so, the fact was self-evident, though with
+so small a piece it had required no slight exertion of strength and
+some dexterous manipulation to accomplish the feat. The answer was a
+box on the ears.
+
+"What did you do that for?" asked Bertie, rising from his seat, and
+rubbing the injured portion with his hand.
+
+Now it was distinctly understood that Mecklemburg House Collegiate
+School was conducted on the principle of no corporal punishment. It
+was a prominent line in the prospectus. "_Under no circumstances is
+corporal punishment administered_." As a rule the principle was
+consistently carried out to its legitimate conclusion, not with the
+completest satisfaction to every one concerned. Yet Mr. Fletcher, one
+of the most longsuffering of men, and by no means the strictest
+disciplinarian conceivable, had been more than once roused into
+administering short and sharp justice upon refractory youth. But what
+was excusable in Mr. Fletcher was not to be dreamed of in the
+philosophy of anybody else. For an assistant-master to strike a pupil
+was a crime; and Mr. Till knew it, and Master Bertie Bailey knew it
+too.
+
+"What did you do that for?" repeated Bertie.
+
+Mr. Till was crimson. He was not a hasty tempered man, but to-day
+Master Bertie Bailey had been a burden greater than he could bear. Yet
+he had very literally made a false stroke, and Bertie was just the
+young gentleman to make the most of it.
+
+"If I were to tell Mr. Fletcher, he'd turn you off," said Bertie. "He
+turned Mr. Knox off for hitting Harry Goddard."
+
+Harry Goddard's only relation was a maiden aunt, and this maiden aunt
+had peculiar opinions. In her opinion for anybody to lay a punitory
+hand upon her nephew was to commit an act tantamount to sacrilege.
+Harry had had a little difference with Emmett minor, and had borne
+away the blushing honours of a bloody nose and a black eye with
+considerable _sang-froid_; but when Mr. Knox resented his filling his
+best hat with half-melted snow by presenting him with two or three
+smart taps upon a particular portion of his frame, Harry wrote home to
+his aunt to complain of the indignity he had endured. The result was
+that the ancient spinster at once removed the outraged youth from the
+sanguinary precincts of Mecklemburg House, and that Mr. Fletcher
+dismissed the offending usher.
+
+As Mr. Till stood eyeing his refractory pupil, all this came forcibly
+to his mind. He knew something more than Bertie did; he knew that when
+Mr. Fletcher, smarting at the loss of a remunerative pupil, had made
+short work of his unfortunate assistant, he had also taken advantage
+of the occasion to call Mr. Till into his magisterial presence, and to
+then and there inform him, that should he at any time lay his hand
+upon a pupil, under any provocation of any kind whatever, the result
+would be that Mr. Knox's case would be taken as a precedent, and he
+would be instantaneously dismissed.
+
+And now he had struck Bertie, and here was Bertie threatening to
+inform his employer of what he had done.
+
+"If you don't let me off these lines," said Bertie, pursuing his
+advantage, "I'll tell Mr. Fletcher as soon as he comes home, you see
+if I don't."
+
+Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was not a scholastic establishment
+of any particular eminence; indeed, whatever eminence it possessed was
+of an unsavoury kind. Nor was the position of its assistant-master at
+all an enviable one. There was the senior assistant, Mr. Till, and
+there was the junior, Mr. Shane. Mr. Till received L30 a year, and Mr.
+Shane, a meek, melancholy youth of about seventeen, received sixteen.
+Nor could the duties of either of these gentlemen be considered light.
+But if the pay was small and the work large, the intellectual
+qualifications required were by no means of an unreasonable kind.
+Establishments of the Mecklemburg House type are fading fast away.
+English private schools are improving every day. Mr. Till, conscious
+of his deficiencies, was only too well aware that if he lost his
+present situation, another would be hard to find. So, in the face of
+Bertie's threat, he temporized.
+
+"I didn't mean to hit you! You shouldn't exasperate me!"
+
+Bertie looked him up and down. If ever there was a young gentleman who
+needed the guidance of a strong hand, Bertie was he. He was not a
+naturally bad boy,--few boys are,--but he hated work, and he scorned
+authority. All means were justifiable which enabled him to shirk the
+one and defy the other. He was just one of those boys who might become
+bad if he was not brought to realize the difference between good and
+evil, right and wrong. And it would need sharp discipline to bring him
+to such knowledge.
+
+He had a supreme contempt for Mr. Till. All the boys had. The only
+person they despised more was Mr. Shane. It was the natural result of
+the system pursued at Mecklemburg House that the masters were looked
+upon by their pupils as quite unworthy their serious attention.
+
+Bertie had had about a dozen impositions inflicted on him even within
+the last days. He had not done one of them. He never did do them. None
+of the boys ever did do impositions set them by anybody but Mr.
+Fletcher. They did not by any means make a point of doing his.
+
+"You will do me fifty lines," Mr. Till would say to half a dozen boys
+half a dozen times over in the course of a single morning. He spoke to
+the wind; no one ever did them, no one would have been so much
+surprised as Mr. Till if they had been done.
+
+On the present occasion Mr. Fletcher had gone to town on business, and
+Mr. Till had been left in supreme authority. Bailey had signalised the
+occasion by behaving in a manner so outrageous that, if any semblance
+of authority was to be kept at all, it was altogether impossible to
+let him go scot free. As it was a half-holiday, Mr. Till had announced
+his unalterable resolve that Bertie should copy out a hundred lines of
+_Paradise Lost_, and that he should not leave the schoolroom till he
+had written them.
+
+The result so far had not been satisfactory. He had been in the
+schoolroom considerably over an hour; he had written not quite three
+lines, and here he was telling Mr. Till that if he did not let him off
+entirely he would turn the tables on his master, and make matters
+unpleasant for him. It looked as though Bertie would win the game.
+
+Having taken the tutor's mental measure, he thrust his hands into his
+trousers pockets, and coolly seated himself upon the desk. Then he
+made the following observation,--
+
+"I tell you what it is, old Till, I don't care a snap for you."
+
+Mr. Till simply glared. He realized, not for the first time, that the
+pupil was too much for the master. Bertie continued,--
+
+"My father always pays regularly in advance. If I wrote home and told
+him that you'd hit me, for nothing"--Bertie paused and fixed his stony
+gaze on Mr. Till--"he'd take me home at once, and then what would
+Fletcher say?" Bertie paused again, and pointed his thumb over his
+left shoulder. "He'd say, 'Walk it'!"
+
+This was one way of putting it. Though Mr. Bailey was by no means such
+a foolish person as his son suggested. He was very much unlike Harry
+Goddard's maiden aunt. Had Bertie written home any such letter of
+complaint--which, by the way, he was far too wise to have dreamed of
+doing--the consequences would in all probability have been the worse
+for him. The father knew his son too well to be caught with chaff.
+Unfortunately, Mr. Till did not know this; he had Mr. Knox's fate
+before his eyes.
+
+"You'd better let me off these lines," pursued the inexorable Bertie;
+"you'd better, you know."
+
+"You're an impudent young----" But Bertie interrupted him.
+
+"Now don't call me names, or I'll tell Fletcher. He only said the
+other day that all his pupils were to be treated like young
+gentlemen."
+
+"Young gentlemen!" snorted Mr. Till with scorn.
+
+"Yes, young gentlemen. And don't you say we're not young gentlemen,
+because Mecklemburg House Collegiate School is an establishment for
+young gentlemen." And Bertie grinned. "You'd better let me off these
+lines, you know."
+
+"You know I never hurt you; you shouldn't exasperate me; you're the
+most exasperating boy I ever knew; there's absolutely no bearing with
+your insolence! You'd try the patience of a saint."
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if I was deaf for a week." He rubbed the
+injured part reflectively. "I've heard Fletcher say it's dangerous to
+hit a fellow on the ear. You'd better let me off those lines, you
+know."
+
+Mr. Till, fidgeting about the room, suddenly burst into eloquence. "I
+wonder if it's any use appealing to your better nature? They say boys
+have a better nature, though I never remember to have seen much of it.
+What pleasure do you find in making my life unbearable? What have I
+ever done to you that you should try to drive me mad? Are you
+naturally cruel? My sole aim is for your future welfare! Your sole aim
+is for my ruin!"
+
+Bertie continued to rub his ear.
+
+"Bailey, if I let you off these lines will you promise to try to give
+me less cause to punish you?"
+
+"You can't help letting me off them anyhow," said Bertie.
+
+"Can't I? I suppose, young gentleman, you think you're getting the
+best of me?"
+
+"I know I am," said Bertie.
+
+"Oh, you know you are! Then let me do my best to relieve you of that
+delusion. Shall I tell you what you are doing? You're doing your best
+to sow the seeds of a shameful manhood and a wasted life; if you don't
+take care you'll reap the harvest by-and-by! It isn't only that you're
+refusing to avail yourself of opportunities of education, you're doing
+yourself much greater harm than that. You think you're getting the
+best of me; but shall I tell you what's getting the best of you?--a
+mean, cruel, cowardly spirit, which will be to you a sterner master
+than ever I have been. You think yourself brave because you jeer and
+mock at me, and flout all my commands! Why, my boy, were I better
+circumstanced, and free to act upon my own discretion, you would
+tremble in your shoes! The very fact of your permitting yourself to
+threaten me, on account of punishment which you know was perfectly
+well deserved, shows what sort of boy you are!"
+
+Bertie's only comment was, "You had better let me off those lines."
+
+"I will let you off the lines!"
+
+Bertie sprang to his feet, and began to put slate and book away with
+abundance of clatter.
+
+"Stay one moment--leave those things alone! It is not the punishment
+which degrades a man, Bailey; it is the thing of which he has been
+guilty. I cannot degrade you; it is yourself you are degrading. Take
+my advice, turn over a new leaf, learn not to take advantage of a man
+whose only offence is that he does his best to do you good; don't
+think yourself brave because you venture to attack where defence is
+impossible; and, above all, don't pride yourself on taking your pigs
+to a bad market. You are so foolish as to think yourself clever
+because you throw away all your best chances, and get absolutely worse
+than nothing in return. Bailey, get your Bible, and look for a verse
+which runs something like this, 'Cast your bread upon the waters, and
+you shall find it after many days.' Now you can go."
+
+And Bertie went; and, being in the safe neighbourhood of the door, he
+put his fingers to his nose; by which Mr. Till knew, not for the first
+time, that he had spoken in vain.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter II
+
+                            TUTOR BAITING
+
+
+There were twenty-seven boys at Mecklemburg House; and even this small
+number bade fair to decrease. Last term there had been thirty-three;
+the term before there had been forty. Within quite recent years
+considerably over a hundred boys had occupied the draughty dormitories
+of the great old red-brick house.
+
+But the glory was departing. It is odd how little our fathers and our
+grandfathers in general knew or cared about the science of education.
+Boys were pitchforked into schools which had absolutely nothing to
+recommend them except a flourishing prospectus; schools in which
+nothing was taught, in which the physique of the lads was neglected,
+and in which their moral nature was treated as a thing which had no
+existence. A large number of "schoolmasters" had no more idea of true
+education than they had of flying. They were speculators pure and
+simple, and they treated their boys as goods out of which they were to
+screw as much money as they possibly could, and in the shortest
+possible space of time.
+
+Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was a case in point. It had been a
+school ever since the first of the Georges; and it is, perhaps, not
+too much to say, that out of the large number of boys who had been
+educated beneath its roof, not one of them had received a wholesome
+education. Yet it had always been a paying property. More than one of
+its principals had retired with a comfortable competency. Certainly
+the number of its pupils had never stood at such a low ebb as at the
+time of which we tell. Why the number should be so uncomfortably low
+was a mystery to its present principal, Beauclerk Fletcher. The place
+had belonged to his father, and his father had always found it bring
+something more than daily bread. But even daily bread was beginning to
+fail with Beauclerk Fletcher. Twenty-seven pupils at such a place as
+Mecklemburg House! and the majority of them upon "reduced terms"! Mr.
+Fletcher, never the most enterprising of men, was beginning to be
+overwhelmed beneath an avalanche of debt, and to feel that the fight
+was beyond his strength.
+
+A great, old, rambling red-brick house, about equi-distant from
+Cobham, Byfleet, Weybridge--all towns in Surrey--lying in about the
+middle of the irregular square which those four towns form, the house
+carried the story of its decaying glories upon its countenance. Those
+Georgian houses were solid structures, and the mere fabric was in
+about as good a condition as it had ever been! but in the exterior of
+the building the change was sadly for the worse. Many of the rooms
+were unoccupied, panes were broken in the windows, curtains were
+wanting, the windows looked as though they were seldom or never
+cleaned. The whole place looked as though it were neglected, which
+indeed it was. Slates were off the roof, waste water pipes hung loose
+and rattled in every passing breeze. As to the paved courtyard in
+front, grass and weeds and moss almost hid the original stones. Mr.
+Fletcher was only too conscious of the story all this told; but to put
+things shipshape and neat, and to keep them so, required far more
+money than he had to spend; so he only groaned at each new evidence of
+ruin and decay.
+
+The internal arrangements, the domestic economy, the whole system of
+education, everything in connection with Mecklemburg House was in the
+same state of decrepitude and age--worn-out traditions rather than
+living things. And Mr. Fletcher was very far from being the man to
+breathe life into the dead bones and bid them live. The struggle was
+beyond his strength.
+
+There is no creature in God's world sharper than the average boy, no
+one quicker to understand the strength of the hand which holds him.
+The youngest pupil at Mecklemburg House was perfectly aware that the
+school was a "duffing" school, that Mr. Fletcher was a "duffing"
+principal, and that everything about the place was "duffing"
+altogether. Only let a boy have this opinion about his school, and, so
+far as any benefit is concerned which he is likely to derive from his
+sojourn there, he might almost as profitably be transported to the
+Cannibal Islands.
+
+On the half-holiday on which our story opens, the pupils of
+Mecklemburg House were disporting themselves in what was called the
+playroom. Formerly, in its prosperous days, the room had been used as
+a second schoolroom, the one at present used for that purpose being
+not nearly large enough to contain the pupils. But those days were
+gone; at present, so far from being overcrowded, the room looked
+empty, and could have with ease accommodated twice the whole number of
+pupils which the school contained. So what was once the schoolroom was
+called the playroom instead.
+
+"Stupid nonsense! keeping a fellow in because it rains!" said Charles
+Griffin, looking through the dirty window at the grimy world without.
+
+"It doesn't rain," declared Dick Ellis. "Call this rain! I say, Mr.
+Shane, can't we go down to the village? I want to get something for
+this cough of mine; it's frightful." And with some difficulty Dick
+managed to produce a sepulchral cough from somewhere about the region
+of his boots.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher says you are not to go out while it rains," answered
+Mr. Shane in his mildest possible manner.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher!" grunted Dick. At Mecklemburg House the grey mare was
+the better horse. If Mr. Fletcher was not an ideal head-master, Mrs.
+Fletcher was emphatically head-mistress.
+
+That half-holiday was a pleasant one for Mr. Shane. It was a rule that
+the boys were never to be left alone. If they were out a master was to
+go with them, if they were in a master was to supervise. So, as Mr.
+Till was engaged with the refractory Bertie, Mr. Shane was in charge
+of the play-room.
+
+In charge, literally, and in terror, too. For it may be maintained
+without the slightest exaggeration, that he was much more afraid of
+the boys than the boys of him. On what principle of selection Mr.
+Fletcher chose his assistant-masters it is difficult to say; but
+whatever else Mr. Shane was, a disciplinarian he certainly was not. He
+was the mildest-mannered young man conceivable, awkward, shy, slight,
+thin, not bad-looking, with a faint, watery smile, which at times gave
+quite a ghastly appearance to his countenance, and a deprecatory
+manner which seemed to say that you had only to let him alone to earn
+his eternal gratitude. But the boys never did let him alone, never. By
+day and night, awake and sleeping, they did their best to make his
+life a continual misery.
+
+"If we can't go out," suggests Griffin, "I vote we have a lark with
+Shane."
+
+Mr. Shane smiled, by no means jovially.
+
+"You mustn't make a noise," he murmured, in that soft, almost
+effeminate voice of his. "Mrs. Fletcher particularly said you were not
+to make a noise."
+
+"Right you are. I say, Shane, you stand against the wall, and let's
+shy things at you." This from Griffin.
+
+"You're not to throw things about," said Mr. Shane.
+
+"Then what are we to do, that's what I want to know? It seems to me
+we're not to do anything. I never saw such a beastly hole! I say,
+Shane, let half of us get hold of one of your arms, and the other half
+of the other, and have a pull at you--tug-of-war, you know. We won't
+make a noise."
+
+Mr. Shane did not seem to consider the proposal tempting. He was
+seated in the window, and had a book on his knees which he wanted to
+read. Not a work of light literature, but a German grammar. It was the
+dream of his life to prepare himself for matriculation at the London
+University. This undersized youth was a student born; he had company
+which never failed him, a company of dreams. He dreamed of a future in
+which he was a scholar of renown; and in every moment he could steal
+he strove to bring himself a step nearer to the realization of his
+dreams.
+
+"Get up, Shane!--what's that old book you've got?" Griffin made a
+snatch at the grammar. Mr. Shane jealously put it behind his back.
+Books were in his eyes things too precious to be roughly handled.
+"Come and have a lark; what an old mope you are!" Griffin caught him
+by the arm and swung him round into the room; the boy was as tall, and
+probably as strong as the usher.
+
+The boys were chiefly engaged in doing nothing; nobody ever did do
+much in that establishment. If a boy had a hobby it was laughed out of
+him. Literature was at a discount: _Spring-Heeled Jack_ and _The
+Knights of the Road_ were the sort of works chiefly in request. There
+was no school library, none of the boys seemed to have any books of
+their own. There was neither cricket nor football, no healthy games of
+any sort. Even in the playground the principal occupation was loafing,
+with a little occasional bullying thrown in. Mr. Fletcher was too
+immersed in the troubles of pounds, shillings, and pence to have any
+time to spare for the amusements of the boys. Mr. Till was not
+athletic. Mr. Shane still less so. On fine afternoons the boys were
+packed off with the ushers for a walk, but no more spiritless
+expeditions could be imagined than the walks at Mecklemburg House. The
+result was that the youngsters' life was a wearisome monotony, and
+they were in perpetual mischief for sheer want of anything else to do.
+And mischief so often took the shape of cruelty.
+
+Charlie Griffin swung Mr. Shane out into the middle of the room, and
+immediately one boy after another came stealing up to him.
+
+"I say, Shane, let's play roley-poley with you," said Brown major.
+Some one in the rear threw a hard pellet of brown paper, which struck
+Mr. Shane smartly on the head. He winced.
+
+"Who threw that?" asked Griffin. "I say, Shane, why don't you whack
+him? If I were a man I wouldn't let little boys throw things at me;
+you are a man, aren't you, Shane?" He gave another jerk to the arm
+which he still held.
+
+"You're not to pull my arm, Griffin; you hurt me. I wonder why you
+boys can't leave me alone."
+
+"Go along! not really! We're only having a game, Shane; we're not in
+school, you know. What shall we do with him, you fellows? I vote we
+tie him in a chair, and stick needles and pins into him; he's sure to
+like that--he's such a jolly old fellow, Shane is."
+
+"Why don't you let us go out?" asked Ellis.
+
+"You know Mrs. Fletcher said you were not to go."
+
+"Oh, bother Mrs. Fletcher! what's that got to do with it? We won't
+tell her if you let us go."
+
+Mr. Shane sighed. Had it rested with him he would have been only too
+glad to let them go. Two or three hours of his own company would have
+been like a glimpse of paradise. But there was Mrs. Fletcher; she was
+a lady whose indignation was not to be lightly faced.
+
+"If you won't let us go," said Ellis, "we'll make it hot for you. Do
+you think we're a lot of babies, to be melted by a drop of rain?"
+
+"You know it's no use asking me. Mrs. Fletcher said you were not to go
+out if it rained, and it is raining."
+
+"It's not raining," boldly declared Griffin. "Call this rain! why,
+it's not enough to wet a cat! I never saw such a molly-coddle set-out.
+I go out when I'm at home if it pours cats and dogs; nobody minds; why
+should they? Come on, Shane, let's go, there's a trump; we won't
+sneak, and we'll be back in half a jiff.
+
+"I wish you would let me alone," said Mr. Shane. Somebody snatched his
+book out of his hand. He turned swiftly to recover it, but the captor
+was out of reach. "Give me my book!" he cried. "How dare you take my
+book!"
+
+"Here's a lark! catch hold, Griffin." Mr. Shane, hurrying to recover
+his treasure, saw it dexterously thrown above his reach into the hands
+of Charlie Griffin.
+
+"Give me my book, Griffin!" And he made a rush at Griffin.
+
+"Catch, boys!" Griffin threw the book to some one else before Mr.
+Shane could reach him. It was thrown from one to the other, from end
+to end of the room, probably not being improved by the way in which it
+was handled.
+
+The usher stood in the midst of the laughing boys, a picture of
+helplessness. The grammar had cost him half a crown at a second-hand
+bookstall. Half a crown represented to him a handsome sum. There were
+many claims upon his sixteen pounds a year; he had to think once, and
+twice, and thrice before he spent half a crown upon a book. His books
+were to him his children. In those dreams of future glory his books
+were his constant companions, his open sesame, his royal road to fame;
+with their aid he could do so much, without their aid so little. So
+now and then he ventured to spend half a crown upon a volume which he
+wanted.
+
+The grammar, being badly aimed, fell just in front of him. He made a
+dash at it. Some one gave him a push and he fell sprawling on the
+floor; but he seized the book with his left hand. Griffin, falling on
+it tooth and nail, caught hold of it before he could secure it from
+danger. There was a rush of half a dozen. Every one wanted a finger in
+the pie. The grammar was clutched by half a dozen hands at once. The
+back was rent off, leaves pulled out, the book was torn to shreds. Mr.
+Shane lay on the floor, with the ruins of his grammar in his hands.
+
+Just then Bertie Bailey entered the room, victorious from his contest
+with Mr. Till. A shout of welcome greeted him.
+
+"Hullo, Bailey! have you done the lines?"
+
+Bertie, a deliberate youth as a rule, took his time to answer. He
+surveyed the scene, then he put his fingers to his nose, repeating the
+gesture with which he had retreated from Mr. Till.
+
+"Catch me at it!--think I'm a silly?" Then he put his hands into his
+pockets, and slouched into the centre of the room. The boys crowded
+round him.
+
+"Did he let you off?" asked Griffin.
+
+"Of course he let me off; I made him: he knew better than to try to
+make me do his lines."
+
+Then he told the story; the boys laughed. The way in which the ushers
+were compelled to stultify themselves was a standing joke at
+Mecklemburg House. That Mr. Till should have been forced to eat his
+own words, and to let insubordination go unpunished, was a humorous
+idea to them.
+
+Mr. Shane still remained upon the floor. He was engaged in gathering
+together the remnants of his grammar. Perhaps a pot of paste, with
+patient manipulation, might restore it yet. He would give himself a
+great deal of labour to avoid the expenditure of another half-crown;
+perhaps he had not another half-crown to spend.
+
+"What's the row?" asked Bertie, seeing Mr. Shane engaged in gathering
+up the fragmentary leaves. They told him.
+
+"I'm going out," said Bailey, "and I should like to see anybody stop
+me. I say, Mr. Shane, I want to go down to the village."
+
+Mr. Shane repeated his stock phrase.
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out while it rained." He had
+collected all the remnants of his grammar, and was rising with them in
+his hand.
+
+"Give me hold!" exclaimed Bertie; and he snatched what was left of the
+book out of the usher's hands.
+
+"Bailey!" cried Mr. Shane.
+
+"Look here, I want to go down to the village. I suppose I may, mayn't
+I?"
+
+"Mrs. Fletcher said no one was to go out if it rained," stammered Mr.
+Shane.
+
+"If you don't let me go, I'll burn this rubbish!" Bertie flourished
+the ruined grammar in the tutor's face. Mr. Shane made a dart to
+recover his property; but Bertie was too quick for him, and sprang
+aside beyond his reach. It is not improbable that if it had come to a
+tussle Mr. Shane would have got the worst of it.
+
+"Who's got a match?" asked Bertie. Some one produced half a dozen.
+"Will you let me go?"
+
+"Don't burn it," said Mr. Shane. "It cost me half a crown; I only
+bought it last week."
+
+"Then let me go."
+
+"What'll Mrs. Fletcher say?"
+
+"How's she to know unless you tell her? I'll be back before tea. I
+don't care if it cost you a hundred half-crowns, I'll burn it. Make up
+your mind. Is it going to cost you half a crown to keep me in?"
+
+Bertie struck a match. Mr. Shane attempted to rush forward to put it
+out, but some of the boys held him back. His heart went out to his
+book as though it were a child.
+
+"If I let you go, you promise me to be back within half an hour? I
+don't know what Mrs. Fletcher will say if she should hear of it;--and
+don't get wet."
+
+"I'll promise you fast enough. Mrs. Fletcher won't hear of it; and
+what if she does? She can't eat you. You needn't be afraid of my
+getting wet."
+
+"I shan't let anybody else go."
+
+"Oh yes, you will! You'll let Griffin and Ellis go; you don't think
+I'm going all that way alone?"
+
+"And me!" cried Edgar Wheeler. Pretty nearly all the other boys joined
+him in the cry.
+
+"I am not going to have all you fellows coming with me," announced
+Bertie. "Wheeler can come; but as for the rest of you, you can stay at
+home and go to bed--that's the best place for little chaps like you.
+Now then, Shane, look alive; is it going to cost you half a crown, or
+isn't it?"
+
+Mr. Shane sighed. If ever there was a case of a round peg in a square
+hole, Mr. Shane's position at Mecklemburg House was a case in point.
+The youth, for he was but a youth, was a good youth; he had an
+earnest, honest, practical belief in God; but surely God never
+intended him for an assistant-master. Perhaps in the years to come he
+might drift into the place which had been prepared for him in the
+world, but it was difficult to believe that he was in it now. A
+studious dreamer, who did nothing but dream and study, he would have
+been no more out of his element in a bear garden than in the extremely
+difficult and eminently unsatisfactory position which he was
+supposed--it was veritable supposition--to fill at Mecklemburg House.
+
+"How many of you want to go?"
+
+"There's me,"--Bertie was not the boy to take the bottom seat--"and
+Griffin, and Ellis, and Wheeler, that's all. Now what is the good of
+keeping messing about like this?"
+
+"You're sure you won't be more than half an hour?"
+
+"Oh, sure as sticks."
+
+"And what shall I say to Mrs. Fletcher if she finds out? You're sure
+to lay all the blame on me." Mr. Shane had a prophetic eye.
+
+"Say you thought it didn't rain."
+
+"I don't think it does rain much." Mr. Shane looked out of the window,
+and salved his conscience with the thought. "Well, if you're quite
+sure you won't get wet, and you won't be more than half an
+hour--you--can--go." The latter three words came out, as it were,
+edgeways and with difficulty from the speaker's mouth, as if even he
+found the humiliation of his attitude difficult to swallow.
+
+"Come along, boys!--here's your old book!" Bertie flung the grammar
+into the air, the leaves went flying in all directions, the four boys
+went clattering out of the room with noise enough for twenty, and Mr.
+Shane was left to recover his dignity and collect the scattered volume
+at his leisure.
+
+But Nemesis awaited him. No sooner had the conquering heroes
+disappeared than an urchin, not more than eight or nine years of age,
+catching up one of the precious leaves, exclaimed,--
+
+"Let's tear the thing to pieces!" The speaker was little Willie
+Seymour, Bertie Bailey's cousin. It was his first term at school, but
+he already bade fair to do credit to the system of education pursued
+at Mecklemburg House.
+
+"Right you are, youngster," said Fred Philpotts, an elder boy. "It's a
+burning shame to let them go and keep us in. Let's tear it all to
+pieces."
+
+And they did. There was a sudden raid upon the scattered leaves; at
+the mercy of twenty pairs of mischievous hands, they were soon reduced
+to atoms so minute as to be altogether beyond the hope of any possible
+recovery. Nothing short of a miracle could make those tiny scraps of
+printed paper into a book again. And seeing it was so Mr. Shane leaned
+his head against the window-pane and cried.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter III
+
+                         AT MOTHER HUFFHAM'S
+
+
+It was only when Bailey and his friends were away from the house that
+it occurred to them to consider what it was they had come out for.
+They slunk across the grass-grown courtyard, keeping as close to the
+wall as possible, to avoid the lynx-eyes of Mrs. Fletcher. That lady
+was the only person in Mecklemburg House whose authority was not
+entirely contemned. Let who would be master, she would be mistress;
+and she had a way of impressing that fact upon those around her which
+made it quite impossible for those who came within reach of her
+influence to avoid respecting.
+
+It was truly miserable weather. Any one but a schoolboy would have
+been only too happy to have had a roof of any kind to shelter him, but
+schoolboys are peculiar. It was one of those damp mists which not only
+penetrate through the thickest clothing, and soak one to the skin, but
+which render it difficult to see twenty yards in front of one, even in
+the middle of the day. The day was drawing in; ere long the lamps
+would be lighted; the world was already enshrouded in funeral gloom.
+Not a pleasant afternoon to choose for an expedition to nowhere in
+particular, in quest of nothing at all.
+
+The boys slunk through the sodden mist, hands in their pockets, coat
+collars turned up about their ears, hats rammed down over their eyes,
+looking anything but a cheerful company. Griffin asked a question.
+
+"I say, Bailey, where are you going?"
+
+"To the village."
+
+"What are you going to the village for?" This from Ellis.
+
+"For what I am."
+
+After this short specimen of convivial conversation the four trudged
+on. Alas for their promise to Mr. Shane! The wet was already dripping
+off their hats, and splashings of mud were ascending up the legs of
+their trousers to about the middle of their back. In a minute or two
+Wheeler began again.
+
+"Have you got any money?"
+
+Bertie pulled up short. "Have you?" he asked.
+
+"I've got sevenpence."
+
+"Then lend me half?"
+
+"Lend me a penny? I'll pay you next week; honour bright, I will," said
+Ellis.
+
+Griffin was more concise. "Lend me twopence?" he asked.
+
+Wheeler looked unhappy. It appeared that he was the only capitalist
+among the four, and under the circumstances he did not feel exactly
+proud of the position. Although sevenpence might do very well for one,
+it would not be improved by quartering.
+
+"Yes, I know, I daresay," he grumbled. "You're very fond of borrowing,
+but you're not so fond of paying back again." He trudged on stolidly.
+
+Bailey caught him by the arm. "You don't mean that you're not going to
+lend me anything, after my asking for you to come out with me, and
+all?"
+
+"I'll lend you twopence."
+
+"Twopence! What's twopence?"
+
+"It's all you'll get; you can have it or lump it, I don't care;
+I'm not dead nuts on lending you anything." Wheeler was a little
+wiry-built boy, and when he meant a thing very much indeed he had an
+almost terrier-like habit of snapping his jaws--he snapped them now.
+Bailey trudged by his side with an air of dudgeon; he probably
+reflected that, after all, twopence was better than nothing. But Ellis
+and Griffin had their claims to urge. They apparently did not
+contemplate with pleasure the prospect of tramping to and from the
+village for the sake of the exercise alone. Ellis began,--
+
+"I say, old fellow, you'll lend me a penny, won't you? I'm always game
+for lending you."
+
+"Look here, I tell you what it is, I won't lend you a blessed
+farthing! It's like your cheek to ask me; you owe me ninepence from
+last term."
+
+"But I expect a letter from home in the morning with some money in it.
+I'll pay you the ninepence with threepence interest--I'll pay you
+eighteenpence--you see if I don't. And if you'll lend me a penny now
+I'll give you twopence for it in the morning. Do now, there's a good
+fellow, Wheeler; honour bright, I will."
+
+For answer Wheeler put his finger to his eye and raised the eyelid.
+"See any green in my eye?" he said.
+
+"You're a selfish beast!" replied his friend. And so the four trudged
+on. Then Griffin made his attempt.
+
+"I'll let you have that knife, Wheeler, if you like."
+
+"I don't want the knife."
+
+"You can have it for threepence."
+
+"I don't want it for threepence."
+
+"You offered me fourpence for it yesterday."
+
+"I've changed my mind."
+
+Charlie pondered the matter in his mind. They were about half-way to
+their destination, and already bore a closer resemblance to drowned
+rats than living schoolboys. By the time they had gone there and back
+again, it would be possible to wring the water out of their clothes;
+what Mrs. Fletcher would have to say remained to be seen. After they
+had gone a few yards further, and paddled through about half a dozen
+more puddles, Charlie began again.
+
+"I'll let you have it for twopence."
+
+"I don't want it for twopence."
+
+"It's a good knife." No answer. "It cost a shilling." Still no answer.
+"There's only one blade broken." Still no reply. "And that's only got
+a bit off near the point." Still silence. "It's a jolly good knife."
+Then, with a groan, "I'll let you have it for a penny."
+
+"I wouldn't give you a smack in the eye for it."
+
+After receiving this truly elegant and generous reply, Griffin
+subsided into speechless misery. It is not improbable that, so far as
+he was himself concerned, he began to think that the expedition was a
+failure.
+
+In silence they reached the village. It was not a village of
+portentous magnitude, since it only contained thirteen cottages and
+one shop, the shop being the smallest cottage in the place. The
+only point in its favour was that it was the nearest commercial
+establishment to Mecklemburg House. The proprietor was a Mrs. Huffham,
+an ancient lady, with a very bad temper, and a still worse
+reputation--among the boys--for honesty in the direction of weights
+and measures. It must be conceded that they could have had no worse
+opinion of her than she had of them.
+
+"Them young warmints, if they wants to buy a thing they wants ninety
+ounces to the pound, and if they wants to pay for it, they wants you
+to take eightpence for a shilling--oh, I knows 'em!" So Mrs. Huffham
+declared.
+
+At the door of this emporium parley was held. Ellis suddenly
+remembered something.
+
+"I say, I owe old Mother Huffham two-and-three." So far as the
+gathering mist and the soaking rain enabled one to see, Dick's
+countenance wore a lugubrious expression.
+
+"Well, what of that?"
+
+"Well"--Dick Ellis hesitated--"so long as that brute Stephen isn't
+about the place I don't mind. He called out after me the other day,
+that if I didn't pay he'd take the change out of me some other way."
+
+The Stephen referred to was Mrs. Huffham's grandson, a stalwart young
+fellow of twenty-one or two, who drove the carrier's cart to Kingston
+and back. His ideas on pecuniary obligations were primitive. Having
+learned from experience that it was vain to expect Mr. Fletcher to pay
+his pupils' debts at the village shop, he had an uncomfortable way of
+taking it out of refractory debtors in the shape of personal
+chastisement. Endless disputes had arisen in consequence. Mr. Fletcher
+had on more than one occasion threatened the summary Stephen with the
+terrors of the law; but Stephen had snapped his fingers at Mr.
+Fletcher, advising him to pay his own debts, lest worse things
+happened to him. Then Mr. Fletcher had forbidden Mrs. Huffham to give
+credit to the boys; but Mrs. Huffham was an obstinate old lady, and
+treated the headmaster with no more deference than her grandson.
+Finally, Mr. Fletcher had forbidden the boys to deal with Mrs.
+Huffham; but in spite of his prohibition an active commerce was
+carried on, and on more than one occasion the irate Stephen had been
+moved to violence.
+
+"You should have stopped at home," was Wheeler's not unreasonable
+reply to Dick's confession. "I don't owe her anything. I don't see
+what you wanted to come for, anyhow, if you haven't got any money and
+you owe her two-and-three."
+
+And turning the handle of the rickety door he entered Mrs. Huffham's
+famed establishment. Bailey, rich in the possession of a prospective
+loan of twopence, and Charlie Griffin followed close upon his heels.
+After hesitating for a moment Ellis went in too. To remain shivering
+outside would have been such a lame conclusion to a not otherwise too
+satisfactory expedition, that it seemed to him like the last straw on
+the camel's back. Besides, it was quite on the cards that the
+impetuous Stephen would be engaged in his carrier's work, and be
+pleasantly conspicuous by his absence from home.
+
+The interior of the shop was pitchy dark. The little light
+which remained without declined to penetrate through the small
+lozenge-shaped windowpanes. Mrs. Huffham's lamp was not yet lit, and
+the obscurity was increased by the quantity of goods, of almost every
+description, which crowded to overflowing the tiny shop. No one came.
+
+"Let's nick something," suggested the virtuously minded Griffin. Ellis
+acted on the hint.
+
+"I'm not going there and back for nothing, I can tell you."
+
+On a little shelf at the side of the shop stood certain bottles of
+sweets. Dick reached up to get one down. At that moment Wheeler gave
+him a jerk with his arm. Ellis, catching at the shelf to steady
+himself, brought down shelf, bottles and all, with a crash upon a
+counter.
+
+"Thieves!" cried a voice within. "Thieves!" and Mrs. Huffham came
+clattering into the shop, out of some inner sanctum, with considerable
+haste for one of her mature years. "Thieves!"
+
+For some moments the old lady's eyes could see nothing in the darkness
+of the shop. She stood, half in, half out, peering forward, where the
+boys could just see her dimly in the shadow. They, deeming discretion
+to be the better part of valour, and not knowing what damage they
+might not have done, stood still as mice. Their first impulse was to
+turn and flee, and Griffin was just feeling for the handle of the
+door, preparatory to making a bolt for it, when heavy footsteps were
+heard approaching outside, and the door was flung open with a force
+which all but threw Griffin back upon his friends.
+
+"Hullo!" said a voice; "is anybody in there?"
+
+It was Stephen Huffham. With all their hearts the boys wished they had
+respected authority and listened to Mr. Shane! There was a coolness
+and promptness about Stephen Huffham's method of taking the law into
+his own hands upon emergency which formed the basis of many a tale of
+terror to which they had listened when tucked between the sheets at
+night in bed.
+
+Mr. Huffham waited for no reply to his question, but he laid an iron
+hand upon Griffin's shoulder and dragged him out into the light.
+
+"Come out of that! Oh, it's you, is it?" Charlie was gifted with
+considerable powers of denial, but he found it quite beyond his power
+to deny Mr. Huffham's assertion then. "Oh, there's some more of you,
+are there? How many of you boys are there inside here?"
+
+"They've been a-thieving the things!" came in Mrs. Huffham's shrill
+treble from the back of the shop.
+
+"Oh, they have, have they? We'll soon see about that. Unless I'm
+blinder than I used to be, there's young Ellis over there, with whom
+I've promised to have a word of a sort before to-day. You bring a
+light, granny, and look alive; don't keep these young gentlemen
+waiting, not by no manner of means."
+
+Mrs. Huffham retreated to her parlour, and presently re-appeared with
+a lighted lamp in her hand. This, with great deliberation, for her old
+bones were stiff, and rheumatism forbade anything like undue haste,
+she hung upon a nail, in such a position that its not too powerful
+light shed as great an illumination as possible upon the contents of
+her shop. Far too powerful an illumination to suit the boys, for it
+brought into undue prominence the damage wrought by Ellis and his
+friend. They eyed the ruins, and Mrs. Huffham eyed them, and Mr.
+Stephen Huffham eyed them too. The old lady's feelings at the sight
+were for a moment too deep for words, but Mr. Stephen Huffham soon
+found speech.
+
+"Who did this?" he asked; and there was something in the tone of the
+inquiry which grated on his hearers' ears.
+
+Had Dick Ellis and his friend deliberately planned to do as much
+mischief as possible in the shortest possible space of time, they
+could scarcely have succeeded better. Three or four of the bottles
+were broken to pieces, and in their fall they had fallen on a little
+glass case, the chief pride and ornament of Mrs. Huffham's shop, which
+was divided into compartments, in one of which were cigars, in another
+reels of cotton and hanks of thread, and in a third such trifles as
+packets of hair-pins, pots of pomade, note-paper and envelopes, and a
+variety of articles which might be classified under the generic name
+of "fancy goods." The glass in this case was damaged beyond repair;
+the sweets from the broken bottles had got inside, and had become
+mixed with the cigars, and the paper, and the hair-pins, and the
+pomade, and the rest of the varied contents.
+
+Mr. Stephen Huffman not finding himself favoured with an immediate
+reply to his inquiry, repeated it.
+
+"Who did this? Did you do this?" And he gave Charlie Griffin a shake
+which made him feel as though he were being shaken not only upside
+down, but inside out.
+
+"No-o-o!" said Charlie, as loudly as he was able with Mr. Stephen
+Huffman shaking him as a terrier shakes a rat. "I-I-I didn't!
+Le-e-eave me alone!"
+
+"I'll leave you alone fast enough! I'll leave the lot of you alone
+when I've taken all the skin off your bodies! Did you do this?" And
+Mr. Stephen Huffham transferred his attention to Bailey.
+
+"No!" roared Bertie, before Huffman had time to get him fairly in his
+grasp. Mr. Huffman held him at arm's length, and looked him full in
+the face with an intensity of scrutiny which Bertie by no means
+relished.
+
+"I suppose none of you did do it; nobody ever does do these sort of
+things, so far as I can make out. It was accidental; it always is."
+
+His voice had been so far, if not conciliatory, at least not unduly
+elevated. But suddenly he turned upon Ellis with a roar which was not
+unlike the bellow of a bull. "Did you do it?"
+
+Ellis started as though he had received an electric shock.
+
+"No-o!" he gasped. "It was Wheeler!"
+
+"Oh, it was Wheeler, was it?"
+
+"It wasn't me," said Wheeler.
+
+"Oh, it wasn't you? Who was it, then? That's what I want to know; who
+was it, then?" Mr. Huffham put this question in a tone of voice which
+would have been eminently useful had he been addressing some person a
+couple of miles away, but which in his present situation almost made
+the panes of glass rattle in the windows. "Who was it, then?" And he
+caught hold of Ellis and shook him with such velocity to and fro that
+it was difficult for a moment to distinguish what it was that he was
+shaking.
+
+"It--was--Whe-e-eler!" gasped Ellis, struggling with his breath.
+
+"Now, just you listen to me, you boys!" began Mr. Huffham. (They could
+scarcely avoid listening to him, considering that he spoke in what was
+many degrees above a whisper.) "I'll put it this way, so that we can
+have things fair and square, and know what we're a-doing of. There's a
+pound's damage been done here, so perhaps one of you gentlemen will
+let me have a sovereign. I'm not going to ask who did it; I'm not
+going to ask no questions at all: all I says is, perhaps one of you
+young gentlemen will let me have a sovereign." He stretched out his
+hand as though he expected to receive a sovereign then and there; as
+it happened he stretched it out in the direction of Bertie Bailey.
+
+Bertie looked at the horny, dirt-grimed palm, then up in Mr. Huffham's
+face. A dog-fancier would have said that there was some scarcely
+definable resemblance to the bull-dog in the expression of his eyes.
+"You won't get a sovereign out of me," he said.
+
+"Oh, won't I? we'll see!"
+
+"We will see. I'd nothing to do with it; I don't know who did do it.
+You shouldn't leave the place without a light; who's to see in the
+dark?"
+
+"You let me finish what I've got to say, then you say your say out
+afterwards. What I say is this--there's a pound's worth of damage
+done----"
+
+"There isn't a pound's worth of damage done," said Bertie.
+
+Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder. "You let me finish out my say!
+I say there is a pound's worth of damage done; you can settle who it
+was among you afterwards; and what I say is this, either you pays me
+that pound before you leave this shop or I'll give the whole four of
+you such a flogging as you never had in all your days--I'll skin you
+alive!"
+
+"It won't give me my money your flogging them," wailed Mrs. Huffham
+from behind the counter. "It's my money I wants! Here is all them
+bottles broken, and the case smashed--and it cost me two pound ten,
+and everything inside of it's a-ruined. It's my money I wants!"
+
+"It's what I wants too; so which of you young gents is going to hand
+over that there sovereign?"
+
+"Wheeler's got sevenpence," suggested Griffin.
+
+"Sevenpence! what's sevenpence? It's a pound I want! Which of you is
+going to fork up that there pound?"
+
+"There isn't a pound's worth of damage done," said Bertie; "nothing
+like. If you let us go, we'll get five shillings somehow, and bring it
+you in a week."
+
+"In a week--five shillings! you catch me at it! Why, if I was once to
+let you outside that door, you'd put your fingers to your noses, and
+you'd call out, 'There goes old Huffham! yah--h--h!'" And he gave a
+very fair imitation of the greeting which the sight of him was apt to
+call forth from the very youths in front of him.
+
+"If they was the young gentlemen they calls themselves they'd pay up,
+and not try to rob an old woman what's over seventy year."
+
+"Now then, what's it going to be, your money or your life? That's the
+way to put it, because I'll only just let you off with your life, I'll
+tell you. Look sharp; I want my tea! What's it going to be, your
+money, or rather, my old grandmother's money over there, an old
+woman who finds it a pretty tight fit to keep herself out of the
+workhouse----"
+
+"Yes, that she do," interpolated the grandmother in question.
+
+"Or your life?" He looked in turn from one boy to the other, and
+finally his gaze rested on Bailey.
+
+Bertie met his eyes with a sullen stare. "I tell you I'd nothing to do
+with it," he said.
+
+"And I tell you I don't care that who had to do with it," and Mr.
+Huffham snapped his fingers. "You're that there pack of liars I
+wouldn't believe you on your oath before a judge and jury, not that I
+wouldn't!" and his fingers were snapped again. He and Bailey stood for
+a moment looking into each other's face.
+
+"If you hit me for what I didn't do, I'll do something worth hitting
+for."
+
+"Will you?" Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder, and held him as in
+a vice.
+
+"Don't you hit me!"
+
+Apparently Mrs. Huffham was impressed by something in his manner.
+"Don't you hit 'un hard! now don't you!"
+
+"Won't I? I'll hit him so hard, I'll about do for him, that's about as
+hard as I'll hit him." A look came into Mr. Huffham's face which was
+not nice to see. Bailey never flinched; his hard-set jaw and sullen
+eyes made the resemblance to the bulldog more vivid still. "You pay me
+that pound!"
+
+"I wouldn't if I had it!"
+
+In an instant Mr. Huffham had swung him round, and was raining blows
+with his clenched fist upon the boy's back and shoulders. But he had
+reckoned without his host, if he had supposed the punishment would be
+taken quietly. The boy fought like a cat, and struggled and kicked
+with such unlooked-for vigour that Mr. Huffham, driven against the
+counter and not seeing what he was doing, struck out wildly, knocked
+the lamp off its nail with his fist, and in an instant the boy and the
+man were struggling in the darkness on the floor.
+
+Just then a stentorian voice shouted through the glass window of the
+rickety door,--
+
+"Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!"
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter IV
+
+                            A LITTLE DRIVE
+
+
+Those within the shop had been too much interested in their own
+proceedings to be conscious of a dog-cart, which came tearing through
+the darkening shadows at such a pace that startled pedestrians might
+be excused for thinking that it was a case of a horse running away
+with its driver. But such would have been convinced of their error
+when, in passing Mrs. Huffham's, on hearing Mr. Stephen bellowing with
+what seemed to be the full force of a pair of powerful lungs, the
+vehicle was brought to a standstill as suddenly as a regiment of
+soldiers halt at the word of command. The driver spoke to the horse,--
+
+"Steady! stand still, old girl!" The speaker alighted. Approaching
+Mrs. Huffham's, he stood at the glass-windowed door, observing the
+proceedings within; and when Mr. Stephen, in his blind rage, struck
+the lamp from its place and plunged the scene in darkness, the
+unnoticed looker-on turned the handle of the door and entered the
+shop, shouting, in tones which made themselves audible above the
+din,--
+
+"Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!" And standing on the
+threshold, he repeated his assertion, "Bravo! that's the best plucked
+boy I've seen." He drew a box of matches from his pocket, and striking
+one, he held the flickering flame above his head, so that some little
+light was shed upon what was going on within. "What's this little
+argument?" he asked.
+
+Seeing that Mr. Huffman was still holding Bailey firmly in his grasp,
+"Hold hard, big one," he said; "let the little chap get up. You ought
+to have your little arguments outside; this place isn't above half
+large enough to swing a cat in. Granny, bring a light!"
+
+As the match was just on the point of going out he struck another, and
+entered the shop with it flaming in his hand. Mrs. Huffham's nerves
+were too shaken to allow her to pay that instant attention to the
+new-comer's orders which he seemed to demand.
+
+"Look alive, old lady; bring a light! This old band-box is as dark as
+pitch."
+
+Thus urged, the old lady disappeared, presently reappearing with a
+little table-lamp in her trembling hands.
+
+"Put it somewhere out of reach--if anything is out of reach in this
+dog-hole of a place. I shouldn't be surprised if you had a little
+bonfire with the next lamp that's upset."
+
+Mrs. Huffman placed it on a shelf in the extreme corner of the shop,
+from which post of vantage it did not light the scene quite so
+brilliantly as it might have done. Mr. Stephen and the boy, relaxing a
+moment from the extreme vigour of discussion, availed themselves of
+the opportunity to see what sort of person the stranger might chance
+to be.
+
+He was a man of gigantic stature, probably considerably over six feet
+high, but so broad in proportion that he seemed shorter than he
+actually was. A long waterproof, from which the rain was trickling in
+little streams, reached to his feet; the hood was drawn over his head,
+and under its shadow was seen a face which was excellently adapted to
+the enormous frame. A huge black beard streamed over the stranger's
+breast, and a pair of large black eyes looked out from overhanging
+brows. He was the first to break the silence.
+
+"Well, what is this little argument?" Then, without waiting for an
+answer, he continued, addressing Mr. Huffham, "You're rather a large
+size, don't you think, for that sized boy?"
+
+"Who are you? and what do you want? If there's anything you want to
+buy, perhaps you'll buy it, and take yourself outside."
+
+The stranger put his hand up to his beard, and began pulling it.
+
+"There's nothing I want to buy, not just now." He looked at Bailey.
+"What's he laying it on for?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"That's not bad, considering. What were you laying it on for?" This to
+Huffham.
+
+"I've not finished yet, not by no manner of means; I mean to take
+it out of all the lot of 'em. Call themselves gents! Why, if a
+working-man's son was to behave as they does, he'd get five years
+at a reformatory. I've known it done before today."
+
+"I daresay you have; you look like a man who knew a thing or two. What
+were you laying it on for?"
+
+"What for? why, look here!" And Mr. Huffham pointed to the broken
+bottles and the damaged case.
+
+"And I'm a hard-working woman, I am, sir, and I'm seventy-three this
+next July; and it's hard work I find it to pay my rent: and wherever
+I'm to get the money for them there things, goodness knows, I don't.
+It'll be the workhouse, after all!" Thus Mrs. Huffham lifted up her
+voice and wept.
+
+"And they calls themselves gents, and they comes in here, and takes
+advantage of an old woman, and robs her right and left, and thinks
+they're going to get off scot free; not if I know it this time they
+won't." Mr. Stephen Huffham looked as though he meant it, every word.
+
+"Did you do that?" asked the stranger of Bailey.
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"I don't care who did it; they're that there liars I wouldn't believe
+a word of theirs on oath; they did it between them, and that's quite
+enough for me."
+
+"I suppose one of you did do it?" asked the stranger.
+
+Bailey thrust his hands in his pockets, looking up at the stranger
+with the dogged look in his eyes.
+
+"The place was pitch dark; why didn't they have a light in the place?"
+
+"Because there didn't happen to be a light in the place, is that any
+reason why you should go smashing everything you could lay your hands
+on? Why couldn't you wait for a light? Go on with you! I'll take the
+skin off your back!"
+
+"How much?" asked the stranger, paying no attention to Mr. Stephen's
+eloquence.
+
+"There's a heap of mischief done, heap of mischief!" wailed the old
+lady in the rear.
+
+"How am I to tell all the mischief that's been done? Just look at the
+place; a sovereign wouldn't cover it, no, that it wouldn't."
+
+"There isn't five shillings' worth of harm," said Bertie. "If you were
+to get five shillings, you'd make a profit of half a crown."
+
+The stranger laughed, and Mr. Huffham scowled; the look which he cast
+at Bertie was not exactly a look of love, but the boy met it without
+any sign of flinching.
+
+"I'll be even with you yet, my lad!" Mr. Stephen said.
+
+"If I give you a sovereign you will be even," suggested the stranger.
+
+Mr. Stephen's eyes glistened; and his grandmother, clasping her old
+withered palms together, cast a look of rapture towards the ceiling.
+
+"Oh, deary me! deary me!" she said.
+
+"It's a swindle," muttered Bertie.
+
+"Oh, it's a swindle, is it?" snarled Mr. Stephen. "I'd like to swindle
+you, my fighting cock."
+
+"You couldn't do it," retorted Bertie.
+
+The stranger laughed again. Unbuttoning his waterproof, and in doing
+so distributing a shower of water in his immediate neighbourhood, out
+of his trousers pocket he took a heavy purse, out of the purse he took
+a sovereign, and the sovereign he handed to Mr. Stephen Huffham. Mr.
+Stephen's palm closed on the glittering coin with a certain degree of
+hesitation.
+
+"Now you're quits," said the stranger, "you and the boy."
+
+"Quits!" said Bertie, "it's seventeen-and-sixpence in his pocket!"
+
+Mr. Stephen smiled, not quite pleasantly; he might have been moved to
+speech had not the stranger interrupted him.
+
+"You're pretty large, and that's all you are; if this boy were about
+your size, he'd lay it on to you. I should say you were a considerable
+fine sample of a--coward."
+
+Mr. Stephen held his peace. There was something in the stranger's
+manner and appearance which induced him to think that perhaps he had
+better be content with what he had received. After having paused for a
+second or two, seemingly for some sort of reply from Mr. Huffham, the
+stranger addressed the boys.
+
+"Get out!" They went out, rather with the air of beaten curs. The
+stranger followed them. "Get up into the cart; I'm going to take you
+home to my house to tea." They looked at each other, in doubt as to
+whether he was jesting. "Do you hear? Get up into the cart! You, boy,"
+touching Bailey on the shoulder, "you ride alongside me."
+
+Still they hesitated. It occurred to them that they had already broken
+their engagement with the credulous Mr. Shane, broken it in the most
+satisfactory manner, in each separate particular. They were not only
+wet and muddy, looking somewhat as though they had recently been
+picked out of the gutter, but that half-hour within which they had
+pledged themselves to return had long since gone. But if they
+hesitated, there was no trace of hesitation about the stranger.
+
+"Now then, do you think I want to wait here all night? Tumble up, you
+boy." And fairly lifting Wheeler off his legs, he bore him bodily
+through the air, and planted him at the back of the trap. And not
+Wheeler only, but Griffin and Ellis too. Before those young gentlemen
+had quite realized their position, or the proposal he had made to
+them, they found themselves clinging to each other to prevent
+themselves tumbling out of the back of what was not a very large
+dog-cart. "You're none of you big ones! Catch hold of each other's
+hair or something, and don't fall out; I can't stop to pick up boys.
+Now then, bantam, up you go."
+
+And Bertie, handled in the same undignified fashion, found himself on
+the front seat beside the driver. The stranger, big though he was,
+apparently allowed his size to interfere in no degree with his
+agility. In a twinkling he was seated in his place by Bertie.
+
+"Steady!" he cried. "Look out, you boys!" He caught the reins in his
+hands; the mare knew her master's touch, and in an instant, even
+before the boys had altogether yet quite realized their situation,
+they were dashing through the darkening night.
+
+It was about as cheerless an evening as one could very well select for
+a drive in an open vehicle. The stranger, enveloped in his waterproof,
+his hood in some degree sheltering his face, a waterproof rug drawn
+high above his knees, was more comfortable than the boys. Bailey,
+indeed, had a seat to sit upon and a share of the rug, but his friends
+had neither seat nor shelter.
+
+Perhaps, on the whole, they would have been better off had they been
+walking. The imperfect light and the hasty start rendered it difficult
+for them to have a clear view of their position. The mare--which, had
+it been lighter and they versed in horseflesh, they would have been
+able to recognise as a very tolerable specimen of an American
+trotter--made the pace so hot that they had to cling, if not to each
+other's hair, at least to whatever portion of each other's person they
+could manage to get hold of. Even then it was only by means of a
+series of gymnastic feats that they were able to keep their footing
+and save themselves from being pitched out on to the road.
+
+They had not gone far when Griffin had a disaster.
+
+"I've lost my hat!" he cried. Wind and pace and nervousness combined
+had loosened his headgear, and without staying to bid farewell to his
+head, it disappeared into the night.
+
+The stranger gave utterance to a loud yet musical laugh.
+
+"Never mind your hat! Can't stop for hats! The fresh air will do you
+good, cool your head, my boy!" But this was a point of view which did
+not occur to Griffin; he was rather disposed to wonder what Mr. Shane
+and Mrs. Fletcher would say.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't catch hold of my throat; you'll strangle me,"
+said Wheeler, as the vehicle dashed round a sharp turn in the road,
+and the hatless Griffin made a frantic clutch at his friend to save
+himself from following his hat.
+
+"I--can't--help--it," gasped his friend in reply. "I wish he wouldn't
+go so fast. Oh--h!"
+
+The stranger laughed again.
+
+"Don't tumble out! we can't stop to pick up boys! Hullo! what are you
+up to there?"
+
+The trio in the rear were apparently engaged in a fight for life. They
+were uttering choking ejaculations, and struggling with each other in
+their desperate efforts to preserve their perpendicular. In the course
+of their struggle they lurched against the stranger with such
+unexpected violence that had he not with marvellous rapidity twisted
+round in his seat and caught them with his arm, they would in all
+probability have continued their journey on the road. At the same
+instant, with his disengaged hand he brought the horse, who seemed to
+obey the directions of its master's hand with mechanical accuracy, to
+a sudden halt.
+
+"Now, then, are you all right?"
+
+They were very far from being all right, but were not at that moment
+possessed of breath to tell him so. Had they not lost the power of
+speech they would have joined in a unanimous appeal to him to set them
+down, and let them go anywhere, and do anything, rather than allow
+them to continue any longer at the mercy of his too rapid steed. But
+the stranger seemed to take their involuntary silence for
+acquiescence. Once more they were dashing through the night, and again
+they were hanging on for their bare lives.
+
+"Like driving, youngster?" The question was addressed to Bailey. "Like
+horses? Like a beast that can go? Mary Anne can give a lead to a flash
+of lightning and catch it in two T's."
+
+"Mary Anne" was apparently the steed. At that moment the trio in the
+rear would have believed anything of Mary Anne's powers of speed, but
+Bailey held his peace. The stranger went on.
+
+"I like a drive on a night like this. I like dashing through the wind
+and the darkness and the rain. I like a thing to fire my blood, and
+that's the reason why I like you. That's the reason why I've asked you
+home to tea. What's your name?"
+
+"Bailey, sir."
+
+"I knew a man named Bailey down in Kentucky who was hanged because he
+was too fond of horses--other people's, not his own. Any relation of
+yours?" Bertie disclaimed the soft impeachment.
+
+"I don't think so, sir."
+
+"There's no knowing. Lots of people are hanged without their
+own mothers knowing anything about it, let alone their fathers,
+especially out Kentucky way. A cousin of mine was hanged in Golden
+City, and I shouldn't have known anything about it to this day if
+I hadn't come along and seen his body swinging on a tree. As nice
+a fellow as man need know, six-feet-one-and-three-quarters in his
+stockings--three-quarters of an inch shorter than me. They explained
+to me that they'd hanged him by mistake, which was some consolation
+to me, anyway, though what he thought of it is more than I can say. I
+cut him down, dug a hole seven foot deep, and laid him there to
+sleep; and there he sleeps as sound as though he'd handed in his
+checks upon a feather bed."
+
+Bailey looked up at the speaker. He was not quite sure if he was in
+earnest, and was anything but sure that the little narrative which he
+rolled so glibly off his tongue might not be the instant coinage of
+his brain. But something in the speaker's voice and manner attracted
+him even more than his words; something he would have found it
+difficult to describe.
+
+"Is that true?" he asked.
+
+The stranger looked down at him and laughed.
+
+"Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't." He laughed again. "Wet,
+youngster?"
+
+"I should rather think I am," was Bertie's grim response. All the
+stranger did was to laugh again. Bailey ventured on an inquiry. "Do
+you live far from here?" He was conscious of a certain degree of
+interest as to whether the stranger was driving them to Kentucky; he,
+too, had Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher in his mind's eye. "Shane'll get
+sacked for this, as sure as fate," was his mental observation. He was
+aware that at Mecklemburg House the sins of the pupils not seldom fell
+upon the heads of the assistant-masters.
+
+"Pain's Hill," was the answer to his question. "Ever heard of
+Washington Villa?" Bertie could not say he had.
+
+"I am George Washington Bankes, the proprietor thereof. Yes, and it
+isn't so long ago that if any one had said to me that I should settle
+down as a country gentleman, I should have said, 'There have been
+liars since Ananias, but none quite as big as you.'"
+
+Bailey eyed him from a corner of his eye. His father was a medical
+man, with no inconsiderable country practice. He had seen something of
+country gentlemen, but it occurred to him that a country gentleman in
+any way resembling his new acquaintance he had not yet chanced to see.
+
+"You at the school there?"
+
+Taking it for granted that he referred to Mecklemburg House, Bertie
+confessed that he was.
+
+"Why don't you run away? I would."
+
+Bertie started; he had read of boys running away from school in
+stories of the penny dreadful type, but he had not yet heard of
+country gentlemen suggesting that course of action as a reasonable one
+for the rising generation to pursue.
+
+"Every boy worth his salt ought to run away. I did, and I've never
+done a more sensible thing to this day." In that case one could not
+but wonder for how many sensible things Mr. George Washington Bankes
+had been remarkable in the course of his career. "I've been from China
+to Peru, from the North Pole to the South. I've been round the world
+all sorts of ways; and the chances are that if I hadn't run away from
+school I should never have travelled twenty miles from my old mother's
+door. Why don't you run away?"
+
+Bertie wriggled in his seat and gasped.
+
+"I--I don't know," he said.
+
+"Ah, I'll talk to you about that when I get you home. You're about the
+best plucked lad I've seen, or you wouldn't have stood up in the way
+you did to that great hulking lubber there; and rather than see a lad
+of parts wasting his time at school--but you wait a bit. I'll open
+your eyes, my lad. I'll give you some idea of what a man's life ought
+to be! Books never did me any good, and never will. I say, throw
+books, like physic, to the dogs--a life of adventure's the life for
+me!"
+
+Bertie listened open-eyed and open-mouthed; he began to think he was
+in a waking dream. There was a wildness about his new acquaintance,
+and about his mode of speech, which filled him with a sort of dull,
+startled wonder. There was in the boy, deep-rooted somewhere, that
+half-unconscious longing for things adventurous which the British
+youngster always has. Mr. Bankes struck a chord which filled the boy
+almost with a sense of pain.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!" Mr. Bankes repeated his
+confession of faith, laughing as he did so; and the words, and the
+voice, and the manner, and the laugh, all mixed together, made the
+boy, wet as he was, glow with a sudden warmth. "A life of adventure's
+the life for me!"
+
+The drive was nearly ended, and during the rest of it Mr. Bankes kept
+silence. Wheeler's hat had followed Griffin's, but he had not
+mentioned it; partly because, as he thought, he would receive no
+sympathy and not much attention, and partly because, in his anxiety to
+keep his footing in the trap, and get out of it with his bones whole,
+it would have been a matter of comparative indifference to him if the
+rest of his clothing had followed his hat. But he, too, mistily
+wondered what Mr. Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would say.
+
+Fortunately for his peace of mind, and the peace of mind of his two
+friends, the good steed, Mary Anne, brought them safely to the doors
+of Washington Villa. Fond of driving as they were, as a rule, they
+were conscious of a distinct sense of relief when that drive was at an
+end.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter V
+
+                    AN EVENING AT WASHINGTON VILLA
+
+
+Washington Villa appeared, from what one could see in the darkness, to
+be a fairly sized house, standing in its own grounds. Considerable
+stabling was built apart from, but close to the house, and as the trap
+dashed along the little carriage-drive numerous loud-voiced dogs
+announced the fact of an arrival to whomever it might concern. The
+instant the vehicle stopped, the hall door was opened, and a little
+wizened, shrunken man came down the steps. Mr. Bankes threw him the
+reins.
+
+"Jump out, you boys, and tumble into the house. Welcome to Washington
+Villa." Suiting the action to the word, and before his young friends
+had clearly realized the fact of their having arrived at their
+destination, he had risen from his seat, sprung to the ground, and was
+standing on the threshold of the door. The boys were not long in
+following suit.
+
+"Come this way!" Striding on in front of them, through a hall of no
+inconsiderable dimensions, he led them into a room in which a bright
+fire was blazing, and which was warm with light. A pretty servant girl
+made a simultaneous entrance through a door on the other side of the
+room. "Catch hold." Tearing rather than taking off his waterproof and
+hood, he flung them to the maid. "Where are my slippers?" The maid
+produced a pair from the fender, where they had been placed to warm;
+and Mr. Bankes thrust his feet into them, flinging his boots off on to
+the floor. "Tea for five, and a good tea, too, and in about less time
+than it would take me to shoot a snake."
+
+The maid disappeared with a laugh on her face; she was apparently used
+to Mr. Bankes, and to Mr. Bankes' mode of speech. Then, after having
+attended to his own comfort, the host turned his attention to his
+guests.
+
+"Well, you're a nice lot of half-drowned puppies. By right, I ought to
+hang you up in front of the kitchen fire to dry."
+
+His guests shuffled about upon their feet with not quite a graceful
+air. It was true that they looked in about as miserable a condition as
+they very well could do; but considering the circumstances under which
+they had travelled, it was scarcely to be wondered at. Had Mr. Bankes
+travelled in their place, he might have looked like a half-drowned
+puppy too.
+
+"But a wetting will do you good, and as for mud, why, I don't care for
+mud. I've swallowed too much of it in my time to stick at a trifle.
+When I was a boy, I was the dirtiest little blackguard ever seen. Now,
+then, is that tea ready? Come along."
+
+And off he strode into the hall, the boys following sheepishly in the
+rear. Wheeler poked Bailey in the side with his elbow, and Bailey
+poked Griffin, and they each of them poked the other, and they
+grinned. Their feelings were altogether too much for speech. What Mr.
+Shane and Mrs. Fletcher would think and say--but that was a matter on
+which they would not improbably be able to speak more fully later on.
+A more unguestlike-looking set of guests could hardly be conceived.
+Not only were their boots concealed beneath thick layers of mud, but
+they were spattered with mud from head to foot; their hands and faces
+were filthy, and their hair was in a state of untidiness better
+imagined than described. They had their everyday clothes on; their
+trousers were in general too short in the leg, and their coats too
+short in the sleeves; while Griffin was radiant with a mighty patch in
+the seat of his breeches of a totally different material to the
+original cloth. It was fortunate that Mr. Bankes did not stick at
+trifles, or he would never have allowed his newly-discovered guests to
+enter his well-kept residence.
+
+They followed their host into a room on the other side of the hall,
+and the sight they saw almost took their breath away. A table laden
+with more delicacies than they remembered to have seen crowded
+together for a considerable space of time was, especially after the
+fare to which they were accustomed at Mecklemburg House, a spectacle
+calculated at any time to fill them with a satisfaction almost
+amounting to awe. But to come out of such a night to such a prospect!
+To come to feast from worse than famine! The revulsion of feeling was
+considerable, and the aspect of the guests became even more sheepish
+than before.
+
+"Sit down, and pitch in. If you're as hungry as I am, you'll eat the
+table, legs and all."
+
+The boys needed no second invitation. In a very short space of
+time host and guests alike were doing prodigies of execution. The
+nimble-handed servant-maid found it as much as she could do to supply
+their wants. On the details of the feast we need not dwell. It partook
+of the nature of a joke to call that elaborate meal tea. By the time
+it was finished the four young gentlemen had not only ceased to think
+of what Mrs. Fletcher and Mr. Shane might say, but they had altogether
+forgotten the existence of Mecklemburg House Collegiate School; and
+even Charlie Griffin was prepared to declare that he had thoroughly
+enjoyed that nightmare journey from Mrs. Huffham's to the present
+abode of bliss. The meal had been no less to the satisfaction of the
+host than of his guests.
+
+"Done?" They signified by their eloquent looks as much as by their
+speech that they emphatically had. "Then let's go back to the other
+room." And they went.
+
+A peculiarity of this other room was that all the chairs in it
+were arm-chairs; and in four of not the least comfortable of these
+arm-chairs the boys found themselves seated at their ease. Over the
+fire-place, arranged in the fashion of a trophy, were a large number
+of venerable-looking pipes. Taking one of these down, Mr. Bankes
+proceeded to fill it from a tobacco jar which stood in a corner of the
+mantelshelf. Then he lit it, and, planting himself in the centre of
+the hearthrug, right in front of the fire, he thrust his hands into
+his pockets and looked down upon his guests, a huge, black-bearded
+giant, puffing at his pipe.
+
+"Had a good feed?"
+
+They signified that they had.
+
+"Do you know what I brought you here for?"
+
+The food and the warmth combined had brought them into a state of
+exceeding peace, and they were inclined to sleep. Why he had brought
+them there they neither knew nor cared; they were beyond such
+trifling. They had had a good meal, the first for many days, and it
+behoved them to be thankful.
+
+"I'll tell you. I brought you here because I want to get you, the
+whole lot of you, to run away."
+
+His listeners opened their eyes and ears. Bailey had made some
+acquaintance with his host's character before, but his three friends
+stared.
+
+"Every boy worth his salt runs away from school. I did, and it was the
+most sensible thing I ever did in my life."
+
+When Mr. Bankes thus repeated the assertion which he had made to
+Bailey in the trap, his hearers banished sleep and began to wonder.
+
+"What's the use of school? What do you do there? What do you do at
+that tumble-down old red-brick house on the Cobham road? Why, you
+waste your time."
+
+This assertion, if, to a certain extent, true, as it applied to the
+establishment in question, was a random shot as applied to schools in
+general.
+
+"Shall I tell you what I learnt at school? I learnt to hate it, and I
+haven't forgotten that lesson to this day; no, and I shan't till I'm
+packed away with a lot of dirt on top of me. My father," Mr. Bankes
+took his pipe out of his mouth, and pointed his remarks with it as he
+went on, "died of a broken heart, and so should I have done if I
+hadn't cut it short and run away."
+
+No man ever looked less like dying of a broken heart than Mr. Bankes
+did then.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!"
+
+They were the words which had thrilled through Bertie when he had
+heard them in the trap; they thrilled him again as he heard them now,
+and they thrilled his companions too. They stared up at Mr. Bankes as
+though he held them with a spell; nor would that gentleman have made a
+bad study for a wizard.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me! Under foreign skies in distant
+lands, away from the twopenny-halfpenny twaddle of spelling-books and
+sums, seeking fortune and finding it, a man in the midst of men, not a
+finicking idiot among a pack of babies. Why don't you run away? You
+see me? I was at school at Nottingham; I was just turned thirteen: I
+ran away with ninepence-halfpenny in my pocket. I got to London
+somehow; and from London I got abroad, somehow too; and abroad I've
+picked up fortune after fortune, thrown them all away, and picked them
+up again. Now I've had about enough of it, I've made another little
+pile, and this little pile I think I'll keep, at least just yet
+awhile. But what a life it's been! What larks I've had, what days and
+nights, what months and years! Why, when I think of all I've done, and
+of what I might have done, rotted away my life, if it hadn't been for
+that little bolt from school,--why, when I think of that, I never see
+a boy but I long to take him by the scruff of the neck, and sing out,
+'Youngster, why don't you do as I have done, cut away from school, and
+run?'"
+
+Mr. Bankes flung back his head and laughed. But whether he was
+laughing at them, or at his own words, or at his recollections of the
+past, was more than they could say. They looked at each other,
+conscious that their host was not the least part of the afternoon's
+entertainment, and somewhat at a loss as to whether he was drawing the
+long bow, taking them to be younger and more verdant than they were,
+or whether he was seriously advancing an educational system of his
+own.
+
+He startled them by putting a question point-blank to Bailey, one
+which he had put before.
+
+"Why don't you run away?"
+
+"I--I don't know!" stammered Bertie. Then, frankly, as the idea
+occurred to him, "Because I never thought of it."
+
+Mr. Bankes laughed. His constant tendency to laughter, with or without
+apparent reason, seemed to be his not least remarkable characteristic.
+
+"Now you have thought of it, why don't you run away?"
+
+Bailey turned the matter over in his mind.
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+His friends looked at each other, thinking the conversation just a
+trifle queer.
+
+"Why ever should he run away?" asked Griffin.
+
+"And wherever would he run to?" added Wheeler.
+
+Dick Ellis said nothing, but possibly he thought the more. Mr. Bankes
+directed his reply directly at Bailey.
+
+"I'll tell you why you ought to run away; because that's the shortest
+cut into a world into which you will never get by any other road. I'll
+tell you where you ought to run to, out of this little fleabite of an
+island, into the lands of golden dreams and golden possibilities, my
+lad; where men at night lay themselves down poor, and in the morning
+rise up rich."
+
+Mr. Bankes, warming with his theme, began to gesticulate and stamp
+about the room, the boys following him with all their eyes.
+
+"I hate your huggermuggering existence; why should a lad of parts
+huggermugger all his life away? When I saw you stand up to that great
+lout, I said to myself, 'That lad has grit; he's just the very spit of
+what I was when I was just his age; he's too good to be left to muddle
+in this old worn-out country, to waste his time with books and sums
+and trash.' I said to myself, 'I'll lend him a helping hand,' and so I
+will. I'll show you the road, if I do nothing else; and if you don't
+choose to take it, it's yourself's to blame, not me.
+
+"When I was out in Colorado, at Denver City, there was a boy came
+along, just about your age; he came along from away down East. He was
+English; he'd got himself stowed away, and he'd made his way to the
+promised land. He took a spade one day, and he marked out a claim, and
+that boy he worked it, he did, and it turned up trumps; there wasn't
+any dirt to dig, because pretty nearly all that his spade turned up
+was virgin silver. He sold that claim for 10,000 dollars, money down,
+and he went on and prospered. That boy is now a man; he owns, I
+daresay, half a dozen silver mines, and he's so rich,--ah, he's so
+rich he doesn't know how rich he is. Now why shouldn't you have been
+that boy?"
+
+Mr. Bankes paused for a reply, but his listeners furnished none.
+Griffin was on the point of suggesting that Bailey was not that boy
+because he wasn't; but he refrained, thinking that perhaps that was
+not quite the sort of answer that was wanted.
+
+"I knew another boy when I was going up from the coast to Kimberley,
+Griqualand West. Do you boys know where that is?"
+
+This sudden plunge into geographical examination took his guests
+aback; they did not know where Griqualand West was; perhaps they had
+been equally misty as to the whereabouts of Denver City, Colorado.
+
+"It's in South Africa. Ah, that's the way to learn geography, to
+travel about and see the places,--pitch your books into the fire!"
+
+"And is the other place in South Africa?" queried Griffin.
+
+Mr. Bankes gave him a look the like of which he had never received
+from Mr. Fletcher; a look of thunder, as though he would have liked to
+pick him up, then and there, and pitch him after the books into the
+fire.
+
+"Denver City, Colorado, in South Africa?" he roared. "Why, you
+leather-headed noodle, where were you at school? If I were the man who
+taught you, I'd flog you from here to Dublin with a cat-o'-nine-tails,
+rather than I'd let you expose your ignorance like that!"
+
+The sudden advent among them of an explosive bomb might have created a
+little more astonishment than this speech, but not much. Griffin felt
+that he had better abstain from questioning, and let his host run on.
+
+"Denver City is in the United States of America, in the land of the
+stars and bars, as every idiot knows! As I was saying, before that
+young gentleman wrote himself down donkey--and he looks it, every inch
+of him!--as I was saying, when I was going up from the coast to
+Kimberley, there was a boy who used to do odd jobs for me; he hadn't
+sixpenny-worth of clothes upon his back! I lost sight of him; five
+years afterwards I met him again. It was like a tale out of the
+_Arabian Nights_, I tell you! That ragged boy that was, when I saw him
+again five years afterwards, he reckoned to cover what any half-dozen
+men might have put down, and double it afterwards. And look at the
+life he'd led! It's no good my talking about it here, you'd hardly
+believe me if I told you half the things he'd done. Don't you believe
+any of your adventure books. There aren't half the adventures crowded
+into any book which that lad had seen. Yes, a life of adventure was
+the life for him, and he'd had it, too!"
+
+Mr. Bankes returned to his post of vantage in front of the fire. In
+his excitement he had smoked his pipe to premature ashes; he refilled
+and lighted it. Then he addressed himself to Bailey, marking time as
+he went on by beating the palm of his right hand against his left.
+
+"I say, don't let a day be wasted--days lost are not recovered; now's
+your time, and now's your opportunity; don't let the week's end find
+you huggermuggering in that old school. Go out into the world! learn
+to be a man! Try your courage! Put your powers to the test! Search for
+the golden land! Let a life of adventure be the life for you! As for
+you," Mr. Bankes turned with ominous suddenness towards Charlie
+Griffin, "I don't say that to you; what I say to you is this: write
+home to your mother for a good supply of flannel petticoats, and wrap
+yourself up warm, and let your hair grow long, and take care of your
+complexion. You're a beauty boy, one of the sort who didn't ought to
+be trusted out after dark alone, and who's sure to have a fit if he
+sees the moon!"
+
+It is a question if this sudden change of subject made Griffin or his
+friends the more uncomfortable. Thinking that Mr. Bankes intended a
+joke, and that it would be ungrateful not to laugh, Ellis attempted a
+snigger; but a sudden gleam from his host's eyes in his direction
+brought his mirth to an untimely ending.
+
+"What are you laughing at?" asked Mr. Bankes. Ellis kept silence,
+being most unwilling to confess that he did not know. Mr. Bankes
+addressed himself again to Bailey.
+
+"It is you I am advising to do as I did, to try a fall with the world
+and to back yourself to win, not such things as those."
+
+Under this heading he included Bertie's three friends, with an
+eloquent wave of his hand in their direction.
+
+"It wants a boy to make a man, not a farthing sugar stick! You'll have
+cause to bless this evening all your life, and to bless me, too, if
+you take the tip I've given you. Don't you listen to those who talk to
+you about the hardships you will meet. What's life without hardships,
+I should like to know; it's hardships make the man! I'm not advising
+you to wrap yourself up in cotton-wool; leave cotton-wool to
+mutton-headed dummies;" this with a significant glance in the
+direction of Bailey's friends. "Rather I tell you this, you back
+yourself to fight, and fight it out, and fight to win, and win you
+will! Run away to-night, to-morrow, I don't care when, so long as
+it's within the week. There's nothing like striking the iron while
+it's hot, and set the clock a-going which will never stop until it
+strikes the hour of victory won and fortune made! A life of
+adventure's the life for me, and it's the life for you, and the sooner
+you begin it the longer it will last and the sweeter it will be."
+
+There was something in Mr. Bankes' tone and manner, when he chose to
+put it there, which, in the eyes of his present audience, at any rate,
+had all the effect of natural eloquence. His excitement excited them,
+and almost he persuaded them to believe in the reality of his golden
+dreams. Bailey, indeed, sat silent, spellbound. Mr. Bankes, by no
+means a bad judge of character, had not mistaken the metal of which
+the boy was made, and every stroke he struck, struck home. As was not
+unnatural, Mr. Bankes' eloquence had a very much more mixed effect on
+Bailey's friends. Their host gave a sudden turn to their thoughts by
+taking out his watch.
+
+"Eleven o'clock! whew-w-w!" This was a whistle. "They'll think you've
+run away already! Ha! ha! ha! I'm not going to have you boys sleep
+here, so the sooner you go the better. Now then, out you go!"
+
+His guests sprang to their feet as he made a movement as though he
+would turn them out with as much precipitation as he had lifted them
+into the trap. And, indeed, the manner of their departure was not much
+more ceremonious. Before they quite knew what was happening, he had
+hustled them into the hall; the hall-door was open; they were the
+other side of it, and Mr. Bankes, standing on the doorstep, was
+ordering them off his premises.
+
+"Now then, clear out of this! The dogs will be loose in half a second;
+you'd better make tracks before they take it into their heads to try
+their teeth upon your legs."
+
+The door was shut, and they were left standing in the night,
+endeavouring to realize whether their adventure of the night had been
+actual fact, or whether they had only dreamed it.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter VI
+
+                              AFTERWARDS
+
+
+But Wheeler's first observation brought them back to _terra firma_
+with a plunge.
+
+"It's my belief that fellow's a howling madman."
+
+They cast a look over their shoulder to see if the fellow thus
+referred to was within hearing of this courteous speech, and then,
+with one accord, they made for the entrance to Washington Villa, not
+pausing till they stood clear of its precincts on the road outside.
+
+Then Wheeler made another observation.
+
+"This is a jolly lark!"
+
+Ellis and Griffin laughed, but Bailey held his peace. A thought struck
+Griffin.
+
+"I say, I wonder what old Mother Fletcher'll say? She'll send herself
+into fits! Fancy its being eleven o'clock! Did you ever hear of such a
+set-out in all your lives? And I've no more idea of where we are than
+the man in the moon."
+
+"I know," said Bailey. He began to trudge on a few feet in front of
+them.
+
+It still rained--a steady, soaking drizzle--and a haze which hung
+about the air made the night darker than it need have done. Griffin
+and Wheeler, minus caps, were wholly at the mercy of the weather.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised," muttered Griffin, "if I didn't catch a
+death of cold after this."
+
+And, indeed, such was a quite possible consummation of the evening's
+pleasure. The boys trudged on, following Bailey's lead. But Wheeler's
+feelings could only find relief by venting themselves in speech.
+
+"Did you ever hear anything like that chap? I never did, never! Fancy
+his going on with all that stuff about running away. I should like to
+catch myself at it,--running away! He's about the biggest liar ever I
+heard!"
+
+"And didn't he snap me up!" said Griffin. "Did you ever see anything
+like it? How was I to know where the beastly place was? I don't
+believe there is such a place."
+
+"He's cracked!" decided Ellis. Then, despite the rain, the young
+gentleman began snapping his fingers and cutting capers in the middle
+of the muddy road. "He's cracked! cracked! Oh lor', I never had such a
+spree in all my life!"
+
+Then the three young gentlemen put their hands to their sides and
+roared with laughter, stamping about the road to save themselves from
+choking. But Bailey trudged steadily on in front.
+
+"And didn't he give us a blow-out!"
+
+A shout of laughter. "Ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"And didn't he tell some busters!"
+
+Another chorus, as before.
+
+"I wonder if he ever did run away himself, as he said he did?" This
+remark came from Ellis, and his friends checked their laughter to
+consider it. They then for the first time discovered that Bailey was
+leaving them in the rear.
+
+"You're a nice sort of fellow," shouted Ellis after him. "Let's catch
+him up! What's his little game, I wonder? Let's catch him up!"
+
+They scampered after him along the road, soon catching him, for
+Bertie, who was not hurrying himself, was only a few yards in advance.
+Ellis slipped his arm through his.
+
+"I say, Bailey, do you think he ever ran away from school himself?"
+
+"What's it got to do with me?" was Bertie's reply.
+
+"Whatever made him go on at you like that? He must have taken you for
+a ninny to think you were going to swallow all he said! Fancy you
+running away! I think I see you at it! Running away to Huffham's and
+back is about your style. Why didn't you ask him for a tip? He seemed
+to be so uncommon fond of you that if I'd been you I'd have asked for
+one. You might have said if he made it large enough you'd run away;
+and so you might have done--to old Mother Huffham's and back." And
+Ellis nudged him in the side and laughed. But Bailey held his peace.
+
+Wheeler gave the conversation a different turn.
+
+"How are you fellows going to get in?" He referred to their effecting
+an entrance into Mecklemburg House.
+
+"Knock at the door, of course, and pull the bell, and dance a
+break-down on the steps, and make a shindy generally, so as to let
+'em know we've come." These suggestions came from Griffin. Wheeler
+took up the parable.
+
+"And tell old Mother Fletcher to let us have something hot for supper,
+and to look alive and get it, and make it tripe and onions, with a
+glass of stout to follow. I just fancy what she'd say."
+
+"And tell her," continued Griffin, "that we've been paying a visit to
+a nice, kind gentleman, who happens to be raving mad."
+
+"And she'd be pleased to hear that he advised us all to run away, and
+waste no time about it. Where did he advise us to go to? The land of
+golden dreams? Oh, my crikey, don't I see her face!"
+
+Bailey made a remark of a practical kind.
+
+"We can get in fast enough, there are always plenty of windows open."
+It is not impossible that the young gentleman had made an entrance
+into Mecklemburg House by some such way before.
+
+"It's easy enough to get in," said Ellis, "but what are we to say in
+the morning? It'll take about a week to dry my things, and about a
+month to get the mud off."
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if old Shane got sacked," chuckled Wheeler.
+
+"It will be jolly hard lines if he does," said Ellis.
+
+"Oh, what's the odds? he shouldn't have let us go!" Which remark of
+Wheeler's was pretty good, considering the circumstances under which
+Mr. Shane's permission had been obtained.
+
+Just then Bailey stopped, and began to peer about him in the night.
+
+"Have you lost your way?" asked Ellis. "That'll be the best joke of
+all if you have. Fancy camping out a night like this! We shan't quite
+be drowned by the morning, but just about almost."
+
+"I'm going to cut across this field," said Bailey. "It's ever so far
+round by the road, but we shall get there in less than no time if we
+go this way."
+
+The suggestion tickled Ellis.
+
+"Fancy cutting across fields on a night like this! Oh, my gracious!
+what will old Mother Fletcher say?"
+
+Bailey climbed over a gate, and the others clambered after him. It
+might be the shortest cut, but it was emphatically the dirtiest.
+
+"Why, if they haven't been ploughing it!" cried Griffin, before they
+had taken half a dozen steps.
+
+Apparently they had, and very recently too. The furrows were wide and
+deep, the soil seemed to be a stiffish clay; walking was exercise of
+the most hazardous kind. There was an exclamation from some one; but
+as it appeared that Griffin had only fallen forward on to his nose,
+his friends were too much occupied with their own proceedings to pay
+much heed.
+
+"I have lost my shoe!" declared Wheeler, immediately after. "Oh, I'm
+stuck in the mud; I believe I'm planted in this beastly field."
+
+"Never mind your shoe, since you've lost your hat already," said
+Ellis, with ready sympathy. "You might as well leave all the rest of
+your things behind you, for all the use they'll be after this little
+spree is over."
+
+"I don't know what Bailey calls a short cut," grumbled Griffin. "At
+the rate I'm going it'll take me about a couple of hours to do a
+hundred yards."
+
+"We shall be home with the milk," said Ellis.
+
+"I've lost my other shoe!" cried Wheeler.
+
+"No, have you really, though?"
+
+"I believe I have, but I don't know whether I have or whether I
+haven't; all I know is, I've got about a hundred pounds of mud
+sticking to my feet. I wish Bailey was at Jericho with his short
+cuts!"
+
+"This is nicer than that old lunatic," sang out Dick Ellis. "Don't I
+wish old Mother Fletcher could see us now."
+
+"I don't know what you call nice," said Griffin. "You'd call it nice
+if you had your eyes and nose and mouth bunged up. I'm down again!"
+
+"You needn't pull me with you," remonstrated Ellis.
+
+But Griffin did. Feeling that he was going, he made a frantic clutch
+at Ellis, who was just in front of him, and the two friends embraced
+each other on the treacherous ground. Ellis' tone underwent a sudden
+change.
+
+"I'll pay you out for this!"
+
+"I couldn't help it," protested Griffin.
+
+"Couldn't help it! What do you mean, you couldn't help it? Do you mean
+to say you couldn't help catching hold of me, and dragging me down
+into this beastly ditch?"
+
+"It isn't a ditch; it's a furrow."
+
+"I don't know what you call a furrow. I know I'm sopping wet, and
+where my hat's gone to I don't know."
+
+"What's it matter about your hat? I've lost mine ever so long ago! I
+wish I'd stopped at home, and never bothered old Shane to let me out.
+I know whoever else calls this a spree, I don't; spree indeed!"
+
+When they had regained their feet, and were cool enough to look about
+them, they found that the others were out of sight, and apparently out
+of hearing too.
+
+"Blessed if this isn't a go! If they haven't been and gone and left
+us. Hollo!" Ellis put his hand to his mouth, that his voice might
+carry further; but no answer came. "Ba-a-ailey! Ba-a-ailey!" But from
+Bailey came no sign. "This is a pretty state of things! wherever have
+they gone? If this is a game they think they're having, it's the
+meanest thing of which I ever heard, and I'll be even with them, mark
+my words. Which way did they go?"
+
+"How should I know? I don't even know which way we came. How's a
+fellow to know anything when he can't see his hand before his face in
+a place like this? It's my belief it's one of Bailey's little games."
+
+"Ba-a-ailey!" Ellis gave another view-halloo. In vain, only silence
+answered. "Well, this is a go! If it hadn't been for you I shouldn't
+have been in this hole."
+
+"I wish I'd never bothered old Shane to let me out!"
+
+"Bother old Shane, and bother you too! I don't know where I am any
+more than Adam."
+
+"I'm sure I don't."
+
+"It's no good standing here like a couple of moon-struck donkeys. I
+sink in the mud every time I put my foot to the ground; we shall be
+over head and heels by the time the morning comes. I'm going straight
+ahead; it must bring us somewhere, and it seems to me it don't much
+matter where."
+
+Minus his hat, not improved in person by his contact with the ground,
+nor in temper by the desertion of his friends, Dick Ellis renewed his
+journeying. Griffin found some difficulty in keeping up with him. How
+many times they lost their footing during the next few minutes it
+would be bootless to recount. Over mud, through mire, uphill,
+downhill, they staggered wildly.
+
+"I wonder how large this field is," observed Ellis, after about ten
+minutes of this sort of work. "It seems to me we've gone about six
+miles."
+
+"It seems to me we've gone sixty," groaned his friend.
+
+"Talk about short cuts! Fancy bringing a fellow into the middle of a
+ploughed field on a pitch-dark, rainy night, and leaving him to find
+his way alone! I say, Ellis, supposing we lose our way?"
+
+"Supposing we lose our way!" shouted Dick. "I guess we've lost it!
+What an ass you are! What do you think we're doing here, if we haven't
+lost our way? Do you think I'd stop in a place like this if I knew a
+way of getting out of it?" Just then he emphasized his remarks by
+sitting down in the mud, and remaining seated where he was. "I can't
+get up; I believe I'm stuck, and here I'll stick; and in the morning
+they'll find me dead: you mark my words, and see if they don't."
+
+The terror of the situation moved Griffin almost to tears.
+
+"Let's shout," he said.
+
+"What's the good of shouting?"
+
+"I don't know," said Griffin.
+
+"Then what an ass you are!" With difficulty Ellis staggered to his
+feet. "It's my belief I've got about an acre of land fastened to the
+seat of my breeches. I should like to know how I'm to walk and carry
+that about."
+
+They staggered on. A few yards further on they heard the sound of
+wheels upon a road.
+
+"There's the road!" cried Griffin, rapture in his voice. The sound
+gave him courage. He quickened his pace, and hastened on. Suddenly
+there was a splash, a cry of terror, then all was silence.
+
+"What's the matter?" cried Ellis, startled he scarcely knew at what.
+There was no reply. "Griffin, where are you? What's the matter?"
+
+There was a sound as of a splashing of water, and a stifled voice
+exclaimed,--
+
+"Help! I am drowning! He-elp!"
+
+Ellis pulled up short, and only just in time, for the ground seemed
+all at once to come to an end. He stood on the edge of a declivity,
+and in front of him was he knew not what. It was so dark, he could not
+see his hand in front of him. There was only the sound as of some one
+struggling in water, and faint cries for help. For an instant his legs
+seemed to refuse their office, his knees gave way from under him, and
+his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. Then he became conscious of
+wheels moving along a road which was close at hand. The sound gave him
+courage, and he shouted with the full force of his lungs,--
+
+"Help! help!"
+
+To his intense satisfaction, an immediate answer was returned.
+
+"Hollo!" a gruff voice replied; "who's that a-calling?"
+
+"I!--here!--in the field! There's some one drowning."
+
+"Hold hard! I'll bring you a light."
+
+A moment's pause; then in front of him a light was seen dimly
+approaching through the night. Never before had a light been so
+heartily welcome to Master Richard Ellis.
+
+"Where are you?"
+
+"Here! Take care where you're coming; there's a pond, or something,
+just in front of you."
+
+The new-comer approached, keeping a wary eye upon the ground as he
+advanced. Ellis saw it was a carter, and that he carried an
+old-fashioned round lantern in his hand, with a lighted candle stuck
+in the socket. The carter held the lantern above his head, standing
+still, and peering through the night. The man was visible to the boy,
+but the boy, shrouded in the blackness of the night, was invisible to
+the man.
+
+"Where are you?" he asked, seeing nothing in the gloom.
+
+"Never mind me; Griffin's drowning in a pond, or something."
+
+The splashing continued.
+
+"I'm drowning! He-elp!"
+
+The carter stooped forward, so that the light fell on the ground. Then
+Ellis perceived that between the man and himself was a little pond,
+into which the over-anxious Griffin had managed to fall.
+
+"There ain't no water there," said the carter. "Where are you? Come
+out of it. There ain't enough water to drown a cat."
+
+Griffin, perceiving that the fact was as the carter stated, proceeded
+to betake himself to what was, in comparison, dry land. But though not
+drowned, a more pitiable sight could scarcely be presented. He had
+fallen head-foremost into the filthy pool; the water was trickling
+down his head and face, and his countenance was plastered with an
+unsavoury coating of green slime.
+
+"What are you? a boy?" inquired the carter. "Well, you're a pretty
+sight, anyhow!"
+
+For answer Griffin burst into tears. Ellis, who had by this time found
+his way round the pond, joined in the criticism of his friend.
+
+"Well, I am blessed!" In spite of his own plight, he was almost moved
+to mirth. "Won't old Mother Fletcher take it out of you! I wouldn't be
+in your shoes for a pound."
+
+"Who's she? and who are you?" asked the carter.
+
+"Have you ever heard of Mecklemburg House?"
+
+"What, the school? Be you from the school? Well, you're a pretty
+couple, the pair of you. What little game are you up to now--running
+away? Won't they lay it into you!" The carter grinned; he was not
+aware that corporal punishment was interdicted at Mecklemburg House,
+and already seemed to see the "laying in" in his mind's eye.
+
+"We--weren't running--away!" wept Griffin. "We've lost our way."
+
+"Lost your way! Well, I never! That's a good one!" The carter seemed
+to doubt the statement.
+
+"We have lost our way," said Ellis.
+
+"Look here! for a couple of pins I'll take you by the scruff of your
+necks and walk you back myself, if you come any of your games on me."
+
+From his tone and manner the carter seemed to be indignant. Griffin
+stared--as well as he could through his tears and the slime--and Ellis
+stared, being both at a loss to understand his indignation.
+
+"Coming with your tales to me, telling me you've lost your way, with
+the school just across the road."
+
+His hearers stared still more.
+
+"You don't mean it?" Ellis said. "Why, if--I don't believe--why, if
+this isn't old Palmer's field, which he was only ploughing yesterday,
+and if you haven't tumbled into old Palmer's pond! Well, if we aren't
+a couple of beauties!"
+
+Griffin stared at Ellis, and the carter stared at both of them. The
+fact was beginning to dawn upon these young gentlemen, the startling
+fact, that they had been all the time in a country with every inch of
+which they were acquainted, and that it was only the darkness which
+had confused them. As the carter had said, Palmer's field--which was
+the name by which it was known to the boys--was right in front of
+Mecklemburg House, and, in consequence, the school, instead of being,
+as they supposed, a mile or so away, was just across the road. When
+they had fully realized this fact, the young gentlemen gave a
+simultaneous yell of satisfaction, and without wasting any time in
+compliments and thanks, dashed through the open gate, and out of
+sight, leaving the carter to the enjoyment of his own society.
+
+"Well," was the comment of that worthy, when he perceived the full
+measure of ingratitude which was entailed by this unlooked-for flight,
+"if I ever helps another being out of a ditch I'll let him know. Not
+even the price of half a pint!" Then he shouted after them, "I hope
+the schoolmeaster'll tan the hide from off you. I would if I were
+him."
+
+Possibly the expression of this pious wish in some degree relieved his
+feelings, for he followed the boys, though at a much more decorous
+pace, through the gate. When he reached the road, he stopped for a
+moment and looked around him, but there were no signs of any one in
+sight--the birds had flown. So, muttering beneath his breath what were
+probably not blessings, he returned to his charge, a huge vehicle,
+drawn by four perspiring horses, and which was loaded with market
+produce. Climbing up to his seat, he started his horses and continued
+his journey through the night. But though he was not aware of it, the
+young gentlemen who had treated him with such ingratitude had not come
+to the end of their adventure.
+
+The front gate of Mecklemburg House stood wide open, and they
+unhesitatingly dashed inside. But no sooner were they in the
+grass-grown courtyard than a thought struck Griffin.
+
+"I wonder if Bailey and Wheeler have come back?"
+
+"I don't know, and I don't care," said Ellis.
+
+But the interchange of speech brought them back to the sense of their
+situation.
+
+"How are you going to get in?" asked Griffin.
+
+"Through the schoolroom window; it's always open," replied his friend.
+
+But this always was a rule liable to exceptions, for on this occasion
+the particular window referred to happened to be shut. However, to
+understand all that was to follow, it is necessary to bring this
+chapter to an end.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter VII
+
+                     THE RETURN OF THE WANDERERS
+
+
+While Bailey and his friends were spending the evening in the company
+of Mr. George Washington Bankes, the principal of Mecklemburg House
+was in a condition in which principals are very seldom supposed to be,
+a condition very closely allied to tears.
+
+Mr. Fletcher was a tall, thin man, whose height was altogether out of
+proportion to his width. He was afflicted with a chronic stoop, and
+had a way, in walking, of shuffling, rather than stepping from foot to
+foot, which was scarcely dignified. His face was not unpleasing; there
+was a mildness in his eye and a sweetness about his infrequent smile
+which spoke of a gentler nature than the typical pedagogue is supposed
+to have.
+
+The Philistines were upon him now; the battle, which he had long been
+feebly eluding, rather than boldly facing, had closed its ranks, and
+in the mere preamble to the fray he had immediately succumbed. It
+would have been better, perhaps, if he had been made of sterner stuff,
+but, unless he could have been entirely changed into another man,
+sooner or later the end was bound to come. Mr. Fletcher was ruined,
+and with him Mecklemburg House Collegiate School was ruined too.
+
+He had been on a forlorn hope to town. A certain creditor, in return
+for money advanced, held a bill of sale on all the contents of the
+academy. Necessary payments had not been made, and he had threatened
+to swoop down upon the ancient red-brick house, and make a clearance
+of every desk and stool, every pot and kettle, every bed and bolster
+the premises contained. To appease this personage, Mr. Fletcher had
+journeyed up to town, and had journeyed up in vain. The fiat had gone
+forth that to-morrow, the day after, any day or any hour--in the
+middle of the night, for all he knew--hard-hearted strangers might and
+would arrive, and, without asking with your leave or by your leave,
+would strip Mecklemburg House of every movable it contained.
+
+This was what it had come to after five-and-twenty years! When his
+father died he had been left a comfortable sum of ready money,
+untarnished credit, and a flourishing school; of all which nothing was
+left him now.
+
+The principal and his wife were seated in their own sitting-room,
+trying to look the matter boldly in the face. Mr. Fletcher, sitting
+with his elbows on the table, covered his face with his hands. Mrs.
+Fletcher, a hard-featured woman, had her arm about his neck, and
+strove to comfort him. Her ideas of comfort were of a material sort.
+
+"Come, eat your supper, now do. You've had nothing to eat all day, and
+when you've eaten a bit things will look brighter, perhaps."
+
+Mr. Fletcher turned his care-worn face up to his wife.
+
+"Jane, things will never look bright to me again."
+
+The man's voice trembled, and the woman turned her face away, perhaps
+unwilling to let him see that in her eyes were tears. The principal
+got up and began to walk about the room. His stoop was more pronounced
+than usual, and his shuffling style of movement more ungainly.
+
+"I'm just a failure, that's what I am, a failure. The world's moved
+on, and I've stood still. I'm exactly where my father was, and in
+schools and schoolmasters there's a difference of a hundred years
+between his time and this. I'm not fit for keeping school in these new
+times. I don't know what I am fit for. I'm fit for nothing but to
+die!"
+
+"And if you die, what's to become of me?"
+
+"And if I live, what'll happen to you then?"
+
+"It'll happen to me that I'll have you, and do you think that's
+nothing?"
+
+"Jane, it's worse than nothing! You ought to have been the man instead
+of me. I shall be a clog to you and a burden; you're fit for fifty
+things, and I'm not fit for one! I could not make a decent clerk. I'm
+very certain I could not pass the examination required of a teacher in
+a board-school; I doubt if I ever could have reached that standard.
+I'm very certain I could not now. Times are changed in matters of
+education. People used to be satisfied with a twentieth part of what
+they now require. When I am turned out of the house in which I was
+born, and in which I have lived my whole life long, as I shall be in
+the course of a day or two, and you are turned out with me, wife,
+there will be fifty openings you will be fitted to fill, while
+I shall only be fit to carry circulars from house to house, or a
+sandwich-board through the streets."
+
+"It's no use talking in that way, Beauclerk; it only breaks my heart
+to hear you, and it does no good. We must make up our minds to do
+something at once, and the great thing is, what? Now come and eat your
+supper, or you'll be ill; you know how you suffer if you go hungry to
+bed."
+
+"I may as well become accustomed to it, because I shall have to go
+hungry very soon."
+
+"Beauclerk!--what is the use of going on like that?--do you want to
+break my heart?"
+
+"Wife, I believe mine's broken."
+
+Mr. Fletcher leaned his face against the wall just where he was
+standing, his long, lean frame shaken with his sobbing.
+
+"Beauclerk! Beauclerk! don't! don't!"
+
+Hard-faced Mrs. Fletcher went to her husband, and took him in her
+arms, and soothed him as though he were a child of five. Mr. Fletcher
+looked up. His face was ghastly with the effort he made at
+self-control.
+
+"I think I will have some supper; perhaps it will do me good,"
+
+Husband and wife sat down to supper. There were the remains of a leg
+of mutton, a little glass jar half-filled with pickled cabbage, a
+small piece of cheese, and bread. Mrs. Fletcher put some mutton on her
+husband's plate, and a smaller portion on her own. Mr. Fletcher
+swallowed one or two mouthfuls, but apparently it went against the
+grain.
+
+"I can't eat it," he said, pushing away his plate; "I'm not hungry."
+
+"Won't you have some cheese? it's very nice cheese."
+
+"I'm not hungry," repeated her husband.
+
+His wife held her peace; she continued eating, not, perhaps, because
+she was hungry, but possibly because she wished, in doing something,
+to find a momentary relief from the necessity of thinking. Mr.
+Fletcher sat drawing patterns with his fork upon the tablecloth.
+
+"I shall write to the parents in the morning. In fact, I ought to
+write to them to-night, but I don't feel up to it. I shall tell them
+that I am ruined, root and branch, stock and stone; that Mecklemburg
+House Collegiate School is a thing of the past, and that they had
+better remove their sons immediately, and let them have the means to
+travel with, because I have none."
+
+"When did Booker say he would distrain?"
+
+Booker was the creditor who held the bill of sale.
+
+"He didn't specify the exact hour and minute, but it'll only be a
+question of an hour or two in any case. We can't pay and the things
+must go."
+
+"But you have received money from some of the boys in advance."
+
+Mr. Fletcher got up, and began to pace the room again.
+
+"I have received money from most of them. Jane, what am I to do? As
+you know very well, I have received from more than half the boys the
+term's fees in advance. I am not clear that they could not prosecute
+me for obtaining money by means of false pretences; but, in any case,
+I shall feel that I have played the part of a dishonest man. Why
+didn't I say frankly at the beginning of the term, I am ruined, ruined
+hopelessly! and gone down at once without a pretence of struggling
+through another term?"
+
+"We have struggled through so many, we could not tell we should not be
+able to struggle again."
+
+"At any rate, we haven't. Before we're halfway through the term we're
+beaten, and I have received money on what was very much like false
+pretences. Then there are Mr. Till and Mr. Shane; they're entitled to
+a term's salary, if they could not lay claim to a term's notice too."
+
+Mrs. Fletcher's face grew cold and hard, and there was an unpleasant
+glitter in her eyes.
+
+"I shouldn't trouble myself about them; a more helpless lout than Mr.
+Shane, as you call him, I never saw, and to my mind Mr. Till never has
+been worth his salt. This morning, when he was left in charge, the
+school was like a bear-garden; I had to go in half a dozen times to
+ask what the noise was about. It's my belief that if you had had
+proper assistance you wouldn't be in the state you are in now."
+
+Mr. Fletcher sighed.
+
+"That is not the question, my dear; I owe them the money, and they
+ought to be paid. I know that they are both almost, if not quite
+penniless, and if I do not pay them something I doubt whether they
+will have the means to take them up to town. Remember, too, that this
+is the middle of term, and that how long they will be without even the
+chance of getting another situation goodness only knows."
+
+"And are you better off? Have you better prospect of a situation?
+Beauclerk, before you pay either of those men a penny you will have to
+speak to me; I will not be robbed by them."
+
+"If I would I have nothing to pay them with, so there is an end of it,
+my dear."
+
+"Do you know what Mr. Shane's latest performance has been?" Struck
+by something in his wife's tone, Mr. Fletcher glanced at her with
+inquiry in his eyes. "I have not told you yet, because I have been
+too much upset by the news which you have brought to tell you
+anything,--goodness knows we have enough of our own to bear without
+having to bear the brunt of that clown's blunders too."
+
+Seeing that his wife's eloquence bade fair to carry her away, Mr.
+Fletcher interposed a question.
+
+"What has Mr. Shane been doing?"
+
+"Doing! I'll tell you what he has been doing,--and you talk of robbing
+yourself to give him money! He let four of those boys go out in the
+rain this afternoon, when I expressly told him not to; and it would
+seem as if he has let them go for good, for they are still out now."
+
+Her husband looked at her, not quite catching the meaning of her
+words.
+
+"Still out now?"
+
+"Yes, still out now. Bailey, Griffin, Wheeler and Ellis went out this
+afternoon, in all the rain and fog, with Mr. Shane's permission; and
+out they've stopped, for they're not back yet."
+
+"Not back yet! Jane, you cannot mean it. Why, it's nearly midnight."
+Mr. Fletcher looked at his venerable silver watch, which had come to
+him, with the rest of his possessions, from his father. "What's that?"
+
+Husband and wife listened. The silence which reigned without had been
+broken by a crash from the schoolroom, a crash which bore a strong
+family resemblance to the sound made by the upsetting of a form.
+
+"It's those boys!" said Mrs. Fletcher. "They're getting through the
+window."
+
+She hurried off to see, her husband following closely after. All the
+lights were out; save the sitting-room which they had left, all the
+house was dark. She called to him to bring the lamp. Returning, he
+snatched it from the table and went after her again.
+
+They entered the schoolroom, Mr. Fletcher acting as lamp-bearer.
+Directly the door was opened they were conscious of a strong current
+of air within the room. Mrs. Fletcher went swiftly forward, picking
+her way among the desks and forms, and the cause of the noise they had
+heard and the draught they felt was soon apparent. The furthest window
+was wide open. In front of it a form was overturned upon the floor, a
+form which some one effecting a burglarious entrance through the
+window in the dark had unwittingly turned over. The lady's quick eye
+caught sight of a figure crouching behind a neighbouring desk. It did
+not take her long to drag a young gentleman out by the collar of his
+coat.
+
+"Well--upon--my--word!"
+
+Her astonishment was genuine, and excusable; few more disreputable
+figures ever greeted a lady's eye.
+
+"Is this Bailey?"
+
+It was Bailey. Perhaps at that moment Bailey rather wished it wasn't;
+but the surprise of his sudden capture had bereft him of the power of
+speech, and he was unable to deny his identity. The lady did nothing
+else but stare. Suddenly somebody else made his appearance at the
+window, a head rose above the window-sill, and a meek, modest voice
+inquired,--
+
+"Please, ma'am, may I come in?"
+
+The new-comer was Edward Wheeler. The lady's astonishment redoubled.
+
+"Well--I--never!"
+
+Taking this exclamation to convey permission, Wheeler gradually raised
+himself the necessary height, and finally, after a few convulsive
+plunges to prevent himself from slipping back again, scrambled through
+the window and stood upon the floor. Wheeler presented a companion
+picture to his friend. As he had lost his hat at an early hour of the
+evening, he, perhaps, in some slight details, bore away the palm from
+Bailey. Mrs. Fletcher stared at them both in blank amazement; in all
+her experience of boys she never had seen anything quite equal to
+these two. Mr. Fletcher, lamp in hand, came up to join in the
+inspection.
+
+"Where have you boys been?" he asked.
+
+"Out to tea," said Bailey.
+
+Mrs. Fletcher sniffed disdainfully.
+
+"Out to tea! Don't tell me that! I should think you've been out to tea
+in a ditch!"
+
+Mr. Fletcher carried on the examination.
+
+"How dare you tell me you've been to tea! Where have you boys been?"
+
+"We have been out to tea," said Bailey.
+
+"And where, sir, have you been having tea, that you come back at this
+hour, and in such a plight as that?"
+
+"Washington Villa," answered Bailey.
+
+"Washington Villa! And where's Washington Villa? But never mind that,
+I shall have something to say to you in the morning. Where are those
+other boys? Where are Griffin and Ellis?"
+
+"They're coming," muttered Bailey.
+
+Just then they came. While Mr. Fletcher hesitated, in doubt what to do
+or say, a voice, unmistakably Ellis', was heard without.
+
+"Is that you, Bailey? Won't I pay you out for this, you cad! We might
+have got drowned for all you cared. Here's Griffin got half-drowned as
+it is."
+
+Thrusting her head out of the window, Mrs. Fletcher replied to the
+wanderer; a reply, doubtless, as unexpected as undesired.
+
+"If Mr. Fletcher did as I wished him, he'd give each of you boys a
+good round flogging before you went to bed, a lot of disobedient,
+ungrateful, untruthful, and untrustworthy scamps!"
+
+Possibly this was enough for Ellis, for he subsided and was heard no
+more, but a sound of weeping arose. It was the grief of Charlie
+Griffin. Placing the lamp upon a desk, Mr. Fletcher put his head out
+of the window beside his wife's.
+
+"I'm not going to open the hall door for you at this time of night.
+Your friends came through the window, and you can follow your
+friends."
+
+They followed their friends, Ellis coming first; Griffin, with not
+unnatural bashfulness, preferring to keep in the background. Mrs.
+Fletcher's uplifted hands and cry of astonishment greeted Ellis, who
+was indeed a notable example of the possibilities of dirt as applied
+to the person, but Griffin's entry was followed by the silence of
+petrified amazement.
+
+His friends' attempts at disfigurement were altogether unsuccessful as
+compared to the success which had attended his. They were dandies
+compared to him. It was difficult at a first glance to realize that he
+was a boy, or indeed a human being of any kind. He was covered with a
+combination of weeds, green slime, particoloured filth, and yellow
+clay; the water dripped from the more prominent portions of his frame;
+his clothes were glued to his limbs; he was hatless; his face and hair
+were plastered with the aforesaid slime; and, to crown it all, he was
+convulsed with a sorrow which lay too deep for words.
+
+"Griffin!" was all that the headmaster's wife could gasp. "Charlie
+Griffin!"
+
+"Where have you been?" asked Mr. Fletcher.
+
+"I've been in the pond," gasped Griffin, half choked with mud and
+tears.
+
+"In the pond? What pond?"
+
+"Pa-almer's po-ond!"
+
+"Palmer's pond! What were you doing in there? What I'm to do with you
+boys is more than I can say!" Mr. Fletcher sighed. "There's one thing,
+I shan't have to do with you much longer." This was muttered half
+beneath his breath. "What are we to do with them, my dear?" This was a
+question to his wife.
+
+"Don't ask me; I don't know what we're to do with them. I should think
+that boy"--here she pointed an accusatory finger at Griffin--"had
+better go back to Palmer's pond. He appears to be fond of it, and it's
+the only place he's fit for." Griffin was moved to wilder tears. "He
+had better take his things off where he stands, and throw them out
+into the yard; they'll never be good for anything again, and he shan't
+go upstairs with them on. And all four of them"--this with sudden
+vivacity which turned attention away from Griffin--"must have a bath
+before they think of going to bed between my sheets. A pretty state of
+things to have to get baths ready at this time of night!"
+
+"Griffin, you had better take off your things," said Mr. Fletcher
+mildly, when his wife had finished. "I don't know what your father
+will say when he hears of the way in which you treat your clothing."
+
+Mrs. Fletcher returned to her sitting-room, and Griffin unrobed
+himself, flinging each separate article of clothing into the yard as
+he took it off. Then a procession, headed by Mr. Fletcher, started for
+the bath-room. After a few moments' contact with clean, cold water,
+the young gentlemen, presenting a more respectable appearance, were
+escorted to their bedroom, Mr. Fletcher remaining while they put
+themselves to bed. Having assured himself that they actually were
+between the sheets, "I will speak to you in the morning," he said, and
+disappeared.
+
+When the boys had satisfied themselves that he was out of hearing,
+their tongues began to wag. Griffin was still whimpering.
+
+"It's all through you, Bailey, I got into this row."
+
+Something suspiciously like a chuckle was the only answer which came
+from Bailey's bed.
+
+"I say, did you really tumble into Palmer's pond?" inquired Wheeler.
+
+"Of course I did! How could I help it when you couldn't see your hand
+before your face?"
+
+Wheeler buried himself in the bedclothes and roared with laughter.
+
+"You wouldn't have laughed if it had been you," continued the outraged
+Griffin. "I was as nearly drowned as anything. I should have been if
+it hadn't been for a fellow with a lantern."
+
+"Go away! drowned!" scoffed Bailey, unconsciously repeating the
+carter's words; "why, there isn't enough water to drown a cat!"
+
+"What did you go and leave us for like that?" asked Ellis.
+
+"Do you think I was going to mess about in the rain all night while
+you two were squabbling on top of each other in the mud?"
+
+"I call it a mean thing to do!"
+
+"Who cares what you call it?"
+
+"And if it weren't so jolly late, I'd give you something for
+yourself."
+
+"Oh, would you? You'd give me something for myself! I like that! You
+wait till the morning, and then perhaps I'll give you something for
+yourself instead!"
+
+Unconscious of the compliments which his affectionate pupils were
+bandying from one to the other, Mr. Fletcher returned to his wife,
+seated in the parlour. His whole air was one of depression, as of one
+who had no longer spirit enough to fight with fortune.
+
+"Well, it will be over to-morrow!" he said. "I don't think I'm much
+good at school-keeping; I'm not strong enough; I'm not sufficiently
+able to impress my influence on others." Going to the mantelshelf he
+leaned his head upon his hand. "I suspect I've failed as a
+schoolmaster because I deserved to fail."
+
+Then, forgetting the heroes of the night, his wife began to comfort
+him.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter VIII
+
+                         PREPARING FOR FLIGHT
+
+
+That night Bertie Bailey dreamed a dream. In fact, he dreamed several
+dreams; his slumber-time was passed in dreamland, journeying from
+dream to dream.
+
+He dreamed of the Land of Golden Dreams; of Mr. Bankes and Washington
+Villa; of a boy traversing a road which ran right around the world; of
+tumbling into ponds and scrambling out of them; of some mysterious
+country, peopled by a race of giants, to which there came a boy, who,
+single-handed, brought them low, and claimed the country for his own,
+and the soil of that land consisted of gold and silver, with judicious
+variations of precious stones. In his dreams he saw weapons flashing
+in the air, and he heard the sound of strange instruments of music.
+
+Just before he woke he dreamed the most vivid dream of all. A moment
+before all had been a chaos of bewilderment, but all at once he found
+himself alone, in the centre of some wild place, not quite sure what
+sort of place it was, nor where, nor of anything about it, but he knew
+that it was wild. A voice was heard in the air, and he knew that it
+was the voice of Mr. George Washington Bankes. The voice kept
+repeating, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" and every time the
+words were uttered the boy's heart leapt up within him, and he went
+bounding on. The one voice became several, the world was full of
+voices, yet he knew that they all belonged to the original Mr. George
+Washington Bankes; and over and over again they repeated the same
+refrain, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" till the whole world
+was alive with it, and birds and beasts and sticks and stones caught
+up the same refrain, "A life of adventure's the life for me!" and the
+boy's heart was filled with a great and wondrous exultation. But all
+at once the voices ceased; all was still; and the boy found that he
+was standing in front of a mighty mountain, which filled the world
+with darkness, and barred the way in front of him. And he was
+beginning to be afraid, when out of the silence and the darkness came,
+in a still small whisper--which he knew to be the whisper of Mr.
+George Washington Bankes--the words, "A life of adventure's the life
+for me!" and they put courage into his heart, and he stretched out his
+arm and touched the mountain, and, behold! at his touch it was cleft
+asunder, and in its bosom were all the treasures of the earth.
+
+But it was unfortunately at this point that he awoke. It was not
+unnatural that for some moments he should have refused to have
+acknowledged the fact--to confess that he really was awake, and that
+it had been nothing but a dream.
+
+It was broad daylight. The sun was peeping through the windows, along
+the edges of the ill-fitting blinds. It was nothing but a dream. As he
+began to realize the fact of the gleaming sunshine, even he was
+obliged to admit that it had been nothing but a dream. He turned in
+his bed with a dissatisfied grunt.
+
+"I never dreamed anything like that before, nothing half so real! It
+seemed as if I had only to put out my hand to touch that mountain
+now."
+
+But it only seemed, for there was no mountain there, only a coverlet,
+and a sheet, and a blanket or two, and a bolster, and a mattress, and
+a bed. Bertie lay on his back, with his eyes closed, attempting, by an
+effort of his will, to bring back the vanished dream. And to some
+extent he succeeded, for as he lay quiescent he seemed to hear,
+ringing in his ears, the words he had heard in his dream--
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!"
+
+He seemed so certainly to hear them that, just as they had done in his
+dream, they filled him with a sudden fire. Thoroughly aroused, he sat
+up in bed, grasping the bedclothes with eager hands. And to himself he
+said, half beneath his breath, "A life of adventure's the life for
+me!"
+
+The other boys were still asleep in the little iron bedsteads on
+either side of him, but he made no attempt to recompose himself to
+slumber. He remained sitting up in bed, his knees huddled up to his
+chin, engaged in a very unwonted act for him, the act of thinking.
+
+The events of the night before were vividly before him, but
+principally among them, a giant in the foreground, was the figure of
+Mr. George Washington Bankes.
+
+"Why don't you run away?" Mr. Bankes' question rang in his ears.
+
+"A life of adventure's the life for me!" Those other words of Mr.
+Bankes, which had been with him through the dream-haunted night, still
+danced before his eyes.
+
+Than Bertie Bailey a less romantic-looking youth one could scarce
+conceive. But history tells us that some of the greatest heroes of
+romance, real, live, flesh-and-blood heroes, who actually at some time
+or other did exist, were anything but romantic in their persons.
+Perhaps Bailey was one of these. Anyhow, stowed away in some
+out-of-the-way corner of his unromantic-looking person was a vein of
+romance of the most pronounced and unequivocal kind.
+
+His range of reading was not wide, yet he had his heroes of fiction
+none the less. They were rather a motley crew, and if he had been
+asked the question, say in an examination paper, "Who is your
+favourite hero? give a short sketch of his life," he would have
+hesitated once or twice before he would have written Dick Turpin,
+Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, or Jack the Giant-Killer. Perhaps he
+would have hesitated still longer before he had attempted to sketch
+the life of any one of them. Yet, had he told the truth, the gentleman
+selected would have been one of these.
+
+Possibly in the act of selection his greatest difficulty would have
+lain. He never could quite make up his mind which of the four
+gentlemen named above he liked the best. There were points about Dick
+Turpin which struck his fancy. He would rather have ridden that ride
+to York than have had ten thousand pounds. It would have been worth
+his while to have been Dick Turpin if only to possess that horse of
+horses, Black Bess, the coal-black steed of his heart's desire, though
+it may be mentioned in passing that up to the present moment Bertie
+Bailey had never figured upon a horse's back. He had once ridden a
+donkey from Ramsgate to Pegwell Bay, but a donkey was not Black Bess.
+
+On the other hand, there was no part of England with which he was
+better acquainted--theoretically--than the glades of Sherwood Forest.
+To have lived in those glades with Robin Hood, Bailey would heave a
+great sigh at the prospect; ah, that he only could! Yet certainly one
+had only to speak of the desert island, and of Robinson Crusoe on its
+lonely shore, for Bertie to feel a wild longing to plough the distant
+main, a longing which was scarcely consistent with his desire for the
+glades of Sherwood Forest. It is the fashion to sneer at fairy tales,
+and to speak of them as though they were beneath the supposititious
+dignity of the common noun boy, and certainly the marvellous history
+and adventures of Jack the Giant-Killer belong to the domain of the
+fairies. Possibly Bertie would have been himself ashamed to own his
+partiality for that hero of the nursery; and yet, to have had Jack's
+courage and strength and skill, to have slaughtered giants and taken
+castles and rescued maidens--Bertie sometimes dreamt of himself as
+another Jack, and then always with a rapture too deep for words.
+
+Perhaps his real, ideal, and favourite hero would have consisted of a
+judicious combination of the four--something of Dick Turpin, and
+something of Robin Hood, and something of Robinson Crusoe, and
+something of Jack the Giant-Killer. Take all these somethings and mix
+them well together, and you would have had the man for Bailey.
+Emphatically, although almost unconsciously, in all his waking dreams,
+a life of adventure had been the life for him.
+
+Mr. George Washington Bankes had applied the match to the powder. As
+he thought of all that gentleman had said, even in the cool of the
+morning, all his soul was on fire. Seeing him in his nightshirt of
+doubtful cleanliness, and with his touzled hair, you might not have
+supposed that there was fire in his soul, but there was. Run away! He
+had heard of boys running away from school before to-day.
+
+Boys had run away from Mecklemburg House, and there were stories of
+one who, within quite recent times, had made a dash for liberty. Some
+said he had got as far as Windsor, some said Dorking, before he had
+changed his mind and decided to come back again. But he had come back
+again. Bailey made up his mind that when he ran away he would never
+come back again; never! or, at any rate, not till he had traversed the
+world in several different directions, as Mr. George Washington Bankes
+had done.
+
+It had already become a question of _when_ he ran away. With that
+quickness in arriving at a decision which, so some tell us, is the
+sure sign of a commanding intellect, he had already decided that he
+would; there only remained the question of time and opportunity.
+
+"Why don't you run away?" Mr. Bankes had asked. Yes, why, indeed?
+especially if one had only to run away to step at once into the Land
+of Golden Dreams!
+
+When the boys took their places in the schoolroom after breakfast,
+prepared for morning school, a startling announcement was made to them
+by Mr. Fletcher. Bailey and his friends had expected that something
+would be said to them on the subject of their escapade of the night
+before; but so far, so far as those in authority were concerned, their
+expectations had been disappointed. They had been sufficiently
+cross-examined by their fellow-pupils, and in spite of a slight
+suggestive foreboding of something unpleasant to come, when they
+perceived how their proceedings appeared in the eyes of their
+colleagues, they were almost inclined to look upon themselves somewhat
+in the light of heroes. Griffin, indeed, had not heard the last of the
+pond, and it was not of the tragic side of his misadventure that he
+heard the most. There were some disagreeable remarks made by personal
+friends who would not see that he had run imminent risk of being
+drowned. He almost began to wish that he had been.
+
+"You wouldn't have laughed at it then," he said. But they laughed at
+it now.
+
+But neither from Mr. Till, nor from Mr. Shane, nor from Mr. Fletcher,
+nor from the far more terrible Mrs. Fletcher, had either of the young
+gentlemen heard a word.
+
+And just when they were preparing for morning school Mr. Fletcher made
+his startling announcement.
+
+At first the quartett thought, not unreasonably, that his remarks were
+going to have particular reference to them and to their misdoings, but
+they were wrong. The headmaster was seated at his desk, in a seemingly
+more than usually preoccupied mood; but he too often was preoccupied
+in school, so they paid no heed, and got out their books and slates,
+and other implements of study, with the ordinary din and clatter.
+Suddenly he spoke.
+
+"Boys, I want to speak to you."
+
+The boys looked at him, and the quartett looked at each other. Mr.
+Fletcher did not raise his head, but with his eyes fixed on the desk
+in front of him continued to speak as though he found considerable
+difficulty in saying what he had to say.
+
+"I have had heavy losses lately in carrying on the school. Some of you
+know that the number of boys has grown smaller by degrees and
+beautifully less."
+
+There was a faint smile about Mr. Fletcher's mouth which did not quite
+betoken mirth.
+
+"But I do not complain. I should not have mentioned it, only"--he
+paused, raised his head, and looked round the room, his eyes resting
+for a moment on each of the boys as they passed--"only when one has no
+boys one can keep no school. I have found, very certainly, that
+without boys school cannot keep me--my wife and I. Our wants are not
+large--they have grown even smaller of recent years--but to satisfy
+the most modest wants something is required, and we have nothing."
+
+Again he paused, and again something like the ghost of a smile flitted
+across his face. By this time the boys were listening with their eyes
+and ears, and Mr. Shane and Mr. Till listened with the rest.
+
+"I am a ruined schoolmaster. I should not have told you this--it is
+not a pleasant thing to have to tell--only my ruin is so complete, and
+so near. It will necessitate your returning home at once. Mecklemburg
+House will no longer be able to offer shelter to either you or I, and
+I--I was born here; you will perhaps be able to go with lighter
+hearts. I have communicated with your parents. You must pack your
+things at once; some of you will, perhaps, be fetched in an hour or
+two. I have advised your parents that you had better be all of you
+removed by to-morrow morning at the latest. Under these circumstances
+there will, of course, be no morning school; nor, indeed, in
+Mecklemburg House any more school at any time."
+
+Perhaps, in that schoolroom, the silence had never been so marked as
+it was when Mr. Fletcher ceased. The boys looked at each other, and at
+their master, scarcely understanding what it was that he had said, and
+by no means certain that they were entitled to believe their ears. No
+morning school! Mecklemburg House ceased to exist! Pack up! Going home
+at once! These things were marvellous in their eyes. There were those
+among them who had not failed to see the way in which things were
+tending, who knew that Mecklemburg House was very far from being what
+it was, that the glory was departed; but for such a thunderclap as
+this they were wholly unprepared. Pack up! Going home at once! The
+boys could do nothing else but stare.
+
+"You will disperse now, and go into the playground. Put your books
+away quietly You will be called in as you are wanted to assist in
+packing."
+
+They put their books away. It was unnecessary to bid them do it
+quietly; their demeanour had never been so decorous. Then they filed
+out silently, one after the other, and the headmaster and his ushers
+were left alone.
+
+One boy there was who walked out of that schoolroom as though he were
+walking in a dream. This was Bailey. It was all wonderful to him. He
+was watching for an opportunity to fly--he knew not why, he knew not
+where; but that is by the way. He had only begun to watch an hour or
+two ago, and here was the opportunity thrust into his hand. He never
+doubted for an instant that here was the opportunity thrust into his
+hand.
+
+It was now or never. He had reasons of his own for knowing that when
+he had left Mecklemburg House he had left boarding-school for ever. He
+might have a term or two at a day-school, but what was the use of
+running away from a school of that description? It was heroic to run
+away from boarding-school, but from day-school--where was the heroic
+quantity in that? No, it was now or never, and Bertie Bailey resolved
+it should be now. So in a secluded corner of the playground he matured
+his adventurous scheme; for even he was not prepared to rush through
+the playground gate and dash into the world upon the spot.
+
+"I must get some money."
+
+So much he decided. It may be mentioned that he arrived at this
+decision first of all. It may be added that his consciousness of the
+desirability of getting money was not lessened by the fact that he
+possessed none now; no, not so much as a specimen of the smallest
+copper coinage of the realm.
+
+"I must try to borrow some from some of the chaps." He was aware that
+this was not a hopeful field. "But a fellow can't go without any money
+at all; even Mr. Bankes said he had ninepence-halfpenny." He
+remembered every word which Mr. Bankes had said. "Wheeler had
+sevenpence, and he promised to lend me twopence, but he's such a
+selfish beast I shouldn't be surprised if he's changed his mind.
+Besides, I ought to have more than twopence, or sevenpence, either.
+Perhaps he might lend me the lot; he's not a bad sort sometimes.
+Anyhow, I'll try."
+
+He tried. Slipping his arm through Wheeler's he drew him on one side.
+He approached the matter diplomatically.
+
+"I say, Wheeler, I know you're a trump."
+
+This sort of diplomacy was a mistake; Wheeler was at once on the
+alert.
+
+"What are you buttering me up for? Don't you think you're going to get
+anything out of me, because you just aren't; so now you know it."
+
+This was abrupt, not to say a little brutal, perhaps. Bailey perceived
+the error he had made; he changed his tone with singular presence of
+mind.
+
+"Look here, Wheeler, I want you to lend me that sevenpence of yours."
+
+"Then you'll have to want; I like your cheek!"
+
+"Lend me sixpence."
+
+"I won't lend you a sight of a farthing."
+
+"You promised to lend me twopence."
+
+"Oh, did I? Then I won't. I'm going to buy sevenpenn'orth of cocoanut
+candy, and perhaps I'll give you a bit of that, though I don't
+promise, mind; and it'll only be a little bit, anyhow."
+
+"But look here, I want it for something--I do, I really do, or else I
+wouldn't ask you for it."
+
+"What do you want it for?" asked Wheeler, struck by something in the
+other's tone.
+
+"Oh! for something particular."
+
+"What do you want it for? If you tell me, perhaps I'll lend it."
+
+This was a bait; but Bailey did not trust his friend so completely as
+he might have done. He suspected that if he told him what it really
+was wanted for, the story might be all over the playground in a
+minute; and it was possible that his friends might not view his
+intended flight from the heroic point of view from which it appeared
+to him. So he temporized.
+
+"If you'll lend me the sevenpence first, I'll tell you afterwards."
+
+"You catch me at it! What do I want to know what you want it for? I
+know I want it myself, and that's quite enough for me."
+
+Wheeler turned away; Bailey caught him by the arm.
+
+"Lend me the twopence which you promised."
+
+"I won't lend you a brass farthing."
+
+Bertie felt the moment was not propitious. It occurred to him that he
+might pick a quarrel with his friend and fight him, and that when he
+had fought him long enough his friend might see things in a different
+light, and a loan might be arranged. But of this he was by no means
+certain. He was not clear in his own mind as to the amount of
+hammering which would be required to bring about a conversion. He had
+never measured his strength with Wheeler; and it even occurred to him
+that he might be the hammered one, and not his friend. On the whole,
+he thought that he had better leave that scheme untried; sevenpence
+might be bought too dearly.
+
+Baffled in one quarter he tried another. In quest of money he
+buttonholed all the school. But this, again, was a mistaken step. It
+soon got about that Bailey was in search of some one to devour, and,
+in consequence, those who were worth devouring took the hint--they by
+no means showed themselves anxious to be devoured. In spite of his
+repeated efforts, he only met with one success, and that was one of
+which he was scarcely entitled to be proud.
+
+Willie Seymour, Bailey's cousin, has been already mentioned. He was
+the youngster who led Mr. Shane's German grammar on its final road to
+ruin. A little pale-faced boy, certainly not more than nine years old,
+and without even the strength of his years.
+
+Bertie caught him by the jacket.
+
+"Now then, where's that money of yours?"
+
+His temper was not improved by the want of confidence his friends had
+shown, and this was not a case in which he thought delicacy was
+required.
+
+"What money? Bertie, don't! you're hurting my arm!"
+
+"Yes, and I'll hurt it, too! Where's that money of yours? I know
+you've got some."
+
+"I've only got one and fivepence. Mamma sent it me last week to buy a
+birthday present. It was my birthday, you know."
+
+"Oh, was it! Then I'll buy you a birthday present--something spiffing.
+Fork it up!"
+
+"But, Bertie----"
+
+"Fork it up!"
+
+"It's in my desk."
+
+"Then just you let me see your desk. It's never safe to leave money in
+your desk; it might get stolen."
+
+And Bailey dragged his relative indoors. It may be mentioned that
+Willie's mother (Bertie's aunt) had particularly commended her lad to
+Bertie's care. This was the first symptom of a careful disposition he
+had shown.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter IX
+
+                              THE START
+
+
+With tears and sighs Willie Seymour produced his desk for his
+relative's inspection. It was a little rosewood desk which his mother
+had given him to keep his papers in, and envelopes, and his own
+particular pens, and his stamps, and his money, and his treasures.
+Bailey proceeded to inspect it.
+
+"Where's the key?"
+
+"Don't take the money, Bertie. Mamma sent it me to buy a birthday
+present with, and I've spent sevenpence already. It was two shillings
+she sent."
+
+"Oh, you've spent sevenpence, have you! Then I've half a mind to give
+you a licking for spending such a lot. Do you think your mother sent
+you money to chuck about all over the place? She told me to look after
+you, and so I will. Give me the key."
+
+From a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends, which bulged out the
+pockets of his knickerbockers, the key was produced.
+
+"Don't take the money, Bertie!"
+
+Bailey unlocked the desk with a magisterial air.
+
+"If your mother knew that you'd spent sevenpence, what d'ye think
+she'd say to me? She'd say, 'I told you to look after him, and here
+you let him go chucking the money I sent him to buy a birthday present
+into his stomach, and making himself as ill as I don't know what! Is
+that the way to buy a birthday present? Nice affectionate lad you
+are!'"
+
+At this point Bailey, having discovered the one and fivepence, held it
+in his hand.
+
+"I shall put this money into my pockets, and I shall take care of it
+for you, and when you want it, you come to me and ask for it. D'ye
+hear?"
+
+At this point he slipped the money into his trousers pocket.
+
+Willie wept.
+
+"What are you snivelling for? If you don't stop I'll take care of your
+desk as well. Now I think of it, Wheeler wants just such a desk as
+this. I shouldn't be surprised if he gave me sevenpence for it; it
+would just come in handy."
+
+Bailey subjected the desk to a critical examination.
+
+"I'll tell Mr. Fletcher if you take my desk away."
+
+"What, sneak, would you? As it happens, I don't care for you or Mr.
+Fletcher either."
+
+Bertie tucked the desk under his arm and moved to the door. Willie
+flung his head upon his arms and burst into a passion of tears. At the
+door Bertie turned and surveyed the child.
+
+"Here, take your desk. Think I want the thing!"
+
+He flung the desk towards his cousin. Falling on the edge of a form,
+it burst open, and the contents were thrown out of it. Leaving Willie
+to make the best of a bad case, and pick up his ill-used property,
+Bertie marched away with the one and fivepence in his pocket.
+
+That one and fivepence was all the cash he could secure. He made one
+or two efforts in the course of the day to increase his capital by the
+addition of a penny or two, but the efforts were in vain. None of the
+smaller boys had any money; some of the seniors he suspected were in
+possession of funds, but in face of their refusal to oblige him with a
+temporary loan he did not feel justified in taking them by the throats
+and putting into practice any theory of their money or their life. He
+suspected he might get neither; sundry knocks and bruises he might be
+the richer for, but they were riches for which he had no longing. One
+particularly gallant attack he made upon a suspected seat of capital
+does not deserve to go unchronicled.
+
+The suspected seat of capital was Mr. Shane. Chancing to pass the
+schoolroom on his way downstairs, a glimpse he caught of some one
+within brought him to a standstill. He entered; he shut the door
+behind him for precaution's sake, being unwilling that his friends
+should intrude upon what he perceived might be a delicate interview.
+
+In a corner of the schoolroom was Mr. Shane. He sat with his elbows
+resting on the desk and his head resting on his hands. So absorbed was
+he in his own meditations that he paid no heed to Bailey's entrance.
+Bertie watched him in silence for a moment or two, then he made his
+presence known.
+
+"I say, Mr. Shane."
+
+Mr. Shane started and looked up. His face was very pale, there were
+traces of what were suspiciously like tears about his eyes, and his
+whole appearance was as of one who had received a sudden blow. Without
+speaking he stared at Bailey, whose presence evidently took him by
+surprise. Seeing that the other held his peace, Bertie came to the
+point.
+
+"Can you lend me a shilling or two?"
+
+"Lend you a shilling or two!"
+
+"I daresay you'll think it like my cheek to ask you, and so it is;
+but--I'm in an awful hole, I really am. I know I've not been such a
+civil beggar as I might have been, but--I never meant any harm;
+and--I'm sorry about that grammar, I really am; I'd buy you another if
+I'd got the money, upon my word I would--I don't know what I wouldn't
+do for you if you'd lend me a shilling or two--especially if you'd make
+it three."
+
+In spite of himself Bertie grinned, and his eyes glistened at the idea
+of spoiling the usher. Mr. Shane stared at him, as well he might. He
+spoke with a sort of little pause between each word, as though he were
+doubtful if he had heard aright.
+
+"You want me to lend you a shilling or two?--me?"
+
+"Yes. I'll let you have it back as soon as, I can, and I'm in an awful
+hole, or I wouldn't ask you. Do lend it me!"
+
+Mr. Shane stood up, with a curious agitation in his air.
+
+"I haven't got it."
+
+"Not got it I Not got a shilling or two! Oh, I say, come!"
+
+"I haven't got a penny in the world."
+
+"Not got a penny in the world! Oh, I say, aren't you piling it on!"
+
+"Not a penny; not a penny in the world; not one. I'm a beggar!"
+
+Mr. Shane's agitation was so curious, and the air with which he
+proclaimed himself a beggar was so wild, that Bertie's surprise grew
+apace. He wondered whether, as he might himself have phrased it, the
+usher had a tile loose in his head.
+
+"See!" Mr. Shane turned his coat-tail pockets inside out. There was
+nothing in them. "See!" He followed suit with the pockets in his
+trousers. They also were void and empty. "Nothing! nothing! not a sou!
+Mr. Fletcher engaged to pay me sixteen pounds a year. There's fifteen
+shillings owing from last term. I couldn't afford to buy myself a pair
+of boots when I came back. Look at my boots." Mr. Shane held up his
+boots, one after the other. Bertie stared at them; they were very much
+the worse for wear. "And now he tells me that I'm to leave this very
+day, leave in the very middle of the term, without a penny-piece. He
+says he cannot let me have a penny-piece. I've worked hard for my
+money; he knows I've worked hard for my money; he knows I've been
+cruelly used; and yet he sends me away in the middle of the term a
+beggar, and with fifteen shillings owing from last term. What am I to
+do! My mother lives at Braintree. I can't walk all the way to
+Braintree in Essex, especially in such boots as these; and she hasn't
+any money to give me when I get there, and I can't get another
+situation in the middle of the term. It's cruel, cruel, cruel! I'm a
+beggar, and I shall have to go to the workhouse and sleep in the
+casual ward, and break stones before they let me leave in the morning.
+It's wicked cruelty! I don't care who hears me say it, so it is!"
+
+Mr. Shane's agitation, though real enough, was also sufficiently
+grotesque. With his pockets turned inside out, and his collar and
+necktie all awry, he paced about the schoolroom, swinging his arms,
+speaking in his thin, cracked tones, the tears running down his
+cheeks, half choked with passion. It was the grotesque side of the
+usher's woe which appealed to Bailey.
+
+"You don't mean to say Mr. Fletcher won't pay you your wages?"
+
+"I do, I do! He says he hasn't got it; he says he doubts if he has
+five shillings to call his own. What right has he to engage an usher
+if he has not got five shillings of his own? How does he expect to pay
+me, and fifteen shillings owing from last term? How am I to walk to
+Braintree in Essex in these boots without a penny in my pocket? and
+what will my mother say when I get home--if I ever do get home--with
+no money in my pocket, and turned out of a situation in the middle of
+a term? It's a cruel, wicked shame, and I'll shout it out in the
+middle of the road! I don't care what they say, I will! I won't go
+without my money, if it's only the fifteen shillings left owing from
+last term!"
+
+"Then I suppose you can't lend me a shilling or two?"
+
+"Lend you a shilling or two! How can I? It's for you to advance a loan
+to me. Bailey, you've been a wicked boy to me ever since I came, and
+now to come and ask me to lend you money! You're all wicked about the
+place."
+
+"I've got one and fivepence." Bailey held the money in his hand.
+
+"One and fivepence! Bailey, it's your duty to lend me that one and
+fivepence. You can't want money, your parents will send you the means
+to take you home. And here am I without a penny. How am I to walk all
+the way to Braintree in Essex in these boots without a penny in my
+pocket? It is a wicked thing that I should ever have been induced to
+accept such a situation. It's your duty to make amends for your
+uniform bad conduct, and to sympathise with me in my distress. You
+ought to lend me that one and fivepence. Won't you lend it to me,
+Bailey?"
+
+Bertie went through the familiar pantomime of putting his fingers to
+his nose.
+
+"Me lend you one and fivepence--ax your grandmother! You must think me
+jolly green."
+
+He thrust the hand which still held the one and fivepence into his
+trousers pocket, and turning on his heel marched with an air of great
+deliberation to the door. At the door he turned, and again addressed
+the usher.
+
+"If I were you, old Shane, I'd go to Fletcher, and I'd say, 'Fork up,
+Fletcher, or I'll give you one in the eye;' and then if he didn't fork
+up I'd give him a couple of good fine black ones. He'd look nice with
+a couple of black eyes, would Fletcher; and, if you like, I'll come
+with you now and see you do it."
+
+He paused; but seeing that Mr. Shane gave no immediate signs of acting
+on this useful hint he went on,--
+
+"You haven't got the spirit of an old dead donkey. You'd let anybody
+have a kick at you. You're a regular all-round Molly, Shane."
+
+With this frank expression of heart-felt sympathy for Mr. Shane's
+distress he left the room, and banged the door behind him. His
+enterprise, though displaying boldness, had been a failure; he had not
+succeeded in adding to his capital. As he walked away from the
+schoolroom he meditated upon the matter.
+
+"One and fivepence isn't much--not to run away with--but Mr. Bankes
+said he'd only ninepence-halfpenny; I'm better than that. Still, I'd
+like another shilling or two; one and fivepence doesn't go far,
+stretch it how you will. But if I can't get more I'll make it do,
+somehow. If Mr. Bankes managed with ninepence-halfpenny I don't see
+why I shouldn't do with one and fivepence. Something is sure to turn
+up directly I am off."
+
+It occurred to him that perhaps Mr. Bankes might have had something
+else besides his ninepence-halfpenny--something in the shape of food,
+valuables, or extra clothing, or some other unconsidered trifle of
+that kind. Bertie perceived that if he put into execution his plan of
+immediate flight he would have to go as he was, with his one and
+fivepence and nothing else. He had a misty recollection of having read
+somewhere of a young gentleman, just such another hero as himself, who
+started on his exploration of the world with baggage in the shape of a
+red cotton handkerchief, which contained a clean shirt, some bread and
+cheese, and, if his memory served him, a pair of socks which his
+little sister had neatly darned for him on the night before his
+setting out.
+
+Bertie would have to start without even this amount of luggage. Nor
+could he understand that he would be much worse off on that account;
+the bread and cheese might be useful--if he remembered rightly, the
+young gentleman referred to had eaten his bread and cheese about ten
+minutes after starting--but for the shirt and socks he could perceive
+no use whatever. He had a sort of idea that either those sort of
+things would not be required, or else that they could be had for
+asking when he was once out in the world.
+
+But his chief fear was, and it kept him on tenter hooks throughout the
+day, that his grand exploit would be nipped in the bud, altogether
+frustrated, by his being prematurely fetched home. He lived at Upton,
+a little town in Berkshire, not twenty miles away. It would not take
+long for Mr. Fletcher's communication to reach his home, and it was
+quite within the range of possibility that a messenger would be
+immediately despatched to fetch him. In that case he would sleep that
+night in a paternal bed, and farewell to the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+The flitting had already commenced. By the afternoon some of the boys,
+who lived close by, had already gone. The packing progressed briskly.
+He had seen with his own eyes his boxes locked and corded. It was with
+very mixed sensations that he had himself assisted at the process.
+Within those well-worn receptacles was he locking and cording the Land
+of Golden Dreams! At the mere thought of such a thing he could have
+shed unheroic tears. At any moment he might be called, he might be
+greeted by a familiar face, he might be whirled away in a cab at the
+rate of four or five miles an hour, with his luggage on the roof of
+the vehicle, and then--farewell to the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+He might have put an end to his uncertainty by starting at once on his
+progress through the world. But he had made up his mind that that was
+not the thing. To run away in broad daylight, like an urchin who had
+stolen a twopenny loaf, with half a dozen yelping curs at his heels
+and not impossibly the country folks all grinning--who could connect
+romance with such an undignified departure? No, night was the thing
+for him--silent, mysterious night; and, above all, the witching hour.
+That was the time for romance! Under the cold white moon, and across
+the moonlit meadows, when all the world was sleeping--then he could
+conceive a flight into the world of mystery and of magic, and of Lands
+of Golden Dreams. So he had decided that as nearly as possible
+midnight should be the moment for his adventures to begin.
+
+The choice of such an hour put difficulties in his way. First of all,
+there was the difficulty of being sure of the time. He did not himself
+possess a watch, and he could not rely upon some distant church clock
+informing him of the passage of the night. Fortunately he remembered
+that Tom Graham, who slept in a bed next door but one to his,
+possessed a watch. He would time his departure by Tom Graham's watch.
+Then there was the difficulty of egress--how was he to get away? In
+his strong desire to play the more heroic part, he would have liked to
+have dropped from the window of his bedroom some thirty-five feet on
+to the paving-stones of the courtyard below. But then he reflected
+that he would not improbably break his neck, and it would be just as
+well not to begin his adventures by doing that; that sort of thing
+would come in its proper place a little later on. He might knot his
+sheets together, and form an impromptu rope, and descend by means of
+that: there were charms about the idea which commended themselves to
+him. He had seen a picture somewhere of a gallant youth descending by
+means of such a rope a tower apparently a mile or two in height; it
+was an unpleasant night and the youth was whirled hither and thither
+by the tempestuous winds. Had his bedroom been a couple of miles
+from the ground, why then--Bailey smacked his lips, and his eyes
+glistened--but as it wasn't he discarded the idea. He sighed to think
+that they build none of those lofty towers now--at least, so far as
+he was aware.
+
+No; for the present it was sufficient to get away. Let him first get
+clear away, and then he would have adventures fast enough. He decided
+that the old familiar schoolroom window would suffice for the
+occasion. He would get out of that.
+
+But the chief difficulty he had to face was the terrible risk which
+existed of his being fetched away. One boy after another went; hour
+after hour passed; a bare handful of young gentlemen remained. They
+had dinner, such as it was; but Bertie had lost his appetite, and was
+for the nonce contented with meagre fare. They had tea, which was
+postponed to the latest possible hour, and which when it came
+consisted of a liquid which such boys as partook of it declared was
+concocted of the tea leaves which had remained at breakfast, and which
+was accompanied by thick slices of unbuttered bread. But Bertie never
+grumbled; he ate his bread and he drank his tea without suggesting
+anything against its quality.
+
+The evening passed. The number of boys was still more diminished, yet
+for Bailey no one came. The clock pointed to an hour at which it was
+declared that no one could come now--it was half-past nine. The usual
+hour for bed was half-past eight, but the boys had been kept up in the
+expectation and possible hope that at Mecklemburg House it would not
+be necessary for them to go to bed at all. Now they were ordered to
+their rooms.
+
+Bertie could have danced, and sung, and stood on his head, and
+comported himself generally like a juvenile madman; but he refrained,
+His time was coming; he would be able to comport himself as he liked
+in two hours and a half, but at present the word was caution.
+
+It was arranged that all the boys who remained should sleep in the
+same room. There were only five: Edgar Wheeler, Tom Graham, little
+Willie Seymour, a boy whose parents were in India named Hagen, and
+commonly called Blackamoor, and Bertie Bailey. The first into bed was
+Bailey. Not a word was to be got out of him edgeways. He was a model
+of good behaviour. He even pressed the others to hurry into bed,
+to go to sleep, to let him sleep. They slept long before he did.
+He lay awake tingling all over. He listened to their regular
+respirations--Hagen was a loud snorer and always set up a signal of
+distress--and when he was sure they were asleep he hugged himself in
+bed. Then he sat up, being careful to make as little noise as
+possible, and in the darkness peered at his sleeping comrades. Their
+gentle breathing and Hagen's stentorian snores were music in his ears.
+Then he lay back in bed again, biding his time.
+
+He heard a clock strike the half-hour--half-past ten. It was a church
+clock. He wondered which. The night was calm, and the sound travelled
+clearly through the air; it might have been a long way off. And
+then--then he went to sleep.
+
+It was not at all what he intended--very much the other way. He had
+supposed that he had only to make up his mind to lie awake till twelve
+o'clock to do it. But he was wrong; the strain at which he had kept
+his faculties through the day had told upon him more than he had
+supposed.
+
+He awoke with a start--with a consciousness that something was wrong.
+He listened for a moment, wondering what strange thing had roused him.
+Then he remembered with a flash. The time had gone and he had slept.
+
+With a half-stifled cry he sprang up in bed. What time was it? Had he
+really slept? Only for a minute or two, he felt sure. He groped his
+way to Graham's bed. That young gentleman slept with his watch beneath
+his pillow; Bailey was awkward in his attempts to get at it without
+waking the sleepy owner.
+
+He got it, and took it to the window that he might see the time.
+Half-past two! soon it would be light--Bertie was almost inclined to
+think it was getting lighter now. He gave a cry of rage, and the watch
+dropped from his hand to the floor. Startled, he turned to see if the
+sleepers were awakened by the noise. He held his breath to listen.
+They slumbered as before. He picked up the watch and placed it on the
+mantelshelf, not caring to run the risk of rousing Graham by replacing
+it beneath his pillow. As he did so, he noticed that the glass was
+broken, shattered in the fall.
+
+With great rapidity he dressed himself, only pausing for a moment to
+see that the one and fivepence was safe. His slippers were packed; he
+had come to bed in his boots. Holding them in his hand, in his
+stockinged feet he stole across the room, carefully turned the handle
+of the door, went out, and shut the door behind him.
+
+He met with no accident on his way to the schoolroom. Within five
+minutes of his leaving his bed he was standing among the desks and
+forms. The blinds had not been drawn: the moonlight flooded the
+room--at any rate, the moon had not gone down. He was going to carry
+out so much of his plans--he was to fly through a moonlit world.
+Perhaps after all the little accident which had caused him to shut his
+eyes was not of much importance. Certainly, the sleep had refreshed
+him; he felt capable of making for the Land of Golden Dreams without
+requiring to pause upon the way.
+
+Among the moonlit desks and forms he put his boots on; laced them up;
+then, with a careful hand, slipped the hasp of the familiar window,
+raised the sash, got out, and lowered himself to the ground. It was
+only when he was on the ground that he remembered that he was without
+a cap. He put his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and
+produced an old cricket cap which he had privately secured when he was
+supposed to be assisting at the packing.
+
+Then he started for the Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter X
+
+                         ANOTHER LITTLE DRIVE
+
+
+He ran across the courtyard, glancing up at the silent house behind
+him. In the moonlight Mecklemburg House looked like a house of the
+dead. Through the gate, and out into the road; then, for a moment,
+Bertie paused.
+
+"Which way shall I go?"
+
+He stood, hesitating, looking up and down the road. In his anxiety to
+reach the Land of Golden Dreams he had not paused to consider which
+was the road he had to take to get there. Such a detail had not
+occurred to him. He had taken it for granted that the road would
+choose itself; now he perceived that he had to choose the road.
+
+"I'll go to London--something's sure to turn up when I get there. It
+always does. In London all sorts of things happen to a fellow."
+
+His right hand in his pocket, clasping his one and fivepence, he
+turned his face towards Cobham. He had a vague idea that to reach town
+one had to get to Kingston, and he knew that through Cobham and Esher
+was the road to Kingston. If he kept to the road the way was easy, he
+had simply to keep straight on. He had pictured himself flying across
+the moonlit fields; but he concluded that, for the present, at any
+rate, he had better confine himself to the plain broad road.
+
+The weather was glorious. It was just about that time when the night
+is about to give way to the morning, and there is that peculiar chill
+abroad in the world which, even in the height of summer, ushers in the
+dawn. It was as light as day--indeed, very soon it would be day;
+already in the eastern heavens were premonitory gleams of the
+approaching sun. But at present a moon which was almost at the full
+held undisputed reign in the cloudless sky. So bright were her rays
+that the stars were dimmed. All the world was flooded with her light.
+All was still, except the footsteps of the boy beating time upon the
+road. Not a sound was heard, nor was there any living thing in sight
+with the exception of the lad. Bertie Bailey had it all to himself.
+
+Bertie strode along the Cobham road at a speed which he believed to be
+first rate, but which was probably under four miles an hour. Every now
+and then he broke into a trot, but as a rule he confined himself to
+walking. Conscious that he would not be missed till several hours had
+passed, he told himself that he would have plenty of time to place
+himself beyond reach of re-capture before pursuit could follow. Secure
+in this belief, every now and then he stopped and looked about him on
+the road.
+
+He was filled with a sense of strange excitement. He did not show this
+in his outward bearing, for nature had formed his person in an
+impassive mould, and he was never able to dispossess himself of an air
+of phlegm. An ordinary observer would have said that this young
+gentleman was constitutionally heavy and dull, and impervious to
+strong feeling of any sort. Mr. Fletcher, for instance, had been wont
+to declare that Bailey was his dullest pupil, and in continual
+possession of the demons of obstinacy and sulkiness. Yet, on this
+occasion, at least, Bailey was on fire with a variety of feelings to
+every one of which Mr. Fletcher would have deemed him of necessity a
+stranger.
+
+It seemed to him, as he walked on and on, that he walked in fairyland.
+He was conscious of a thousand things which were imperceptible to his
+outward sense. His heart seemed too light for his bosom; to soar out
+of it; to bear him to a land of visions. That Land of Golden Dreams
+towards which he travelled he had already reached with his mind's eye,
+and that before he had gone a mile upon the road to Cobham.
+
+Mecklemburg House was already a thing of the past That petty poring
+over books, which some call study, and which Mr. George Washington
+Bankes had declared was such a culpable waste of time, was gone for
+ever. No more books for him; no more school; no more rubbish of any
+kind. The world was at his feet for him to pick and choose.
+
+By the time he had got to Cobham he was making up his mind as to the
+particular line of heroism to which he would apply himself. The old
+town, for Cobham calls itself a town, was still and silent, apparently
+unconscious of the glorious morning which was dawning on the world,
+and certainly unconscious of the young gentleman who was passing
+through its pleasant street, scheming schemes which, when brought to
+full fruition, would proclaim him a hero in the sight of a universe of
+men.
+
+"I'll be a highwayman; I'd like to be; I will be. If a coach and four
+were to come along the road this minute I'd stop the horses. Yes! and
+I'd set one of them loose, and I'd mount it, and I'd go to the window
+of the coach, and I'd say, 'Stand and deliver.' And I'd make them hand
+over all they'd got, watches, purses, jewellery, everything--I
+shouldn't care if it was L10,000."
+
+He fingered the one and fivepence in his pocket; the sound of the
+rattling coppers fired his blood.
+
+"And then I'd dash away on the horse's back, and I'd buy a ship, and
+I'd man it with a first-rate crew, and I'd sink it in the middle of
+the sea. And, first of all, I'd fill the long-boat with everything
+that I could want--guns, and pistols, and revolvers, and swords, and
+bullets, and powder, and cartridges and things--and I'd get into it
+alone, and I'd say farewell to the sinking ship and crew, and I'd row
+off to a desert island, and I'd stop there five-and-twenty years. Yes;
+and I'd tame all the birds and animals and things, and I'd be happy as
+a king. And then I'd come away."
+
+He did not pause to consider how he was to come away; but that was a
+detail too trivial to deserve consideration. By this time Cobham was
+being left behind; but he saw nothing save the life which was to be
+after he had left that desert isle.
+
+"I'd go to Sherwood Forest, and I'd live under the greenwood tree, and
+I'd form a band of robbers, and I'd have them dressed in green, and
+I'd seize the Archbishop of Canterbury, and I'd make him fight me with
+single-sticks, and I'd let the beggars go, and I'd give the poor all
+the booty that I got."
+
+What the rest of the band would say to this generous distribution of
+their hard-earned gains was another detail which escaped
+consideration.
+
+"And I'd be the oppressor of the rich and the champion of the poor,
+and I'd make everybody happy." How the rich were to be made happy by
+oppression it is difficult to see; but so few systems of philosophy
+bear a rigorous examination. "And I'd have peace and plenty through
+the land, and I'd have lots of fighting, and if there was anybody in
+prison I'd break the prisons open and I'd let the prisoners out, and
+I'd be Ruler of the Greenwood Tree."
+
+His thoughts turned to Jack the Giant-Killer. By now the day was
+really breaking, and with the rising sun his spirits rose still
+higher. The moonlight merging into the sunshine filled the country
+with a rosy haze, which was just the kind of thing for magic.
+
+"I wish there still were fairies."
+
+If he only had had the eyes no fairyland would have been more
+beautiful than the world just then.
+
+"No, I don't exactly wish that there were fairies--fairies are such
+stuff; but I wish that there were giants and all that kind of thing.
+And I wish that I had a magic sword, and a purse that was always more
+full the more you emptied it, and that I could walk ten thousand miles
+a day. I wish that you had only got to wish for a thing to get
+it--wouldn't I just start wishing! I don't know what I wouldn't
+wish for."
+
+He did not. The catalogue would have filled a volume.
+
+"But the chief thing for which I'd wish would be to be exactly where I
+am, and to be going exactly where I'm going to."
+
+He laughed, and thrust his hands deeper in his pockets when he thought
+of this, and was so possessed by his emotions that he kicked up his
+heels and began to dance a sort of fandango in the middle of the road.
+He perceived that it was a pleasant thing to wish to be exactly where
+he was, and to be so well satisfied with the journey's end he had in
+view. It is not every boy who is bound for the Land of Golden Dreams;
+and especially by the short cut which reaches it by way of the Cobham
+road.
+
+So far he had not met a single human being, nor seen a sign, nor heard
+a sound of one. But when he had fairly left Cobham in the rear, and
+was yet engaged in the performance of that dance which resembled the
+fandango, he heard behind him the sound of wheels rapidly approaching.
+They were yet a considerable distance off, but they were approaching
+so swiftly that one's first thought was that a luckless driver was
+being run away with. When Bertie heard them first he started. His
+thought was of pursuit; his impulse was to scramble into an adjoining
+field, and to hide behind a hedge. It would be terrible to be
+re-captured in the initiatory stage of his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+But his alarm vanished when he turned and looked behind him. The
+vehicle approaching contained a friend. Even at that distance he
+recognised it as the dog-cart of Mr. George Washington Bankes. The
+ungainly-looking beast flying at such a terrific pace along the lonely
+road was none other than the redoubtable Mary Anne.
+
+In a remarkably short space of time the vehicle was level with Bertie.
+For a moment the boy wondered if he had been recognised; but the doubt
+did not linger long, for with startling suddenness Mary Anne was
+brought to a halt.
+
+"Hallo! Who's that? Haven't I seen you before? Turn round, you
+youngster, and let me see your face. I know the cut of your jib, or
+I'm mistaken."
+
+Bertie turned. He looked at Mr. Bankes and Mr. Bankes looked at him.
+Mr. George Washington Bankes whistled.
+
+"Whew--w--w, if it isn't the boy who stood up to the lout. What's your
+name?"
+
+"Bailey, sir; Bertie Bailey."
+
+"Oh, yes; Bailey! Early hours, Bailey--taking a stroll, eh? What in
+thunder brings you here this time of day? I thought good boys like you
+were fast asleep in bed."
+
+Bailey looked sheepish, and felt it. There was something in the tone
+of Mr. Bankes' voice which was a little trying. Bertie hung his head,
+and held his peace.
+
+"Lost your tongue? Poor little dear! Speak up. What are you doing here
+this time of day?"
+
+"If you please, sir, I'm running away."
+
+"Running away!"
+
+For a moment Mr. Bankes started. Then he burst into a loud and
+continued roar of laughter, which had an effect upon Bertie very
+closely resembling that of an extinguisher upon a candle.
+
+"I say, Bailey, what are you running away for?"
+
+Under the circumstances Bertie felt this question cruel. When he had
+last seen Mr. Bankes the question had been put the other way. He had
+been treated as a poor-spirited young gentleman because he had not run
+away already. Plucking up courage, he looked up at his questioner.
+
+"You told me to run away."
+
+The only immediate answer was another roar of laughter. Something very
+like tears came into the boy's eyes, and his face assumed that
+characteristically sullen expression for which he was famous. This was
+not the sort of treatment he had expected.
+
+"You don't mean to say--now look me in the face, youngster--you don't
+mean to say that you're running away because I told you to?"
+
+The last words of the question were spoken very deliberately, with a
+slight pause between each. Bertie's answer was to the point. He looked
+up at Mr. Bankes with that sullen, bull-dog look of his, and said,--
+
+"I do."
+
+"And where do you think you're running to?"
+
+"To the Land of Golden Dreams."
+
+There was a sullen obstinacy about the lad's tone, as though the
+confession was extracted from him against his will.
+
+"To the Land of Golden Dreams! Well! Here, you'd better get up. I'll
+give you a lift upon the road? and there's a word or two I'd like to
+say as we are going."
+
+Bertie climbed up to the speaker's side, and Mary Anne was again in
+motion. The swift travelling through the sweet, fresh morning was
+pleasant; and as the current of air dashed against his cheeks Bertie's
+heart began to re-ascend a little. For some moments not a word was
+spoken; but Bertie felt that Mr. Bankes' big black eyes wandered from
+Mary Anne to him, and from him to Mary Anne, with a half-mocking,
+half-curious expression.
+
+"I say, boy, are any of your family lunatics?"
+
+The question was scarcely courteous. Bertie's lips shut close.
+
+"No."
+
+"Quite sure? Now just you think? Anybody on your mother's side just a
+little touched? They say insanity don't spring to a head at once, but
+gathers strength through successive generations."
+
+Bailey did not quite understand what was meant; but knowing it was
+something not exactly complimentary he held his peace.
+
+"Now--straight out--you don't mean to say you're running away because
+I told you to?"
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"And for nothing else?"
+
+Bertie paused for a moment to consider.
+
+"I don't know about nothing else, but I shouldn't have thought of it
+if you hadn't told me to."
+
+"Then it strikes me the best thing I can do is to turn round and drive
+you back again."
+
+"I won't go."
+
+Mr. Bankes laughed. There was such a sullen meaning in the boy's slow
+utterance.
+
+"Oh! won't you? What'll you do?"
+
+In an instant Bertie had risen from his seat, and if Mr. Bankes had
+not been very quick in putting his arm about him he would have sprung
+out upon the road. As it was, Mr. Bankes, taken by surprise, gave an
+unintentional tug at the left rein, and had he not corrected his error
+with wonderful dexterity Mary Anne would have landed the trap and its
+occupants in a convenient ditch.
+
+"Don't you try that on again," said Mr. Bankes, retaining his hold on
+the lad.
+
+"Don't you say you'll drive me back again."
+
+"Here's a fighting cock. There have been lunatics in the family--I
+know there have. Don't be a little idiot. Sit still."
+
+"Promise you won't drive me back."
+
+"And supposing I won't promise you, what then?"
+
+Bertie's only answer was to give a sudden twist, and before Mr. Bankes
+had realized what he intended he had slipped out of his grasp, and was
+sprawling on the road. Fortunately the trap had been brought to a
+standstill, for had Bertie carried out his original design of
+springing out with Mary Anne going at full speed, the probabilities
+are that he would have brought his adventures to a final termination
+on the spot. Mr. Bankes stared for a moment, and then laughed.
+
+"Well, of all the young ones ever I heard tell of!"
+
+Then, seeing that Bertie had picked himself up, and was preparing to
+escape by scrambling through a quickset hedge into a field of uncut
+hay--
+
+"Stop!" he cried. "I won't take you back. I promise you upon my honour
+I won't. A lad of your kidney's born to be hanged; and if it's hanging
+you've made up your mind to, I'm not the man to stop you."
+
+The lad eyed him doubtfully.
+
+"You promise you'll let me do as I please?"
+
+"I swear it, my bantam cock. You shall do as you please, and go where
+you please. I can't stop mooning here all day; jump in, and let's be
+friends again. I'm square, upon my honour."
+
+The lad resumed his former seat; Mary Anne was once more started.
+
+"Next time you feel it coming on, why, tip me the wink, and I'll pull
+up. It's a pity that a neck like yours should be broken before the
+proper time; and if you were to jump out while Mary Anne was
+travelling like this, why, there'd be nothing left to do but to pick
+up the pieces."
+
+As Bertie vouchsafed no answer, after a pause Mr. Bankes went on.
+
+"Now, Bailey, joking aside, what is the place you're making for?"
+
+"I'm going to London."
+
+"London. Got any friends there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ever been there before?"
+
+"I've been there with father."
+
+"Know anything about it?"
+
+"I don't know much."
+
+"So I should say, by the build of you. I shouldn't be surprised if you
+know more when you come back again--if you ever do come back again, my
+bantam. Shall I tell you what generally happens to boys like you who
+go up to London without knowing much about it, and without any friends
+there? They generally"--Mr. Bankes, as it were, punctuated these
+words, laying an emphasis on each--"go under, and they stop under, and
+there's an end of them."
+
+He paused; if for a reply, in vain, for there was none from Bailey.
+
+"Do you think London's the Land of Golden Dreams? Well, it is; that's
+exactly what it is--it's the Land of Golden Dreams, and the dreams are
+short ones, and when you wake from them you're up to your neck in
+filth, and you wish that you were dead. For they're nothing else but
+dreams, and the reality is dirt, and shame, and want, and misery, and
+death."
+
+Again he paused; and again there was no reply from Bertie. "How much
+money have you got?"
+
+"One and fivepence."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well! well! I say nothing, but I think a lot. And do you mean to tell
+me that you're off to London with the sum of one shilling and
+fivepence in your pocket?"
+
+"You said you ran away with ninepence-halfpenny."
+
+"Well, that's a score! And so I did, but circumstances alter cases,
+and that was the foolishest thing that ever I did."
+
+"You said it was the most sensible thing you'd ever done."
+
+"You've a remarkable memory--a remarkable memory; and if you keep it
+up you'll improve as you go on. If I said that, I was a liar--I was
+the biggest liar that ever lived. I wonder if you could go through the
+sort of thing that I have done?"
+
+Mr. Bankes' eyes were again fixed on Bertie, as though he would take
+his measure.
+
+"Most men would have been dead a dozen times. I don't know that I
+haven't been; I know I've often wished that I could have died just
+once--that I could have been wiped clean out. God save you, young one,
+from such a life as mine. Pray God to pull you up in time."
+
+Another pause and then--
+
+"What's your plans?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"I shouldn't think you did by the look of you. And how long do you
+suppose you're going to live, on the sum of one and fivepence?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Well, I should say that with economy you could manage to live two
+hours--perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less; that's to say, an
+hour before you have your dinner and an hour after. Some could manage
+to stretch it out to tea, but you're not one. And when the money's
+gone how do you suppose you're going to get some more?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Now don't you think that I'd better turn Mary Anne right round, and
+take you back again? You've had a pleasant little drive, you know, and
+the morning air's refreshing."
+
+"I won't go, and you promised that you wouldn't."
+
+"You'll wish you had about this time to-morrow; and perhaps a little
+before. However, a promise is a promise, so on we go. Know where you
+are?"
+
+Bailey did not; Mr. Bankes had turned some sharp corners, and having
+left the highroad behind was guiding Mary Anne along a narrow lane in
+which there was scarcely room for two vehicles to pass abreast.
+
+"These are the Ember lanes. There's East Molesey right ahead, then the
+Thames, then Hampton Court, and then I'll have to leave you. I've come
+round this way to stretch the old girl's legs." This was a graceful
+allusion to Mary Anne. "My shortest cut would have been across Walton
+Bridge, as I'm off to Kempton to see a trial of a horse in which I'm
+interested; so when I get to Hampton Court I'll have to go some of my
+way back again. Now make up your mind. There isn't much time left to
+do it in. Say the word, and I'll take you all the way along with me,
+and land you back just where you started. Take a hint, and think a bit
+before you speak."
+
+Apparently Bertie took the hint, for it was a moment or two before he
+answered.
+
+"I'm not going back."
+
+"Very well. That's the last time of asking, so I wish you joy on your
+journey to the Land of the Golden Dreams."
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XI
+
+                         THE ORIGINAL BADGER
+
+
+As Mr. Bankes spoke, Mary Anne dashed over the little bridge which
+spans the Mole, and in another second they were passing through East
+Molesey. Nothing was said as they raced through the devious village
+street. The world in East Molesey was just beginning to think of
+waking up. A few labourers were visible, on their road to work. When
+they reached the river, some of the watermen were preparing their
+boats, putting them ship-shape for the day, and on Tagg's Island there
+were signs of life.
+
+Over Hampton Court Bridge flew Mary Anne; past the barracks, where
+there were more signs of life, and where Hussars were recommencing the
+slightly monotonous routine of a warrior's life, and then the mare was
+brought to a sudden standstill at the corner of the green.
+
+"The parting of the ways--you go yours, and I go mine, and I rather
+reckon, young one, it won't be long before you wish there'd been no
+parting, and we'd both rolled on together. Which way are you going to
+London?"
+
+"I thought about going through Kingston."
+
+"All right, you can either go through Bushy Park here, or you can go
+Kingston way. But don't let me say a word about the road you go,
+especially as it don't seem to me to matter which it is--round by the
+North Pole and Timbuctoo for all I care, for you're in no sort of
+hurry, and all you want is to get there in the end."
+
+"Can't I get to Kingston by the river?"
+
+"Certainly. You go through the barrack yard there, and through the
+little gate which you'll see over at the end on your right, and you'll
+be on the towing-path. And then you've only got to follow your nose
+and you'll get to Kingston Bridge, and there you are. The nearest is
+by Frog's Walk here, along by the walls, but please yourself."
+
+"I'd sooner go by the river."
+
+"All right."
+
+Mr. Bankes put his hand into his trousers pocket, and when he pulled
+it out it was full of money.
+
+"Look here, it seems that I've had a hand in this little scrape,
+though I'd no more idea you'd swallow every word of what I said than I
+had of flying. You're about as fine a bunch of greens as ever I
+encountered, and that's the truth. But, anyhow, I had a hand, and as
+I'm a partner in the spree I'm not going to sort you all the kicks and
+collar all the halfpence. And I tell you"--Mr. Bankes raised his voice
+to a very loud key, as though Bailey was arguing the point instead of
+sitting perfectly still--"I tell you that for a boy like you to cut
+and run with the sum of one and fivepence in his pocket is a thing I'm
+not going to stand. No, not on any account, so hold out your hand, you
+leather-headed noodle, and pocket this."
+
+Bertie held out his hand, Mr. Bankes counted into it five separate
+sovereigns.
+
+"Now sling your hook!"
+
+Before Bertie had a chance to thank him, or even to realize the sudden
+windfall he had encountered, Mr. Bankes had caught hold of him, lifted
+him bodily from his seat, and placed him on the road. Mary Anne had
+started, and the trap was flying past the Cardinal Wolsey, on the
+Hampton Road. Left standing there, with the five sovereigns tightly
+grasped in his palm, Bailey decided that Mr. Bankes had rather a
+sudden way of doing things.
+
+He remained motionless a minute watching the receding trap. Perhaps he
+expected, perhaps he hoped, that Mr. Bankes would look round and wave
+him a parting greeting; but there was nothing of the kind. In a very
+short space of time the trap was out of sight and he was left alone.
+Just for that instant, just for that first moment, in which he
+realized his solitude, he regretted that he had not acted on his late
+companion's advice, and pursued the journey with Mary Anne. Then he
+looked at the five pounds he held in his hand.
+
+"Well, here's a go!"
+
+He could scarcely believe his eyes. He took up each of the coins
+separately and examined it. Then he placed them in a low on his
+extended palm, and stared. Their radiance dazzled him.
+
+"Catch me going back while I've got all this, I should rather like
+somebody to see me at it. Five pounds!" Here was a long-drawn
+respiration. "Fancy him tipping me five pounds! I call that something
+like a tip. Won't I spend it! Just fancy having five pounds to spend
+on what you like! Well, I never did!"
+
+"Hallo, you boy, got anything nice to look at?"
+
+Bertie turned. A soldier, in a considerable state of undress, was
+standing a few yards behind him, watching his proceedings.
+
+"What's that to you?" asked Bertie.
+
+He put both his hands into his trousers pockets, keeping tight hold on
+the precious sovereigns, and turning, walked up the barrack yard. As
+he passed, the soldier grinned; but Bertie condescended to pay no
+heed.
+
+"If I'd had a fortune left to me, I'd stand a man a drink, if it was
+only the price of half a pint."
+
+This was what the soldier shouted after Bertie. One or two of the
+troopers who were engaged in various ways, and who were all more or
+less undressed, looking very different from the dashing pictures of
+military splendour which they would shortly present upon parade,
+stared at the boy as he went by, but no one spoke to him.
+
+Once on the towing-path, he turned his face Kingston-wards and
+hastened on. These five sovereigns burnt a hole in his pocket. When
+his capital had been represented by the sum of one and fivepence he
+had been dimly conscious that it would be necessary to be careful in
+his outlay. He had even outlined a system of expenditure. But five
+pounds!
+
+They represented boundless wealth. He had been once presented by a
+grateful patient of his father's with a tip of half a sovereign. That
+was the largest sum of which he had ever been in possession at one and
+the same time, and no sooner had the donor's back been turned than his
+mother had confiscated five shillings of that. She declared that it
+was intended the half-sovereign should be divided among his brothers
+and sisters, and the five shillings went in the division. But five
+pounds! What were five shillings, or even half a sovereign, to five
+pounds.
+
+If Mr. George Washington Bankes had desired to dissipate whatever
+effect his words of warning might have had he could not have chosen a
+surer method. As the possessor of five pounds, Bertie's belief in the
+land of golden dreams was stronger than ever. The pieces of golden
+money had as good as transported him thither upon the spot.
+
+His spirits rose to boiling-pitch as he walked beside the river. The
+sunshine flooded all the world, and danced upon the glancing waters,
+and filled his heart with joy. As he looked up, the words, "five
+pounds," seemed streaming in radiant golden letters across the sunlit
+sky.
+
+Nearly opposite Ditton church he sat down on the grass to revel in his
+fancies. The castles which he built, the schemes he schemed, the
+future he foretold! No one passing by, and seeing a boy with an
+apparently sullen face, sprawling on the grass, would have had the
+least conception of the world of imagination in which, at that moment,
+he lived and moved, and had his being.
+
+He lay there perhaps more than an hour. He might have lain there even
+longer had not two things recalled him to the world of fact. The first
+was a growing consciousness that he was hungry; and the other, the
+crossing of the ferry. The Ditton ferry-boat made its first
+appearance, with two or three young fellows who had seemingly made the
+passage with a view of enjoying an early morning bathe on the more
+secluded Middlesex side. When they got out, Bertie got in. Not that he
+wanted to go to Ditton, nor that he even knew the name of the place
+which he saw upon the other side of the water, but that he fancied the
+row across the stream. When he was in the boat a thought struck him.
+
+"How much will you row me to Kingston for?"
+
+"I can't take you in this boat, this here's the ferry-boat; but I can
+let you have a boat the other side, and a chap to row you, and I'll
+take you for--do you want to go there and back?"
+
+"No; I want to stop at Kingston."
+
+"Are you going to the fair there? I hear there's to be a fine fair
+this time, and a circus, and all."
+
+Bertie had neither heard of the fair nor of the circus; but the idea
+was tempting.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if I did go. How much will you row me for?"
+
+The ferryman hesitated. He was probably debating within himself as to
+the capacity of the young gentleman's pockets, and also not improbably
+as to his capacity for being bled.
+
+"I'll row you there for five shillings."
+
+But Bertie was not quite so verdant as he looked.
+
+"I'll give you eighteenpence."
+
+"Well, you're a cool hand, you are, to offer a man eighteenpence for
+what he wants five shillings for. But I don't want to be hard upon a
+young gentleman what is a young gentleman. I'll row you there for
+four; a man's got to live, you know, and it isn't as though you wanted
+a boat to row yourself."
+
+But Bertie was unable to see his way to paying four. Finally a bargain
+was struck for half a crown. Then a difficulty occurred as to change,
+and Bertie entrusted one of his precious sovereigns to the ferryman to
+get changed at the Swan. Then a boat was launched, a lad not very much
+older than Bertie was placed in charge, the fare was paid in advance,
+and a start was made for Kingston.
+
+By the time they reached that ancient town, Bertie was hungry in
+earnest. The walk, the drive, and now the row in the freshness of the
+early morning had combined to give him an appetite which, at
+Mecklemburg House, would have been regarded with considerable
+disapproval. Now, too, the short commons of the day before were
+remembered; and as Bertie fingered the money in his pockets he thought
+with no slight satisfaction of the good things in the eating and
+drinking line which it would buy.
+
+He was landed at his own request on the Middlesex side of Kingston
+Bridge, and having generously made the lad who had rowed him richer by
+the sum of sixpence, he started, with renewed vigour, to cross the
+bridge into the town. No sooner had he crossed than a coffee-shop met
+his eye. It was the very thing he wanted. With the air of a capitalist
+he entered and ordered a sumptuous repast--coffee, bread and butter,
+ham and eggs. Having made a hearty meal,--and a hearty meal was a
+subject on which he had ideas of his own, for he followed up the ham
+and eggs with half a dozen open tarts and a jam puff or two, buying
+half a pound of sweets to eat when he got outside,--he paid the bill
+and sallied forth.
+
+It was cattle-market day, and unusual business seemed to be doing. Not
+only was the market-place crowded with live stock, but they overflowed
+into the neighbouring streets. For the present, Bertie was content to
+watch the proceedings. In the position of a capitalist he could travel
+to London in state and at his leisure. Just now his mind was running
+on what the ferryman had said about the circus and the fair. He could
+go to London at any time. It was not a place which was likely to run
+away. But circuses and fairs were things which were quick to go, and
+once gone were gone for ever. Bertie resolved that he would commence
+his journey by seeing both the circus and the fair.
+
+Nor was his resolution weakened by a joyous procession which passed
+through the Kingston street.
+
+"BADGER'S ROYAL POPULAR COSMOPOLITAN AND WORLD-FAMED HIPPODROME" was
+an imposing title for a circus, but not more imposing than the glories
+revealed by that procession.
+
+"_Supported by all the greatest artists in the world chosen from all
+the nations of the universe_" was the continuation of the title, and,
+judging from the astonishing variety of ladies and gentlemen who rode
+the horses, who bestrode the camels, who crowded the triumphal cars,
+and who ran along on foot distributing handbills among the crowd, it
+really seemed that the statement was justified by fact. There were
+Chinamen whose pigtails seemed quite real; there were gentlemen of
+colour who seemed warranted to wash; there were individuals with
+beards and moustaches of an altogether foreign character; and there
+were ladies of the most wondrous and enchanting beauty, dressed in the
+most picturesque and amazing styles. Bertie Bailey, at any rate, was
+persuaded that it would be absurd for him to think of going on to town
+till he had attended at least one performance of Badger's Royal
+Popular Cosmopolitan and World-famed Hippodrome.
+
+He followed the procession to the fair field. And there, although it
+was not yet noon, the fair was already in full swing. All those
+immortal entertainments without which a fair would not be a fair were
+liberally provided. There were shows, and shooting galleries, and
+bottle-throwing establishments, and seas upon land, and resplendent
+roundabouts, and stalls at which were vended goods of the very best
+quality; and all those joys and raptures which go to make a fair in
+every part of the world in which fairs are known.
+
+But Bertie cared for none of these things. All his soul was fixed upon
+the circus. He attended the performance. As befitted a young gentleman
+of fortune he occupied a front seat, price two shillings. A
+hypercritical spectator might have suggested that the procession had
+been the best part of the show. But this was not the case in Bertie's
+eyes. He was enraptured with the feats of skill and daring which he
+witnessed in the ring. Only one consideration marred his complete
+enjoyment. Unfortunately he could not make up his mind whether he
+would rather be the gentleman who, disdaining all ordinary modes of
+horsemanship, standing upon the backs of two cream-coloured steeds,
+with streaming tails, dashed round the ring; or the clown whose
+business it was--a business which he seemed to think a pleasure--to
+keep the audience in a roar. He was not so much struck by a gentleman
+who performed marvels on a flying trapeze; nor by the surefootedness
+of a lady who walked upon an "invisible wire,"--which was, in this
+case, a rope about the thickness of Bertie's wrist.
+
+But he quite made up his mind that he would be either the clown or the
+rider; and that, when he had determined which of these honourable
+positions he would prefer to fill, he would lose no time in laying
+siege to one of the ladies of the establishment, and to beg her to be
+his. But here the same difficulty occurred;--he was not quite certain
+which. However, by the time the performance was over, and the audience
+was dismissed, on one point he was assured, he would enlist under the
+banners of the world-famed Badger. Dick Turpin, Robin Hood, Robinson
+Crusoe, Jack the Giant Killer, might do for some folks, but a circus
+was the place for him.
+
+When he regained the open air, and had bidden an unwilling adieu to
+the sawdust glories, the afternoon was pretty well advanced and the
+fair was more crowded than ever. But Bertie could not tear himself
+away from Badger's. He hung about the exterior of the tent as though
+the neighbourhood was holy ground.
+
+Several other loiterers lingered too; and among them were four or five
+men who did not look, to put it gently, as though they belonged to
+what are called the upper classes.
+
+"I've half a mind," said Bertie to himself, "to go inside the tent,
+and ask Mr. Badger if he wants a boy. But perhaps he wouldn't like to
+be troubled when there's no performance on."
+
+Bertie's ideas on circus management were rudimentary. Mr. Badger would
+perhaps have looked a little blue to find himself met with such a
+request if there had been a performance on.
+
+"What do you think of the circus?"
+
+The question was put by one of the individuals before referred to. He
+had apparently given his companions the slip, for they stood a little
+distance off, ostentatiously paying no attention to his proceedings.
+He was a short man, inclined to stoutness, and Bertie thought he had
+the reddest face he had ever seen.
+
+"It's not a bad show, is it? And more it didn't ought to be, for the
+amount of money it cost me to put that show together no one wouldn't
+believe."
+
+Bertie stared. It dimly occurred to him that it must have cost him all
+the money he possessed and so left him nothing to throw away upon his
+clothing, for his costume was distinctly shabby. But the stout man
+went on affably:--
+
+"I saw you looking round, so I thought as perhaps you took a interest
+in these here kind of things. Perhaps you don't know who I am?"
+
+Bertie didn't and said so.
+
+"I'm Badger, the Original Badger. I may say the only Badger as was
+ever known,--for all them other Badgers belongs to another branch of
+the family."
+
+The Original Badger put his hand to his neck, apparently with the
+intention of pulling up his shirt collar, which, however, wasn't
+there. Bertie stared still more. The stout man did not by any means
+come up to the ideas he had formed of the world-famed Badger.
+
+"You're not the Mr. Badger to whom the circus belongs."
+
+"Ain't I! But I ham, I just ham." The Original Badger's enunciation of
+the letter was more emphatic than correct.
+
+"And I should like to see the man who says I hain't! I'd fight that
+man either for beer or money either now or any other time, and I
+shouldn't care if he was twenty stone. Now look 'ere"--the Original
+Badger gave Bertie so hearty a slap upon the back that that young
+gentleman tottered--"What I say is this. I wants a well-built young
+fellow about your age to learn the riding, and to train for clown, and
+I wants that young feller to make his first appearance this day three
+weeks. Now what do you say to being that young feller?"
+
+"I don't think I could learn it in three weeks," was all Bertie could
+manage to stammer.
+
+"Oh couldn't you? I know better. Now, look 'ere, I'm going to pay that
+young feller five and twenty pound a week, and find him in his
+clothing. What do you say to that?"
+
+Bertie would have liked to say a good deal, if he could have only
+found the words to say it with. Among other things he would probably
+have liked to have said that he hoped the clothing which was to
+accompany the five and twenty pounds a week would be of a different
+sort to that worn by the Original Badger. It would have been a
+hazardous experiment to have offered five and twenty pence for the
+stout man's costume.
+
+"Now, look 'ere, there's a house I know close by where you and me can
+be alone, and we can talk it over. You're just the sort of young
+feller I've been looking for. Now come along with me and I'll make
+your fortune for you,--you see if I don't."
+
+Before Bertie quite knew what was happening, the stout man had slipped
+his arm through his, and was hurrying him through the fair, away from
+it, and down some narrow streets which were not of the most
+aristocratic appearance. All the time he kept pouring out such a
+stream of words that the lad was given no chance to remonstrate, even
+if he had had presence of mind enough to do it with. But,
+metaphorically, the Original Badger--to use an expression in vulgar
+phrase--had knocked him silly.
+
+What exactly happened Bertie never could remember. The Original Badger
+led him to a very doubtful looking public-house, and, before he knew
+it, the lad was through the door. They did not go into the public bar,
+but into a little room beyond. They had scarcely entered when they
+were joined by three or four more shabby individuals, whom the
+Original Badger greeted as his friends. If Bertie had looked behind he
+would have perceived these gentry following close upon his heels all
+the time.
+
+"This young gentleman's going to stand something to drink. Now, 'Enery
+William, gin cold."
+
+The order was given by the Original Badger to a shrivelled-up
+individual without a coat who seemed to act as pot-boy. When this
+person disappeared, and Bertie was left alone with the Original Badger
+and his friends, he by no means liked the situation. A more unpleasant
+looking set of vagabonds could with difficulty be found; and he felt
+that if these were the sort of gentry who had to do with circuses a
+circus was not the place for him.
+
+The pot-boy re-appeared with a bottle of water, and a tray of glasses
+containing gin.
+
+"Two shillings," said the pot-boy.
+
+"All right; the gentleman pays."
+
+"Pay in advance," said the pot-boy.
+
+"Two shillings, captain!"
+
+The Original Badger gave Bertie another of his hearty slaps upon the
+back. Bertie felt they were too hearty by half. However, he produced a
+florin, with which the pot-boy disappeared, leaving the glasses on the
+table.
+
+"I'm going," he said, directly that functionary was gone.
+
+"What, before you've drunk your liquor? You'll never do for a circus,
+you won't." Bertie felt he wouldn't. "Why, I've got all that business
+to talk over with you. I'm going to engage this young feller in my
+circus to do the clowning and the riding for five and twenty pound a
+week."
+
+The Original Badger cast what was suspiciously like a wink in the
+direction of his friends. One of these friends handed the glasses
+round. He lingered a moment with the glass he gave to Bertie before he
+filled it half-way up with water, then he held it towards the boy. He
+was a tall, sallow-looking ruffian, with ragged whiskers; the sort of
+man one would very unwillingly encounter on a lonely road at night.
+
+"Drink that up," he said; "that's the sort of thing for circus
+riders."
+
+"I don't want to drink the stuff," said Bertie. "Drink it up, you
+fool!"
+
+The lad hesitated a moment, then emptied the glass at a draught. What
+happened afterwards he never could describe; for it seemed to him that
+no sooner had he drunk the contents than he fell asleep; and as he
+sank into slumber he seemed to hear the sound of laughter ringing in
+his ears.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XII
+
+                            A "DOSS" HOUSE
+
+
+When he woke it was dark. He did not know where he was. He opened his
+eyes, which were curiously heavy, and thought he was in a dream. He
+shut them again, and vainly wondered if he were back at Mecklemburg
+House or in his home at Upton. He half expected to hear familiar
+voices. Suddenly there was a crash of instruments; he started up,
+supporting himself upon his arm, and listened listlessly, still not
+quite sure he was not dreaming. It was the crash of the circus band;
+they were playing "God Save the Queen."
+
+Something like consciousness returned. He began to understand his
+whereabouts. A cool breeze was blowing across his face; he was in the
+open air; behind him there was a canvas flapping. It was a tent.
+Around him were discords of every kind. It was night; the fair was in
+all its glory. He was lying in the fair field.
+
+"Hallo, chappie! coming round again?"
+
+Some one spoke. Looking up, peering through his heavy eyes, he
+perceived that a lean, ragged figure was leaning over him.
+Sufficiently roused to dislike further companionship with the Original
+Badger and his friends, he dragged himself to a sitting posture. The
+stranger was a lad, not much, if any, older than himself, some
+ragamuffin of the streets.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Bertie.
+
+"Never mind who I am. I've had my eyes on you this ever so long. Ain't
+you been a-going it neither. I thought that you was dead. Was it----?"
+
+He gave a suggestive gesture with his hand, as though he emptied a
+glass into his mouth. Bertie struggled to his feet.
+
+"I--I don't feel quite well."
+
+"You don't look it neither. Whatever have you been doing of?"
+
+Bertie tried to think. He would like to have left his new
+acquaintance. The Original Badger and his friends had been quite
+enough for him, but his legs refused their office, and he was perforce
+compelled to content himself with standing still. He did not feel
+quite such a hero as he had done before.
+
+"Have you lost anything?"
+
+The chance question brought Bertie back to recollection. He put his
+hand into his trousers pockets--they were empty. Bewildered, he felt
+in the pockets of his waistcoat and of his jacket--they were empty,
+too! Some one had relieved him of everything he possessed, down to his
+clasp knife and pocket handkerchief. Willie Seymour's one and
+fivepence, and Mr. Bankes' five pounds, both alike were gone!
+
+"I've been robbed," he said.
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised but what you had. What do you think is going
+to happen to you if you lies for ever so many hours in the middle of
+the fair field as if you was dead? How much have you lost?"
+
+"Five pounds."
+
+"Five pounds!--crikey, if you ain't a pretty cove! Are you a-gammoning
+me?"
+
+Bertie looked at the lad. A thought struck him. He put out his hand
+and took him by the shoulder.
+
+"You've robbed me," he said.
+
+"You leave me alone! who are you touching of? If you don't leave me
+alone, I'll make you smart."
+
+"You try it on," said Bertie.
+
+The other tried it on, and with such remarkable celerity, that before
+he had realized what had happened, Bertie Bailey lay down flat. The
+stranger showed such science that, in his present half comatose
+condition, Bailey went down like a log.
+
+"You wouldn't have done that if I'd been all right; and I do believe
+you've robbed me."
+
+"Believe away! I ain't, so there! I ain't so much as seen the colour
+of your money, and I don't know nothing at all about it. The first I
+see of you was about five o'clock. You was a-lying just where you are
+now, and I've come and had a look at you a dozen times since. Why, it
+must be ten o'clock, for the circus is out, and you ain't woke up only
+just this minute. How came you to be lying there?"
+
+"I don't know. I've been robbed, and that's quite enough for me,--my
+head is aching fit to split."
+
+"Haven't you got any money left?"
+
+"No, I haven't."
+
+"Where's your home?"
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"Well, it ain't much to me, but I should think it's a good deal to
+you. If I was you I'd go home."
+
+"Well, you're not me, so I won't."
+
+"All right, matey, it ain't no odds to me. If you likes lying there
+till the perlice come and walks you off, it's all the same to me so
+far as I'm concerned."
+
+"I've got no money; I've been robbed."
+
+"I tell you what I'll do, I ain't a rich chap, not by no manner of
+means, and I never had five pounds to lose, but I've had a stroke of
+luck in my small way, and if you really haven't got no home, nor yet
+no coin, I don't mind standing in for a bed so far as four pence
+goes."
+
+"I don't know what you mean; leave me alone. I've got no money; I've
+been robbed."
+
+"So you have, chummy, and that's a fact; so you pick yourself up and
+toddle along with me; there ain't no fear of your being robbed again
+if you've nothing to lose."
+
+Bertie half resisted the stranger's endeavour to assist him in finding
+his feet, but the other managed so dexterously that Bertie found
+himself accompanying his new friend with a fair amount of willingness.
+The fair was still at its height; the swings were fuller; the
+roundabout was driving a roaring trade; the sportsmen in the shooting
+gallery were popping away; but all these glories had lost their charm
+for Bertie. It seemed to him that it was all a hideous nightmare, from
+which he vainly struggled to shake himself free.
+
+Had it not been for occasional assistance, he would more than once
+have lost his footing. Something ailed him, but what, he was at a loss
+to understand. All the hopes, and vigour, and high spirits of the
+morning had disappeared, and with them all his dreams had vanished
+too. He was the most miserable young gentleman in Kingston Fair.
+
+He kept up an under current of grumbling all the way, now and then
+making feeble efforts to rid himself of his companion; but the
+stranger was too wide awake for Bertie to shake him off. Had he been
+better acquainted with the town, and in a fit state to realize his
+knowledge, he would have been aware that his companion was leading
+him, by a series of short cuts, in the direction of the apple-market.
+He paused before a tumbledown old house, over the door of which a lamp
+was burning. Bertie shrunk away, with some dim recollection of the
+establishment into which he had been enticed by the Original Badger
+and his friends. At sight of his unwillingness the other only laughed.
+
+"What are you afraid of? This ain't a place in which they'd rob you,
+even if you'd got anything worth robbing, which it seems to me you
+ain't. This is a doss-house, this is."
+
+So saying he entered the house, the door of which seemed to stand
+permanently open. The somewhat reluctant Bertie entered with him. No
+one appearing to receive them, the stranger lost no time in informing
+the inmates of their arrival.
+
+"Here, Mr. Jenkins, or Mrs. Jenkins, or some one, can I come up?"
+
+In answer to this appeal, a stout lady appeared at the head of a
+flight of stairs, which rose almost from the threshold of the door.
+Hall there was none. She was not a very cleanly-looking lady, nor had
+she the softest of voices.
+
+"Is that you, Sam Slater? Who's that you've got with you?"
+
+"A friend of mine, and that's enough for you."
+
+With this brief response, the stranger, whose name appeared to be Sam
+Slater, led the way up the flight of stairs.
+
+"Anybody here?" he asked, when he reached the landing.
+
+"Not at present there ain't; I expect they're all at the fair."
+
+"All the better," said Sam.
+
+He followed the lady through a door which faced the landing, pausing
+for a moment to see that Bertie followed too. Something in Bertie's
+appearance struck the lady's eye.
+
+"What's the matter with your friend,--ain't he well?" she asked.
+
+"Well, he's not exactly well," responded Sam, favouring Bertie with a
+curious glance from the corner of his eye.
+
+A man who was seated by a roaring fire, although the night was warm
+and bright, got up and joined the party. He was in his shirt-sleeves,
+and he also was stout, and he puffed industriously at a short black
+clay pipe. He stood in front of Bertie, and inspected him from head to
+foot.
+
+"He don't look exactly well, not by any means he don't."
+
+The stout man grinned. Bertie staggered. The sudden change from the
+sweet, fresh air to the hot, close room gave him a sudden qualm. If
+the stout man had not caught him he would have fallen to the floor.
+
+"Steady! Where do you think you're coming to? You're a nice young
+chap, you are! If I was you I'd turn teetotal."
+
+Sam Slater interfered.
+
+"You don't know anything at all about it; he's not been drinking; he's
+been got at, and some one's cleared him of his cash."
+
+"You leave him to me, Jenkins," said the stout lady.
+
+For Bertie had swooned. As easily as though he had been a baby,
+instead of being the great lad that he was, she lifted him and carried
+him to another room. When he opened his eyes again he found that he
+was lying on a brilliantly counterpaned bed. Sam was seated on the
+edge, the lady was standing by the side, and Mr. Jenkins, a steaming
+tumbler in his hand, was leaning over the rail at his head.
+
+"Better?" inquired the lady, perceiving that his eyes were open.
+
+For answer Bertie sat up and looked about him. It was a little room,
+smaller than the other, and cooler, owing to the absence of a fire.
+
+"Take a swig of this; that'll do you good."
+
+Mr. Jenkins held the steaming tumbler towards him. Bertie shrank away.
+
+"It's only peppermint, made with my own hands, so I can guarantee it's
+good. A barrel of it wouldn't do you harm. Drink up, sonny!"
+
+Thus urged by the lady, he took the glass and drank. It certainly
+revived him, making him feel less dull and heavy; but a curious sense
+of excitement came instead. In the state in which he was even
+peppermint had a tendency to fly to his head. Perceiving his altered
+looks the lady went on,--
+
+"Didn't I tell you it would do you good? Now you feel another man."
+
+Then she continued, in a tone which Bertie, if he had the senses about
+him, would have called wheedling--
+
+"Anybody can see that you're a gentleman, and not used to such a place
+as this. You are a little gentleman, ain't you now?"
+
+Bertie took another drink before he replied. The steaming hot
+peppermint was restoring him to his former heroic state of mind.
+
+"I should think I am a gentleman; I should like to see anybody say I
+wasn't."
+
+Either this remark, or the manner of its delivery, made Mr. Jenkins
+laugh.
+
+"Oh lor!" he said, "here's a three-foot-sixer!"
+
+"Never mind him, my dear," observed the lady, "he knows no better. I
+knows a gentleman when I sees one, and directly I set eyes on you I
+says, 'he's a gentleman he is.' And did they rob you of your money?"
+
+"Some one's robbed me of five pounds."
+
+This was not said in quite such a heroic tone as the former remark.
+The memory of that five pounds haunted him.
+
+"Poor, dear, young gentleman, think of that now. And was the money
+your own, my dear?"
+
+"Whose do you think it was? Do you think I stole it?"
+
+Under the influence of the peppermint, or harassed by the memory of
+his loss, Bertie positively scowled at the lady.
+
+"Dear no, young gentlemen never steals. Five pounds! and all his own;
+and lost it too! What thieves this world has got! Dear, dear, now."
+
+The lady paused, possibly overcome by her sympathy with the lad's
+misfortune. Behind his back she interchanged a glance with Mr.
+Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins, apparently wishing to say something, but not
+being able to find the words to say it with, put his hand to his mouth
+and coughed. Sam Slater stared at Bertie with a look of undisguised
+contempt.
+
+"You must be a green hand to let 'em turn you inside out like that. If
+I had five pounds--which I ain't never likely to have! more's the
+pity--I'd look 'em up and down just once or twice before I'd let 'em
+walk off with it like that. I wonder if your mother knows you're out."
+
+"My mother doesn't know anything at all about it; I've run away from
+school."
+
+Under ordinary circumstances Bertie would have confined that fact
+within his own bosom; now, with some vague idea of impressing his
+dignity upon the contemptuous Sam, he blurted it out. Directly the
+words were spoken a significant look passed from each of his hearers
+to the other.
+
+"Dear, now," said the lady. "Run away from school, have you now?
+There's a brave young gentleman; and that there Sam knows nothing at
+all about it. It's more than he dare do."
+
+"Never had a school to run away from," murmured Sam.
+
+"Did they use you very bad, my dear?"
+
+"It wasn't because of that; I wouldn't have minded how they used me. I
+ran away because I wanted to find the Land of Golden Dreams."
+
+Mr. Jenkins put his hand to his mouth as if to choke what sounded very
+like a laugh; Sam stared with a look of the most profound amazement on
+his face; a faint smile even flitted across the lady's face.
+
+"The Land of Golden Dreams," said Sam. "Never heard tell of such a
+place."
+
+"You never heard tell of nothing," declared the lady. "You ain't a
+scholar like this young gentleman. And what's the name of the school,
+my dear?"
+
+"Mecklemburg House Collegiate School."
+
+Bertie informed them of the name and title of Mr. Fletcher's
+educational establishment with what he intended to be his grandest
+air, with a possible intention of impressing them with its splendour.
+
+"There's a mouthful," commented Sam. "Oh my eye!"
+
+The lady's reception of Bertie's information was more courteous.
+
+"There's a beautiful name for a school. And where might it be?"
+
+"It's not very far from Cobham. But I don't live there."
+
+"No, my dear. And where do you live, my lovey?"
+
+The lady became more affectionate in her titles of endearment as she
+went on. Mr. Jenkins, leaning over the head of the bed, listened with
+all his ears; but on his countenance was a delighted grin.
+
+"I live at Upton."
+
+"Upton," said the lady, and glanced at Mr. Jenkins behind the bed. Mr.
+Jenkins winked at her.
+
+"My father's a doctor; he keeps two horses and a carriage; everybody
+knows him there; he's the best doctor in the place."
+
+"And is your mother alive, my dear?"
+
+"I should rather think she was, and won't she go it when she knows
+I've run away!"
+
+"Dear now, think of that! I shouldn't be surprised if she was very
+fond of you, my dear. And I daresay, now, she'd give a deal of money
+to any one who told her where you were."
+
+"I should think she would. I daresay she'd give--I daresay she'd
+give----" he searched his imagination for the largest sum of which he
+could think; he desired to impress his audience with an idea of the
+family importance and wealth. "I daresay she'd give a thousand
+pounds." His hearers stared. "But she's not likely to know, for
+there's no one to tell her."
+
+This statement seemed to tickle Mr. Jenkins and Sam so much, that with
+one accord they burst into a roar of laughter. Bertie glowered.
+
+"Never mind them, my lovey; it's their bad manners, they don't know no
+better. I'll soon send them away. Now, out you go, going on with your
+ridiculous nonsense, and he such a brave young gentleman; I'm ashamed
+of you;--get away, the two of you."
+
+Mr. Jenkins and Sam obediently went, stifling their laughter on the
+way. But apparently when they were outside they gave free vent to
+their sense of humour, for their peals of mirth came through the door.
+
+"Never mind them, my dear; you undress yourself and get into bed, and
+have a nice long sleep, and be sure you have a friend in me. My name's
+Jenkins, lovey, Eliza Jenkins, and that there silly man's my husband.
+By the way, you haven't told me what your name is, my dear."
+
+"My name's Bailey, Bertie Bailey."
+
+"Dear now, and you're the son of the famous Dr. Bailey of Upton. Think
+of that now."
+
+She left him to think of it, for immediately after Mrs. Jenkins
+followed her husband and Sam. Bertie, left alone, hesitated for a
+moment or two as to what he should do. He tried to think, but thought
+was just then an exercise beyond his powers. The events of the last
+few hours were presented in a sort of kaleidoscopic picture to his
+mind's eye. There was nothing clear. He found a difficulty in
+realizing where he was. As he looked round the unfamiliar room, with
+its scanty furniture, and that of the poorest and most tawdry class,
+he found it difficult not to persuade himself that he saw it in a
+dream.
+
+All the events of the day seemed to have been the incidents of a
+dream. Mecklemburg House seemed to be a house he had seen in a dream.
+He seemed to have left it in a dream. That walk along the moonlit road
+had been a walk in a dream. He had driven with Mr. George Washington
+Bankes in a dream. He had possessed five pounds in a dream; had lost
+it in a dream; had been to the circus in a dream; the Original Badger
+and his friends were the characters seen in a dream--a dream which had
+been the long nightmare of a day.
+
+One thing was certain, he was sleepy; on that point he was clear. He
+could hardly keep his eyes open, and his head from sinking on his
+breast. As in a dream he lazily undressed; as in a dream he got into
+the bed; and once into the bed he was almost instantly wrapped in a
+sound and dreamless slumber.
+
+He was awoke by the sound of voices. It seemed to him that he had only
+slept five minutes, but it was broad daylight; the sun was shining
+into the room, and, almost immediately after he opened his eyes, the
+clock of Kingston church struck twelve. It was high noon.
+
+But he was not yet fully roused. He lay in that delicious state of
+languor which is neither sleep nor waking. The owners of the voices
+were evidently not aware that he was even partially awakened. They
+went on talking with perfect absence of restraint, entirely
+unsuspicious of there being any listener near. The speakers were Mr.
+and Mrs. Jenkins.
+
+"It's all nonsense about the thousand pounds; a thousand pence will be
+nearer the thing; but even a thousand pence is not very far off a
+five-pound note, and a five-pound note's worth having."
+
+Mr. Jenkins ceased, and Mrs. Jenkins took up the strain. Bertie, lying
+in his delightful torpor, heard it all; though he was not at first
+conscious that he was himself the theme of his host and hostess's
+conversation.
+
+"He says his father keeps two horses and a carriage; he must be tidy
+off. If his mother's fond of him, she wouldn't mind paying liberal to
+hear his whereabouts. If you goes down and tells her how you took him
+in without a penny in his pockets, not so much as fourpence to pay for
+his bed--which it's against our rule to take in anybody who doesn't
+pay his money in advance--and how he was ill and all, there's no
+knowing but what she wouldn't pay you handsome for putting her on his
+track and all."
+
+"It's worth trying anyhow. Dr. Bailey, you say, is the name?"
+
+"He says his own name is Bertie Bailey, and his father's name is Dr.
+Bailey."
+
+Bertie pricked up his ears at the sound of his name, and began to
+wonder.
+
+"And his home is Upton? There don't seem no railway at this here
+Upton. Slough seems the nearest station, because I asked them at the
+booking office, and there's a tidy bit to walk."
+
+"Don't you walk it. You take a cab and drive. Make out as how there
+wasn't no time to lose, and as how you thought the mother's heart was
+a longing for her son. Do the thing in style. If there don't nothing
+else come of it they'll have to pay your expenses handsome."
+
+"I'm not going all that way for my expenses, so I'll let them know!
+They'll have to make it worth my while before I tell them where to lay
+their finger on the kid."
+
+Bertie wondered more and more. He still lay motionless, but by now he
+was wide awake. It dawned upon him what was the meaning of the
+conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were apparently about to take
+advantage of his incautious frankness to betray him for the sake of a
+reward. He had a dim recollection of having blurted out more than he
+intended; and, on the strength of the information he had thus
+obtained, Mr. Jenkins was going to pay a little visit to his home.
+
+"Don't you be afraid," went on the lady, "I tell you they'll pay up
+handsome. You and me, perhaps, wouldn't make much fuss if one of our
+young 'uns was to cut and run, but gentlefolks is different. It isn't
+likely that a lady can like the thought of a boy of hers knocking
+about in the gutter, and trying his luck in the ditch. Just you put
+your hat on, and you go straight to this here Upton, and you see if it
+isn't the best day's work you've ever done. I'll go fast enough, if
+you've not started soon."
+
+Mr. Jenkins did not seem to like this idea at all; his tone was a
+little sulky.
+
+"You needn't put yourself out, Eliza; I'm a-going."
+
+"Then why don't you go, instead of standing wool gathering there?"
+
+"You don't know his address. What am I to ask for when I get to this
+here Upton?"
+
+"Why, ask for Dr. Bailey; it's only a little place. You'll find he's
+as well known as the church clock, and perhaps better."
+
+"And about the boy; what are you going to do when he wakes up?"
+
+"I'll look after him. Don't you trouble your head about the boy;
+you'll find him here when you come back as safe as houses."
+
+"All right, Eliza, I'm off; and by to-night, I shouldn't be surprised
+if Master Bertie Bailey, Esquire, was returned to his fond parent's
+arms."
+
+His tone was jocular; but the expression of his countenance was not
+exactly genial when Master Bertie Bailey sat up in bed, as he did at
+this identical moment, and looked his host and hostess in the face.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIII
+
+                          IN PETERSHAM PARK
+
+
+Bertie looked at Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins looked
+at him, and husband and wife looked at one another.
+
+"And have you had a nice sleep, my dear?"
+
+Bertie vouchsafed no reply to the lady's question, continuing to look
+at her with his characteristically dogged look in his eyes.
+
+"And how long have you been awake, my dear? Have you only just now
+woke?"
+
+Bertie threw the clothes from off him, and turned to Mr. Jenkins.
+
+"I won't go home, even if you do go and tell my mother, you old
+sneak!"
+
+This uncomplimentary epithet was applied to Mr. Jenkins with such
+sullen ferocity, that that gentleman started and looked even more
+discomfited than he had done before. Bertie got out of bed and stood
+upon the floor.
+
+"Give me my clothes, and let me go; you've no right to keep me here."
+
+Mr. Jenkins was apparently speechless, but his quicker-witted wife was
+voluble enough.
+
+"Certainly, my dear. No one wants to keep you, lovey. You pay us what
+you owe and you're as free as the air!"
+
+"I don't owe you anything."
+
+"Not anything for a young gentleman like you; it's only six shillings,
+my dear."
+
+"Six shillings!"
+
+"Yes, six shillings. Would you like your bill, my dear? Jenkins, go
+and get the young gentleman his bill."
+
+"You're a lot of thieves!"
+
+"Oh, thieves are we? Very well, if you like to think us so, my dear.
+But I shouldn't have thought that a young gentleman like you would
+have liked to rob poor people of the money he owes for his board and
+lodging. And if you talk about thieves, my dear, Jenkins will go for a
+policeman, and a policeman will soon show you who's the thief, if you
+don't pay us what you owe, my lovey. And I shouldn't be surprised if,
+when he heard as how you'd runned away, the policeman wasn't to take
+and lock you up at once, my pet. Now, Jenkins, you come along with me,
+and while I makes up the young gentleman's bill you go and fetch a
+policeman, because as he thinks we're thieves, he do."
+
+While the lady delivered herself of this voluble string of
+observations she had gradually approached the door. Before Bertie had
+perceived her design, she had pushed her husband through the door, and
+was through herself; the door was shut, the key turned in the lock,
+and Bertie was a prisoner.
+
+"Now we'll see who's thieves!" the lady was heard to observe outside.
+"Now, Jenkins, you go and get a policeman this instant minute, and
+mind you bring a good big one, too!"
+
+Very few boys would be so foolish as to, what is rather erroneously
+termed run away; sneak away would perhaps be the correct phrase. If in
+any given million we were to put it that there is one such being, we
+should perhaps be stating a larger average than actually exists. But
+we may be pretty sure, that for even that young gentleman the
+adventures which had befallen Bertie Bailey at the very outset would
+have been quite sufficient; he would have devoted the small remainder
+of his energies to running, _i.e_., sneaking, back again.
+
+But Bertie Bailey was made of sterner stuff; he was of those young
+gentlemen who have to learn their lessons a good many times over
+before they can get the meaning of what they have learnt into their
+heads. Those who reach the end of this story will find that he did
+learn his lesson to the end, and that it was a terrible lesson too,
+but the ending was not yet.
+
+So soon as he understood that he was a prisoner, Bertie cast about for
+some method of escape. In his heart he could not but allow that the
+commencement of his journey had not been so successful as he had
+intended that it should be. But he was naturally slow to admit a
+failure. And to think that the ingenious Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins should
+make capital out of his misfortunes; that was an idea he by no means
+relished.
+
+Fortunately, the lady had left his clothes behind. It occurred to
+Bertie that she might perceive her error and return to fetch them. To
+prevent any likelihood of that he put them on. Then he looked about to
+find a path to freedom.
+
+The window immediately caught his eye. It was a very little one, in
+the fashion of a double lattice, which opened outwards. But Bertie
+resolved that it was large enough for him. He opened it carefully and
+peeped out. It was apparently a window at the side of the house,
+looking out upon a narrow passage-way.
+
+Had Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins known the character of their guest, they
+would never have been so foolish as to think the bird was safe while
+he had the command of that convenient window. It was only some ten or
+twelve feet above the ground, and to Bertie the drop was nothing.
+
+He lost no time in putting it to the test. First peering up and down
+the narrow passage, to see that no one was in sight and that no other
+window commanded a view of his operations, he brought the only chair
+the room contained up to the window and commenced to climb through it,
+feet foremost. The operation was a delicate one, but the size of the
+window precluded any other mode of egress. Even as it was, when he was
+about half way through he discovered that he was stuck fast. For a few
+disagreeable moments he feared that he would have to remain in that
+uncomfortable position till Mrs. Jenkins returned to secure her prey.
+
+He wriggled and twisted, but for a time in vain. Suddenly, however, he
+did more than he intended; for the result of a desperate effort was to
+precipitate him so rapidly backwards that he was only just able to
+grasp the old-fashioned, narrow, wooden window sill with his right
+hand in time to prevent himself from falling in a heap upon the
+ground. He hung for a second, to give himself chance to recover from
+the shock, then he loosened his hold, and, dropping, alighted on his
+feet upon the ground; and no sooner was he on the ground than, without
+waiting to see if there was any one about, he dashed helter skelter
+down the passage at the top of his speed.
+
+He was not pursued. On that point his mind was soon at rest. Mr. and
+Mrs. Jenkins were probably too much engaged with other matters to
+think of the possibility of their guest effecting his escape. The
+passage led, by a succession of devious turnings, into the Richmond
+Road. When he reached the main thoroughfare Bertie ceased to run.
+
+Under the railway arch, past the shops, past the cricket field, into
+the lanes beyond, went Bertie. He had had nothing to eat that morning,
+he had not a farthing in his pocket; he had no conception where money
+was to come from unless it tumbled from the skies; yet he went
+unhesitatingly forward, as though all the world was at his feet, and
+all its wealth was in his pocket.
+
+Past Ham Common into Petersham, and now he began to think that perhaps
+he was a little hungry. Delicious recollections of the morning meal of
+yesterday floated through his mind. A dish of ham and eggs he would
+have welcomed as a dish worthy of the gods; but there were no ham and
+eggs for him just then.
+
+The road was dusty; the previous rains had disappeared, and the mud
+was turned to dust. By the time he reached Bute House he had made up
+his mind that the dust and heat combined were a little more than he
+quite relished. By then, too, he had no doubt but that he was hungry
+and thirsty too.
+
+Suddenly the sound of voices fell upon his ear; of children's voices,
+of their laughter, of their cries of pleasure as they called to one
+another. He looked through the rails into Petersham Park. The park was
+full of children. There was some huge school treat, and in hundreds
+they were passing here and there. Up the hill, and along the valley,
+among the trees, and in the nooks and dells, as far as the eye could
+penetrate, there were children moving. He entered, and advancing some
+distance from the outer wall, he lay down upon the grass.
+
+When he had lain there some time there were races started. Little boys
+and big raced for prizes. Those in charge of the multitude of children
+arranged the sports.
+
+"Here's a race for a shilling!" shouted one such person in authority.
+He held a leather bag above his head. There was a shout from the boys
+who crowded round him. The prize was of unusual magnitude. All the
+prizes seemed to be in money,--twopence, threepence, fourpence had
+been their value until now--and no sooner were they won than the
+winners rushed to spend their prizes at the stalls of fruit and
+sweets, the proprietors of which plied a roaring trade. When the race
+for a shilling was announced there was a shout from a multitude of
+throats.
+
+"Now then, why don't you have a try to win? you're big enough. Lying
+there as if you're half asleep; jump up, and show them how fast your
+feet can travel!"
+
+A young man was standing by Bertie, looking down at him, evidently
+unaware that he was not an original member of the noisy crowd.
+
+"Jump up! Why don't you go in for the race? Are you ill?"
+
+"I'm not ill."
+
+Without another word Bertie got up and joined the host of boys who
+were preparing to run. There were probably a hundred, and the
+directors of the sports had considerable difficulty in arranging a
+fair start. The race was confined to the bigger ones; there were no
+starts allowed, and they were all supposed to start from the same
+line. But the competitors had not the nicest sense of honour, and each
+endeavoured to steal a yard from his friend. Finally they were got
+into something like a proper line.
+
+The distance to be run was about two hundred yards. The course was not
+a very regular one, as some were up the hill, and some were down; the
+breadth of the level ground was not sufficient to contain them all.
+Two persons stood in a line to mark the winning-post, and between them
+they stretched a cord. The one on the right held the shilling in a
+bag.
+
+Several false starts were made. In their anxiety to be first the
+competitors could not manage to stand still. Half a dozen times they
+broke away, and had to be called back again. At last they were off.
+The course was from the park and towards the road, the winning-post
+being about a dozen yards from the school house at the gate.
+
+The race was short, and, so far as the majority of the competitors
+were concerned, by no means sharp. Quite a third were out of it in the
+first six yards; half the remainder were beaten in a dozen, and before
+half the distance was covered there were only four or five who had a
+chance of winning. Among these was Bailey. He was not over fast on his
+feet as a rule, but never had the inducement to make the best possible
+speed been so strong before. He was running for his dinner, and, for
+all he knew, his tea and supper too.
+
+In the last fifty yards the race resolved itself into a struggle of
+three. In front was a tall, lanky boy, who, so far as length of limb
+was concerned, ought to have left the others at the post. But his
+condition was not equal to his build; he went puffing and panting
+along. Obviously it would take him all he knew to last it out. About a
+couple of yards behind him, and almost side by side with Bertie, was a
+slightly-built lad, who was straining every nerve to keep his place.
+The freshest of the three was Bailey.
+
+Yet the lanky youth looked like winning. He lumbered and blundered
+along, but his long legs enabled him to cover at a single stride the
+ground which they had to take two steps to cover. The boy by Bertie's
+side had just given up the struggle with a gasp, when the lanky lad
+caught his foot in a hole and went headlong to the ground. Like a
+flash Bertie put on a spurt and dashed victorious in. The prize-holder
+held out the leather bag, and Bertie caught it as he passed.
+
+But the lanky youth, disappointed in his expectations, having puffed
+himself for nothing, beheld the reward of his endeavours snatched from
+his grasp with a burning sense of injury. Struggling to his feet he
+gave his emotions words.
+
+"It ain't fair! Who's he? He ain't one of us! He's a stranger!"
+
+Instantly the words were caught up by a host of disappointed
+competitors.
+
+"He's a stranger! What's he want running races along with us? and
+winning of the prizes?"
+
+The individual who had so hastily yielded up the reward of victory,
+turned to Bertie.
+
+"Aren't you one of our boys?"
+
+But Bertie did not wait to give an answer. The shilling of which he
+had gained possession meant so much to him, that he instinctively felt
+that to wait to explain exactly who he was would be a waste of time.
+He had been told to run, he had run, he had fairly won, he had been
+handed the shilling as his by right; it meant dinner, supper,
+everything to him; he was not going to stop to argue the point as to
+who he was. So when the over hasty-individual put the question to him,
+his only answer was to take to his heels and run.
+
+Instantly a crowd was after him.
+
+"Stop him! stop him! He's a stranger! He's not one of us!"
+
+But if he had run fast before, he ran faster now. He was through the
+gate before any one was near him, dashing across the road, and under
+the shadow of the "Star and Garter."
+
+But the chase was relinquished almost as soon as it was begun. The
+person who had held the shilling stopped it.
+
+"Never mind, boys; he won the race, so let him take the prize. Perhaps
+he wants it more than we do. I daresay we can find another shilling,
+and next time we'll be a little more particular."
+
+The crowd returned into the park again.
+
+Bertie pursued his way. When he saw that the chase had stopped he
+slowed a little, soon contenting himself with rapid walking. He was
+very hot; the perspiration stood in great beads upon his face; his
+clothing had an inclination to stick to his limbs. And he was very
+thirsty; his throat was parched and dry. He was hungry too; his long
+abstinence began to tell; he felt he could not go much farther without
+something to eat and drink.
+
+Along the Lower Road, past Petersham fields, past Buccleuch House,
+into Richmond town. The town was crowded. The afternoon was well
+advanced. The fine weather had brought people out into the streets.
+Hill Street and George Street were crowded with both pedestrians and
+carriages. Richmond can be both gay and lovely on a sunny afternoon.
+It was then. The untidy, dusty, perspiring boy looked out of place
+in that big bright crowd, made up as it was for the most part of
+well-dressed people.
+
+Once or twice he stopped and looked into the confectioners' shops, but
+from their appearance they were evidently beyond his means. If he had
+only been still the possessor of five pounds he might have ruffled
+it with the best of them, but a shilling would not go far in those
+well-filled emporiums of confectionery and nice-looking but
+unsubstantial odds and ends, and he so hungry too. He was beginning to
+fear that Richmond was not the place for him, and that he would have
+to go hungry and thirsty, when he reached the coffee palace in the Kew
+Road.
+
+Here he thought he might venture in; and he did. He had a bloater and
+some bread-and-butter, and a cup of coffee, and there was not much
+change left in his pocket after that. But it was a sufficiently hearty
+meal, and the choice of materials did credit to his judgment. He left
+the shop with his hunger satisfied, feeling brighter and fresher
+altogether, and with fivepence in his pocket clutched tightly with his
+right hand. Those coppers were exceeding precious in his eyes.
+
+He set out to walk to London. He knew that Richmond was not very far
+from London, and had a general idea that he had to keep straight on.
+He had lingered over his meal, taking his time and resting, and
+watching the other customers enjoying theirs, so that it was about six
+o'clock when he rose and went. A curious spirit of adventure possessed
+him still. The bull-dog nature of the boy was roused, and it was with
+an implicit faith in the future that he went straight on.
+
+Until he reached Kew Bridge all was easy sailing; there was a straight
+road, and he went straight on. But at Kew Bridge he pulled up,
+puzzled. He had crossed the river at Hampton Court, and again at
+Kingston, and apparently here was another bridge to cross. It seemed
+to him that things were getting mixed. Ignorant of the convolutions of
+the Thames, of its manifold twists and turns, he began to wonder
+whether he had not after all gone wrong, when he found the river in
+front of him again.
+
+By the bridge lingered two or three of the flower-sellers who haunt
+the neighbourhood of Kew Gardens. He addressed himself to one of them.
+
+"Am I right for London?"
+
+"Of course you is, over the bridge, turn to the right, and go straight
+on. Won't you buy a bookay? Only this one left; ain't sold none all
+day,--flowers only just fresh,--only sixpence, sir."
+
+The man kept up by Bertie's side, supported by one or two of his
+colleagues, proffering their wares.
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+"Don't say that, sir,--I'm a poor chap, sir,--I am indeed, sir,--very
+'ard to stand all day and not sell nothing--just this one, sir--you
+shall have it for fivepence."
+
+"I tell you I haven't any money."
+
+"Leave the gentleman alone, Bill. Don't you see he's a-going home to
+his ma?"
+
+His colleagues dropped off, firing a parting shot; but the man whom
+Bertie had originally addressed kept steadily on, sticking close to
+his side. They crossed the bridge together. The sun was beginning to
+go home in the west, majestically enthroned in a bank of crimson
+clouds. The waters were tinted by his departing rays.
+
+"Just this one, sir--take pity on a poor chap, now do, sir--you've got
+a nice home to go to, and a ma and all, and here's me, what hasn't
+earned a copper all the day, with nothing to eat and drink, and not a
+bed to lay me 'ead upon--buy this one, sir--you shall have it for
+fourpence."
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+They went down the bridge together, the man still sticking to Bertie's
+side.
+
+"If I was a gentleman, and a poor chap came to me, and asked me to buy
+a bookay, I wouldn't tell him I'd got no money, and me a hard-working
+chap what hasn't tasted food for a couple of days, and hasn't seen a
+bed for a week--just this one, sir--you shall have it for threepence,
+and that's less than it cost me, it is indeed, sir--won't you have it
+for threepence?"
+
+"I tell you I haven't any money."
+
+The man stopped, allowing Bertie to wend his way alone, but his voice
+still followed after.
+
+"Oh, you haven't any money, haven't you? would you like me to lend you
+half-a-crown or a suvering? I'm sure I'm game. 'Ow much does your ma
+allow you a week? a hapenny and a smack on the 'ead? If I was you I'd
+ask your nurse to take you out in the pram, and buy you lollipops,--go
+on, you mealy-faced young 'umbug!"
+
+Bertie almost wished he had not asked the way, but had been content to
+blunder on unaided. The flower-seller's voice was peculiarly audible;
+the passers by were more amused than Bertie was. It was his first
+experience of the characteristic eloquence of a certain class of
+Londoner; he would have been content if it had been his last. He went
+on, feeling somewhat smaller in his own esteem.
+
+Past the "Star and Garter," along the Kew road, never a very cheerful
+thoroughfare. Bertie thought it particularly cheerless then. Through
+Gunnersbury, and Chiswick, and Turnham Green, past the green itself,
+past Duke's Avenue, which is already a caricature of its former self,
+and threatens to be an avenue no more. Past where, not so very long
+ago, the toll bar used to stand, though there is no memorial of its
+presence now. Past the carriage manufactory; past the terminus of that
+singular railway which boasts of a single carriage and a single
+engine,--said railway being two if not three miles long. Into King
+Street, Hammersmith, and when he had got so far upon his journey the
+lad began to tire.
+
+The evening was closing in. The lamps were lighted; the shops were
+ablaze with gas; the streets were crowded. But Bertie did not know
+where he was; he was standing on strange ground. He wondered, rather
+wearily, if this were London; but after his recent experience with the
+vendor of bouquets he was afraid to ask. He was hungry again, and
+began to look into the shop windows with anxious eyes. Fivepence would
+not go far.
+
+He tramped wearily on, right through King Street. At a costermonger's
+stall he bought a pennyworth of apples, and munched them as he went.
+His capital was now reduced to fourpence, and night was come, and he
+was on the threshold of the great city--that Land of Golden Dreams.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIV
+
+                              IN TROUBLE
+
+
+Through the Broadway, along the Hammersmith Road, on, and on, and on.
+Every step he took made the next seem harder. He was conscious that he
+could hardly walk much more. The crowd, the lights, the strangeness of
+the place, confused him. He wondered where he was. Was this London?
+and was it nothing else but streets? and was this the Land of Golden
+Dreams?
+
+When he reached the Cedars, where the great pile of school buildings
+is now standing, he saw, peering through the railings, a little arab
+of the streets. To him he applied for information.
+
+"Is this London?"
+
+The urchin withdrew his head from between the two iron rails through
+which he had managed to squeeze it, and eyed his questioner. He was a
+little lad, smaller than Bertie, hatless, shoeless, in a ragged pair
+of trousers which were several sizes too large for him, and which were
+rolled up in a bunch about his ankles to enable him to put his feet
+far enough through to touch the ground.
+
+"What, this? this 'ere? no, this ain't London."
+
+"How far is it then?"
+
+"How far is it? what, London? It just depends what part of London
+might you be wanting?"
+
+"Any part; I don't care."
+
+The urchin whistled. His small, keen eyes had been reading his
+questioner all the time, and Bertie was conscious of a sense of
+discomfort as he observed the curious gaze. In some odd way he felt
+that this little lad was bigger and stronger, and older than himself;
+that he looked down at him, as it were, from a height.
+
+"Say, matey, where might you be going to? You don't look as though you
+knowed your way about, not much, you don't."
+
+The cool tone of superiority irritated Bertie. Tired and weary as he
+was, and a little sick at heart, he was not going to allow a little
+shrimp like this to look down on him.
+
+"If you won't tell me the way, why, that's enough. I don't want any of
+your cheek."
+
+Bertie moved on, but the other called after him.
+
+"You needn't turn rusty, you needn't; I didn't mean no harm. I'm going
+to London, I am, and if you like you can come along o' me."
+
+The urchin was by his side again. Bertie looked at him with disgusted
+eyes. He had not set out upon his journey with the intention of
+travelling with such tag-rag and bobtail as this lad. So far the
+society into which he had fallen had been of an unfortunate kind; he
+had had enough of Sam Slater, and of Sam Slater's sort.
+
+"I'm not going with you; I'm going by myself."
+
+"Alright, matey, every bloke's free to choose his pals."
+
+The urchin turned a series of catherine-wheels right under Bertie's
+nose. Then, with a whistle of unearthly shrillness, he set off
+running, and disappeared into the night. Bertie was left no wiser than
+before.
+
+He dragged along till he reached Addison Road A gentleman in evening
+dress came across the road, smoking a cigar. He was of middle age,
+irreproachably attired, with nothing of Sam Slater about him.
+
+"If you please, sir, can you tell me how far it is to London?"
+
+The gentleman stopped short, puffing at his cigar.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Bertie repeated his inquiry. For answer, the gentleman took him by the
+shoulder, led him to a neighbouring lamp-post, and looked him in the
+face.
+
+"What are you doing here? You look respectable; you're from the
+country, aren't you?"
+
+Bertie hesitated; he remembered the effect produced by his incautious
+frankness on Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.
+
+"Speak up; you have got a tongue, haven't you? What are you doing
+here? run away from home?"
+
+The lad, giving a sudden twist, freed himself from the gentleman's
+grasp, and ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. The stranger,
+puffing at his cigar as he stood under the lamp-post, laughed as he
+peered after the retreating boy. But Bertie, despite his weariness,
+still ran on. He dimly wondered, whether he bore about with him some
+outward sign by which any one could tell he was a runaway. He made up
+his mind that he would ask no more questions if he ran the risk of
+meeting such home thrusts in reply.
+
+He wandered onwards till he reached Kensington Gardens, and then the
+Albert Hall. There was a concert going on, and the place was all lit
+up. He stared with amazement at the enormous building, imperfectly
+revealed in the darkness of the night. Carriages and cabs were going
+to and fro. Some one touched him on the shoulder. It was a gorgeous
+footman, with powdered hair, in splendid livery. His magnificence
+dazzled him.
+
+"I say, you boy, do you know Thurloe Square?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"What do you mean? are you gettin' at me? You take a message for me to
+Thurloe Square, and there'll be a bob when you get there."
+
+"But I don't know Thurloe Square; I'm a stranger, sir."
+
+"A stranger, are you? Then what do you mean by standing there, as
+though you was born just over the way? Get on out of it! I shouldn't
+be surprised if you was after pockethandkerchiefs;--what's your little
+lay? I'll tell the policeman to keep an eye on you, telling me you
+don't know Thurloe Square;--oh yes, I jest dersay!"
+
+The footman appeared to be angry; Bertie slunk away. He crossed the
+road to the park; a gate was open; people were going in and out. He
+entered too. It looked quiet inside; perhaps there was grass to sit
+upon. He went up towards the Serpentine, and had not gone far when he
+came to a seat. On this he sat. Never was seat more welcome; it was
+ecstasy to rest. He was dimly conscious of what was going on; before
+he knew it he was fast asleep.
+
+Time passed; still he slept. A perfect sleep untroubled by dreams.
+Some one else approached the seat, some one in the last stage of
+raggedness, so exhausted that he seemed hardly able to drag one foot
+behind the other. He, too, sat down; he, too, fell fast asleep.
+
+Some one else approached,--a woman with a baby and a watercress
+basket. The baby was crying faintly; the woman tried to comfort it,
+speaking to in a droning monotone:
+
+"I've nothing to give you, bairn," she said; "I've nothing to give
+you, bairn! God help us all!"
+
+A policeman came along. When he reached the seat he stopped, and
+flashed the bull's-eye lantern in the faces of the sleepers. The woman
+woke up instantly, perhaps used to such a visitation.
+
+"I'm going, sir; I only sat down for a moment to rest awhile."
+
+The baby began to cry again.
+
+"I've nothing to give you, bairn," she said; "I've nothing to give
+you, bairn! God help us all!"
+
+It seemed to be a stereotyped form of speech. She got up, with the
+baby and her basket, and walked away, the baby crying as she went. The
+policeman remained behind, flashing his bull's-eye.
+
+"Now then, this won't do, you know; wake up, you two."
+
+He took the ragged sleeper by the shoulder, and shook him; he seemed
+to wake in a kind of stupor, and staggered off without a word. The
+policeman turned to Bertie.
+
+"Now then!"
+
+The lad woke with a start; he thought some one was playing tricks with
+him.
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"I want you to clear out of this, that's what I want."
+
+Opening his eyes Bertie was for a moment dazzled by the glaring light;
+then he saw at the back the policeman's form, looming grim and awful.
+Possessed by a sudden fear, he sprang to his feet, and ran as for his
+life.
+
+"Now I wonder what you've been up to?" murmured the policeman. "I
+don't remember seeing your face before; I should say you was a new
+hand, you was."
+
+Bertie ran, without knowing where he was running to; across the road,
+under a rail. He found himself upon the grass. It was quite dark,
+mysterious, strange. He could hardly be followed there, so he thought
+at least, and strolled more slowly on. But he was very tired still,
+and, yielding to his weariness, when he had gone a little farther, he
+sat down upon the grass to rest.
+
+And this was the Land of Golden Dreams! this was his entrance into the
+promised land! A gentle breeze murmured through the night; there was a
+sound as of rippling grass and of rustling leaves; he could see no
+stars; a heavy dew was falling; the grass was damp; it was chilly; the
+breeze blew cold; he shivered with hunger and with cold. His head was
+nodding on his breast; almost unconsciously he lay full length upon
+the sodden grass, and again fell fast asleep.
+
+But this time it was not a dreamless slumber; it was a continued
+nightmare. He was oppressed with horrid visions, with continuous
+strugglings against hideous forms of terror. Unrefreshed he woke. It
+was broad day; but there had come a sudden change of weather, the
+skies were overcast and dull. His limbs were aching; he was stiff, and
+wet, and cold; he was soaked to the skin; his clothes stuck to his
+body. Shivering, he struggled to his feet, rising with pain. The place
+was deserted. Three was a solitary horseman in the distance; the
+horseman and the lad were the only living things in sight.
+
+It began to drizzle; the wind had risen; it whistled in the air. The
+fine weather had departed as though never to return. Bertie's teeth
+were chattering; he felt dull and stupid, ignorant of what he ought to
+do.
+
+He began walking through the rain across the grass. How cold he was,
+and oh! how hungry. He must have something to eat, and something warm
+to drink. He thought of his money; he felt for his fourpence; it was
+gone!
+
+The discovery stunned him. He could not realize the fact at once, but
+searched in each of his pockets laboriously, one after the other. He
+turned them inside out; felt for holes through which it might have
+fallen. He remembered that he had put it in the right hand pocket of
+his trousers; he examined it again and again, in a sort of stupor. In
+vain; it was gone!
+
+He retraced his steps. It might have fallen out of his pockets in the
+night; he fell upon his knees and searched. There was no sign of it
+about. He was without a sou, and he was so hungry and so cold, and it
+was raining, and he was wet to the skin.
+
+He could not realize his loss. He wandered stupidly on, stopping at
+times, feeling in his pockets again and again. It could not be gone.
+But there was no money there. This was his Land of Golden Dreams; this
+was the object of his journey; this was the result of his dash into
+the world; he was cold, and he was hungry, and he saw no signs of
+anything to eat.
+
+At last he left the park behind. He went out by the Piccadilly gate,
+as miserable a figure as any to be seen, stained with mud, soaked with
+wet, hungry and forlorn. It was early. The early omnibuses were
+bringing crowds of business men to town. The drivers were muffled in
+their mackintoshes, the outside passengers crouched beneath their
+umbrellas. Everything and every one looked cold, and miserable, and
+wet; Bertie looked worst of all, for he looked hungry too.
+
+How hungry! There had been moments at Mecklemburg House when hunger
+had made itself felt, but never hunger such as this. The very worst
+meal Mr. Fletcher had ever set before his pupils--and his system of
+dietary was not his strongest point--Bertie would have welcomed as a
+feast. Even a dry crust of stale bread would have been welcome; a cup
+of the wishy-washiest tea would have been nectar of the gods.
+
+He was footsore too. As he wandered by the Piccadilly mansions and
+approached the shops, he became conscious that his feet were
+blistered. It was a discomfort to be obliged to put them to the
+ground. His right foot, in particular, had a blister on the heel, and
+another on the ball of the foot. It seemed to him that every moment
+these were getting larger. He would have liked to have taken his boot
+and sock off and examine his injuries. He was aware, too, that he was
+dirty; more than two days had passed since he had come in contact with
+soap and water. Once upon a time he had had a vague idea that it was a
+glorious sport of the heroic character to be dirty; now he would have
+liked to have had a wash. But he could neither wash nor examine his
+feet in the middle of Piccadilly.
+
+The presence of the shops caused him an additional pang. The display
+of costly goods in their windows seemed to add to his misery. Even the
+possession of his fourpence, as compared to the value of such
+treasures, would have placed him at a disadvantage.
+
+But without it he was poor indeed. He was fascinated by the fruit
+shops; all the fruits of the earth, those in season and those out,
+seemed gathered there. He glued his nose to the window and looked and
+longed.
+
+"Now then, what are you doing there? move on out of that!"
+
+A policeman, in a shiny cape, from which the wet was dripping, roughly
+shouldered him on. He was not even allowed to look. This was not at
+all the sort of thing he had expected. His idea of his entry into the
+great city had been altogether different. He was to come as the king
+of boys, if not of men; as something remarkable, as a heaven-born
+conqueror; something to be talked of; the centre of all eyes directly
+he was seen. To sleep upon the sodden grass, to be penniless, cold,
+wet, and hungry, to be shouldered by policemen, to be bidden to move
+on, these things had not entered into his calculations when that night
+at Mecklemburg House he had dreamed those golden dreams.
+
+He struggled on; his feet became more painful; he was limping; rest he
+must. He turned down a bye-street, and then down a friendly entry, and
+leaned against the wall. Was this what he had come for, to lean in the
+rain against a wall, and to be thankful for the chance of leaning? He
+had not read in lives of Robin Hood, and Turpin, and Crusoe, and Jack
+the Giant-Killer, of episodes like this. But then, perhaps, his
+acquaintance with the histories of those gentlemen was not so perfect
+as it might have been.
+
+Suddenly he heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Some one
+was coming along the side-street as though racing for his life. A lad
+about his own age came darting round the corner in such terrific haste
+that he almost ran into Bertie's arms.
+
+"Catch hold! here's a present for you."
+
+The runner gasped out the words, without pausing in his flight. Like
+an arrow from a bow he darted on, leaving Bertie standing there. To
+his amazement Bailey found that he had thrust something in his hand;
+his surprise was intensified when he discovered what it was,--it was a
+purse. The runner had turned another corner and was already out of
+sight.
+
+Bertie, in his bewilderment, could do nothing else but gaze. Such
+unexpected generosity, coming at such a moment, was so astonishing
+that it was almost as though the gift had fallen from the skies. A
+good fat purse! It was like the stories after all. He could feel that
+it was heavy; he almost thought that he could feel that it was full.
+Suppose it were full of gold! Had it fallen from the skies?
+
+All this occupied an instant. The next he was conscious that some one
+else was coming up the street; apparently some one else in equal
+haste; apparently more than one. Cries rang in his ears; he could not
+quite distinguish the words which were shouted, but at their sound,
+for some reason, a cold chill went down his back.
+
+Some one came round the corner; some one who seized him as though he
+were some wild thing.
+
+"Got you, have I! thought you'd double, did you, and slip out when I'd
+run past? Artful, but it didn't quite do,--not this time, at any
+rate."
+
+His captor shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. It was a policeman, a
+huge, bearded fellow, six feet high. Bertie was like a plaything in
+his hands. On hearing some one coming, the boy, without any thought of
+what he was doing, had slipped the hand which held the purse behind
+his back. The policeman was down on it at once.
+
+"What's that you've got there?"
+
+He twisted the boy round, revealing the hand which held the purse. He
+took it away.
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? You hadn't got time to throw it away, I
+suppose, or perhaps you thought it was too good to lose--worth running
+a little risk for, eh? Well, you've run the risk just once too often."
+
+By this time others had come into the entry, and now Bertie recognised
+the words which he had heard. What they had been shouting was, "Stop
+thief!"
+
+The new comers showed a lively interest in the captive. A man, who
+looked like a respectable mechanic, reckoned him up.
+
+"That's not the boy," he said.
+
+"Oh, isn't it? It doesn't look like it, not when he was hiding here,
+and holding the purse in his hand!"
+
+The policeman held up the purse with an air of smiling scorn.
+
+"Had he got the purse? Well, whether he had or whether he hadn't, all
+I can say is he isn't the boy who took it; I'm willing to take my oath
+to that. He was a different-looking sort of boy altogether, and I was
+standing as close to him as I am to you."
+
+"I never took the purse," said Bertie, with dogged lips and dogged
+eyes. He realized that great trouble had come upon him, as he writhed
+and twisted in the policeman's hand. "It was given to me."
+
+"Yes, I daresay, and by a particular friend, no doubt. You come along
+with me, my lad, and tell that tale elsewhere."
+
+The policeman began to drag the lad along the entry.
+
+"The boy will go quietly, I daresay, if you give him a chance,"
+observed the man who had previously spoken. "However it may be about
+the purse being found upon him, I'm prepared to prove that that's not
+the boy who took it."
+
+"Well, you can come and give your evidence, can't you? It's no good
+standing arguing here; the lad had got the purse, and I've got the
+lad, and that's quite enough for me."
+
+"Where are you going to take him to?"
+
+"Marlborough Street Police Court."
+
+"All right, I'll come round and say what I've got to say. My name's
+William Standing,--I'm a picture framer; I'll go and tell my governor
+where I'm off to, and I'll be there as soon as you are."
+
+The man walked away. The policeman proceeded to haul Bertie off with
+him again. The boy was speechless. He was tired, his feet were sore;
+the policeman's pace was almost more than he could manage. In
+consequence, every now and then he received a jerk, which all but
+pitched him forward on his nose.
+
+"Why don't you leave the boy alone?" inquired a man in the little
+crowd, which walked alongside in a sort of procession, whose ideas of
+a policeman's duty were apparently vague. "He ain't done no 'arm to
+you."
+
+"Why, bless yer, if it wasn't for them little 'uns them policemen
+would have no one to collar; they daren't lay a finger on a man of
+your build, old pal."
+
+This remark, from another member of the crowd, produced a laugh. The
+original speaker was a diminutive specimen of his kind, whom the
+policeman could have carried in his arms with the greatest of ease.
+
+When they regained Piccadilly they came upon the victim of the
+robbery. This was a portly, middle-aged female, who was a pleasant
+combination of mackintoshes and agitation. She was the centre of an
+interested circle, into whose sympathetic ears she was pouring her
+tale of woe. The arrival of the policeman with his captive created a
+diversion.
+
+"Is this the boy?" inquired the constable.
+
+"Have you got my purse?" replied the lady. "It contained thirty-seven
+pounds, fifteen shillings, and threepence, in two ten pound notes, two
+fives,--I've got the numbers in my purse,--seven pounds in gold, four
+of them half-sovereigns, fifteen shillings in silver, and a threepenny
+bit; and whatever I shall do without it I don't know. I'm the landlady
+of the 'Rising Sun,' and I was going to pay my wine-merchant's bill,
+and I said to my daughter only this morning, 'Take all that money
+loose I didn't ought to do. No, Mary Ann, a cheque it ought to be.'
+But Mary Ann's that flighty, though she's in her thirties, though
+twenty-two she tries to pass herself to be----"
+
+The policeman endeavoured to stop the lady's flood of eloquence.
+
+"You can tell us all that when we get to the station. You'll have to
+come with me to identify the purse and charge the boy."
+
+"I don't want to charge the boy, all I want is to identify the purse.
+As for the young limb of a boy, I'd like to give him a good banging
+with my unbrella, that I would!"
+
+The lady shook her umbrella at the boy in a way which caused the crowd
+to laugh. But there was no laughter left in Bertie.
+
+"We can't have any banging here," said the policeman, who was anxious
+to get on. "If you take my advice, you'll call a cab and let us all go
+comfortably together."
+
+"Me go in a cab with a policeman and that there limb of a boy; not if
+I know it! I've kept the 'Rising Sun' respectable these six-and-twenty
+years,--sixteen years in my husband's time,--as respectable a man as
+ever breathed, though cherry brandy was his failing,--and ten long
+years a widow, and go to prison with a policeman and that there limb
+of a boy in a cab----"
+
+"Nobody's asked you to go to prison," said the policeman, whose
+patience was beginning to fade. "I can't stand talking here all day.
+Now then, boy, best foot forward, march!"
+
+Bertie's poor best foot was blistered, so that the policeman had to
+assist him, with occasional awkward jerks, to march to jail.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XV
+
+                 OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE
+
+
+There was a meeting in Trafalgar Square that day. Some people thought
+they had a grievance, and resolved to air it. No matter what the
+grievance was; the world is very full of them, and too many of them
+are hard and stern, and old and deep, difficult to be removed. But the
+authorities had decided that this particular grievance should not be
+aired in this particular way; they would permit no meeting to be held
+in Trafalgar Square. The result was, contests with the police. The
+people with the grievance tried hard to air it; there were ugly
+rushes, the excitement spread, and in the neighbourhood adjoining
+there was something very like a riot.
+
+One procession of the people with a grievance making for the Square,
+had been met by the police and turned aside. Part of the processioners
+had been turned into Piccadilly, and were being driven along that
+thoroughfare, helter skelter, just as the procession which escorted
+Bertie and his captor approached. The policeman saw his danger, and
+tried to turn aside. It was too late. The fugitives coming
+tumultuously along, and seeing only a single constable, made a rush in
+his direction.
+
+In a moment Bertie found himself the centre of a pushing, yelling,
+struggling crowd, with the policeman holding on to him like grim
+death. Above the tumult could be distinguished the accents of the
+landlady of the "Rising Sun."
+
+"I'm the landlady of the 'Rising Sun,' and I've kept the house
+respectable these six-and-twenty years--ten long years a widow, and
+sixteen years a respectable married woman--and it's a sin and a shame
+that a respectable female----"
+
+But the crowd was no respecter of persons; the lady was hustled on one
+side, where her voice was heard no more. Bertie became conscious that
+a contest was going on for the possession of himself. The policeman
+stuck to him with extraordinary tenacity; with equal tenacity the
+crowd endeavoured to drag him away. Bertie suffered. Without wasting
+any time in inquiring as to the rights of the case, his new friends
+did their best to deprive the law of its prey. But they directed their
+efforts with misguided zeal. If they had left him to his fate, Bertie
+could only have suffered imprisonment at the worst; now he ran a risk
+of being drawn and quartered. They apparently did their best to drag
+his arms and legs out of their sockets; he felt his clothes giving way
+in all directions. Through all the heat and turmoil he felt that if
+this was town he preferred the country.
+
+In the unequal strife the constable, unsupported, was vanquished in
+the end. It was well for Bailey the end came when it did; if he had
+stuck to his prize much longer the pieces of a boy would have strewed
+the street. Some one in the crowd struck the constable in the face
+with a stick. Putting up his hand to ward off a second blow, Bertie
+was instantly snatched from his grasp. His capture was so unsuspected,
+that the two zealous friends who were doing their best to tear him
+limb from limb, recoiling backwards, loosed their hold, and let him
+fall upon the ground.
+
+"Get up, youngster, and hook it! The peelers will have you again if
+you don't look sharp; there's a lot of them coming down the street."
+
+A workman stooped over the lad as he lay in the mud and assisted him
+to rise. He regained his feet, feeling stunned and bewildered. His
+friendly ally gave him a push, which sent him staggering into the
+thick of the crowd. It was only just in time to prevent the constable
+from catching hold of him again. The confusion suddenly became worse
+confounded.
+
+"The peelers! the peelers!" was the cry.
+
+There was a trampling of hoofs; the crowd parted in all directions,
+each seeking safety for himself. Half a dozen mounted constables went
+galloping through.
+
+"Now you cut and run! If you aren't quick about it they'll nail you
+again as sure as eggs!"
+
+It was the friendly workman urging Bertie to flight. He did not need
+much urging, but made the best of his way through the crowd, the
+memory of the policeman's grip still upon him. No one tried to stop
+him. Every one, including apparently his original captor, was too much
+engaged in his own affairs. He did not wait to see what became of the
+landlady of the "Rising Sun," though he seemed to hear her indignant
+accents above the tumult and the din. As fast as his wearied legs
+would carry him he tore away.
+
+All that day he had nothing to eat. He saw nothing again of the
+policeman, nor of the crowd, nor of the lady who had lost her purse
+with its thirty-seven pounds, fifteen shillings, and a threepenny bit.
+But he had been in custody; he had signalized his entry into the Land
+of Golden Dreams by being within an ace of jail; the thought was with
+him all the day. Every policeman he saw he shrunk away from, and every
+policeman seemed to follow his shrinking with suspicious eyes. He was
+in continual expectation of feeling a hand upon his shoulder, and
+another experience of how it felt to be dragged through the streets.
+
+It never ceased to rain; yet the rain did not come down fast, but
+always in the same slow, persistent drizzle. It was a cold rain, and
+the wind, which every now and then became almost tempestuous, was
+cold. Every one seemed to be in a bad temper; there were sour faces
+everywhere. The drivers of the various vehicles quarrelled with one
+another, and cursed and swore. Pedestrians hustled each other into the
+gutter; each seemed to be persuaded that the other did his best to get
+into his way.
+
+Bertie had paid three previous visits to London,--this made the
+fourth. On each of the previous occasions he had been accompanied by
+his father; this was the first time he had come alone. Many a time
+that day he wished that he had postponed his personal exploration till
+a little later on; about the middle of the century after next, he was
+persuaded, would have been time enough for him.
+
+His first visit had been as one of a family party to see the
+pantomime. There had been a morning performance; they had left home
+early in the morning, returning late at night. That day was a
+red-letter day in Bertie's calendar.
+
+"When I went to see the pantomime," was the words which formed a
+prelude to many a tale of the wondrous sights which he had seen.
+
+The second time he came up with father alone. The doctor had had some
+meeting to attend at the hospital at which he had spent his student
+days, and Bertie bore him company. Afterwards a visit had been paid to
+Madame Tussaud's and the Zoological Gardens. But the climax of the day
+had been the dinner at the restaurant in the evening before returning
+home. Bertie always thought that he had seen life when he looked
+backwards at that dinner in the after days. Champagne had accompanied
+that repast, and a band had played.
+
+But the crowning visit had been the third. A certain
+cousin--feminine--had been a member of the party, and she alone would
+have canonized the day. They had gone to the exhibition and dined
+there, and seen the illuminations, and he had told himself that London
+was a city of delights, a paradise below, fairyland to-day.
+
+This point of view did not occur to him with so much force on this,
+the occasion of his fourth visit. As he struggled up and down the wet
+and greasy streets, with his blistered feet and his empty stomach,
+anything more unlike a city of delights it seemed to him that he had
+never seen. He was continually getting into everybody's way, always
+being hustled into the gutter, and once, when an irate elderly
+gentleman sent him flying backwards to assume a sitting posture in the
+centre of a heap of mud, everybody laughed. But it was no joke to him.
+The elderly gentleman was a little sorry when he saw what he had done.
+
+"You oughtn't to get in my way! The police didn't ought to allow boys
+like you to hang about the streets!"
+
+That was the way he expressed his penitence, and then passed on.
+Bertie picked himself up at leisure. He was a sorry sight, and when
+the people saw the spectacle he presented they laughed again.
+
+"If I was you I'd sow seeds in that there mud you've got on you; it'd
+be as good as 'arf a hacre of ground."
+
+This was the comment of a paper-seller. He resumed his calling,
+shouting, "Hecho! Fourth hedition! Hecho!" But some one else had a
+word to say. This was a girl who was selling flowers for button-holes.
+
+"You let me stick these 'ere flowers in that there sile you've just
+picked up. They'll grow like winkin'!"
+
+All this was hard enough to bear, but the worst was the hunger and
+thirst. Although it rained all day, his thirst remained unquenched.
+
+Toward evening he found himself in Covent Garden. As he looked shyly
+round his hopes rose just a little. To begin with, there seemed
+shelter. If he might only be allowed to stay in this place all night!
+
+On the ground was vegetable refuse, ancient cabbage leaves, odds and
+ends of garbage which littered the place. If he could only pick up one
+or two of those cabbage leaves and see how far they would go towards
+staying his appetite! Surely no one could object to that, since they
+were placed there only to be thrown away. So he began picking up the
+cabbage leaves.
+
+"Now then, what are you doing there? None of that now! Clear out of
+this, or I'll clear you out, and precious quick!"
+
+At the sound of a strident voice Bertie trembled as though he had been
+guilty of a heinous crime. He dropped the cabbage leaves out of his
+hands again. A little man, who was apparently some one in authority,
+had suddenly appeared from behind one of the pillars, and was shouting
+at Bertie with the full force of his lungs. Like a frightened ewe the
+hero of yesterday gave a look round and slunk away. He was
+disappointed of his meal. The ground was evidently holy ground, and
+the cabbage leaves were evidently sacred cabbage leaves. The
+disappointment seemed to make his hunger worse. He had scarcely
+strength enough to slink away. He put his arms around one of the
+pillars, and, leaning his head against it, cried.
+
+This was what had become of all his golden dreams! Of what stuff are
+heroes made?
+
+"I say, young one, what's in the wind? Any one trodden on your
+precious toes? You don't seem so chirpy as some."
+
+Bertie looked up through his tears to see who the speaker was. A
+little time ago to have been caught crying would have covered him with
+shame, now all shame of that sort seemed to have gone for ever. He
+vaguely feared that this was some new Jack-in-office again bidding him
+move on; but he was wrong.
+
+The speaker was a boy about his own age; but there was something about
+him which at a very first glance showed that he was different from
+other boys. He was respectably dressed; the chief peculiarity about
+his clothing being that it seemed to fit him like his skin. A tighter
+pair of trousers surely never imprisoned human legs. His waistcoat
+fitted him without a crease, and it seemed that he had been made for
+his coat, and not his coat for him. He wore a billycock hat of a
+particularly knowing pattern, set rakishly upon the side of his head;
+a stand-up collar made it difficult for him to look anywhere except
+straight in front of him; and an enormous pin, set in the centre of a
+gorgeous blue necktie, made his costume quite complete.
+
+Even more remarkable than his costume was his face. It has been said
+of the famous Lord Chancellor, Lord Thurlow, that no one could be so
+wise as Lord Thurlow looked; it was almost equally impossible that any
+one could be so knowing as the expression of his countenance declared
+this young gentleman to be. It was an unhealthy face, an unpleasant
+face, with something in it which reminded you of how Methuselah might
+have appeared in his green old age. It was never still; the eyes
+seemed to be all over the place at once; it seemed to be continually
+listening to catch the first sound of something or some one drawing
+near.
+
+"Down on your luck? What are you piping your eye for? Does that sort
+of thing suit your constitution? Turn round to the light, and let's
+have a look what you're like; don't keep hugging that pillar as though
+it was your ma."
+
+Through all his misery Bertie saw that this young gentleman was
+centuries older than himself, though they had probably entered the
+world within the same twelve months. Besides, he was too prostrated to
+resist, even had he wished, and he allowed the other to drag him into
+a position in which he might study his features at his leisure.
+
+"I thought so,--directly I caught sight of your back I thought I knew
+your size. Wasn't you in Sackville Street this morning?"
+
+"In Sackville Street?" repeated Bertie vaguely.
+
+"Yes, in Sackville Street, my bonny boy. Never heard tell of Sackville
+Street before, I suppose? So I should think by the look of you. Wasn't
+it you I pitched the old girl's purse to?"
+
+A light was dawning upon Bertie's mind.
+
+"Was it you who stole the purse?"
+
+The other gave a quick look round, as though the question took him by
+surprise--if anything so self-possessed could be said to be taken by
+surprise.
+
+"Stow your cackle! Do you want to have me put away? Where do you live
+when you're at home? You must be a sharp one, though you do look so
+jolly green! I thought you'd be buckled to a certainty! I never
+expected to see you walking about as large as life. It gave me quite a
+start when I saw you hugging that pillar as though you loved it. How
+did you make tracks?"
+
+Bertie was trying to collect his thoughts. This boy before him was a
+thief, a miserable hound who tried to escape the consequences of his
+own misdeeds by putting the odium of his crimes upon the innocent. But
+Bertie was alone; alone in the great city, hungry, thirsty, tired,
+wet, and cold. Human companionship was human companionship after all.
+And this boy looked so much more prosperous than he himself was.
+Yesterday he would have done great things; to-day he would have
+welcomed a crust of bread coming even from this thief.
+
+"The policeman wanted to lock me up."
+
+"No! did he though? Funny ones those policemen are! they're always
+wanting to go locking people up. And did he cop the purse?"
+
+"He took the purse away from me."
+
+"And how come you to be making love to that there pillar, instead of
+enjoying yourself in a nice warm cell? I suppose you didn't give the
+policeman one in the nose and knock him down?"
+
+"We met some people in the street, and they made him let me go."
+
+"Did they though? that was kind of them! When policemen was making
+free with me I wish I was always meeting people in the streets who
+would make them interfering bobbies let me go. And now, who are you
+when you're at home? We're having quite a nice little conversation,
+ain't we, you and I? Glad I met you, quite a treat!" He raised his hat
+to express his sense of the satisfaction which he felt. "You don't
+look as though you were raised in these 'ere parts."
+
+Bertie hung his head; he was ashamed: ashamed of many things, but most
+of all just then of the company he was in. And yet, if he turned this
+thief adrift, where else should he find a friend? And he was so tired,
+so hungry, so conscious of his own helplessness.
+
+"You very nearly got me locked up this morning," was his answer.
+
+"Well, my noble marquis, wasn't it better for you to be locked up than
+me? It'll have to come, you know--if not to-morrow the day after."
+
+To Bertie this view of the matter had not occurred before. It had not
+entered into his calculations that a journey to the Land of Golden
+Dreams would necessitate the process of locking-up.
+
+"Are you on the cross, or only mouching around?"
+
+This inquiry was Greek to Bertie, and his questioner perceived that he
+failed to understand.
+
+"You're a fly bloke, that you are! What's your little game? You
+haven't got a fortune in your pocket, or a marquis for a pa? What do
+you do to live? I suppose you ain't reckoning to die just yet awhile."
+
+"I wish I could do something, but I can't."
+
+"Oh, you wish you could do something, do you, but unfortunately you
+can't! Well, you are a trial for the nerves! Have you got any money?"
+
+Bertie hung his head still lower. To be despised by a thief! Was this
+the result of all his dreams?
+
+"No!"
+
+"Got any friends?"
+
+"I've run away from them."
+
+And here the boy broke down. Turning, and leaning against a pillar, he
+burst into a passion of tears. The other eyed him for a few moments,
+whistling beneath his breath.
+
+"That's the time of day, is it? I thought you were something of that
+kind from the first, I did. What did you run away for?"
+
+Bertie could not have told him to save his life. To have told this
+thief that he had started on a journey to the Land of Golden Dreams;
+that he had resolved to emulate the doings of his heroes, Dick Turpin,
+Crusoe, Jack the Giant-Killer, and Robin Hood! Oh, ye gods! and now to
+be crying against a post!
+
+"Father living?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Mother?"
+
+No answer.
+
+How well he knew that he loved his parents now! The mere mention of
+the word "mother" made him hysterical with woe. To have come within
+reach of his mother's loving arms, to have been folded to her breast!
+If he could only come within reach of her again!
+
+The other stood observing him with critical eyes, whistling all the
+time.
+
+"You seem to have had a considerable lot of water locked up tight. I
+should think you would have bust if you hadn't had a chance to let it
+go. What are you a-howling at? Crying for your mammy?"
+
+For answer Bertie turned with a sudden ferocity and struck at him
+savagely. But the blow was struck at random, and the other had no
+difficulty in avoiding it by stepping aside.
+
+"Hollo! don't you come that game again, or I'll show you how to use a
+bunch of fives."
+
+But Bertie showed no further signs of fight. It had only been an
+almost childish display of passionate spite at the other's coarse
+allusion to his "mammy"--the mother whom he was now so sure he loved
+so well. Even the passion of his tears died away into a whimper. He
+had not strength enough to continue in a passion long.
+
+"Are you hungry?" asked the other.
+
+"I'm starving!"
+
+"Ah, I've been hungry, and more than once, and it isn't nice. I
+shouldn't be surprised if you found it rather nasty, especially if you
+aren't used to it. Now, look here; let's have a look at you."
+
+He went close up to Bertie and looked him straight in the face with
+his keen, restless eyes. Bertie returned the look as well as he could
+with his tear-stained orbs.
+
+"You look a game 'un, somehow; and you look grit. I suppose it's
+feeling peckish you don't like. There's a lot of talk about courage
+what's always the same, but I don't believe there ever was a chap who
+kept up his pluck upon an empty belly. I've been hungry more than
+once. Now, look here; if I take you to a crib I know of, and set you
+up in vittles and a shake-down, will you keep your mouth shut fast?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean."
+
+"Oh, yes, you do; you're not so soft as that. If I act square with
+you, will you act square with me?"
+
+"I always do act square," said Bertie.
+
+"Very well, then, come along; if you do, then you're the sort for me.
+I did you a bad turn this morning, now I'll do you a good one to make
+up."
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XVI
+
+                          THE CAPTAIN'S ROOM
+
+
+Trusting himself to his companion's guidance, Bertie went where the
+other chose to take him. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+thought a good many times before he would have allowed himself to be
+led blindfold he knew not where; but tired, wet, cold, and so hungry,
+he resigned himself to circumstances. He could not possibly find
+himself in a worse position than his present one; at least, so it
+seemed to him. Certainly it had not been part of his plans to be a
+companion of thieves; but then nothing which had befallen him had been
+part of his plans.
+
+His companion led him to a court within a stone's throw of Drury Lane,
+and was just about to turn the corner when something caught his eyes.
+He walked straight on, taking Bertie with him.
+
+"There's a peeler. I don't want him to see me go down there; it isn't
+quite what I care for to let them gentry have their eyes upon my
+family mansion."
+
+What he meant Bertie failed to understand. He saw no one in sight to
+cause alarm, and indeed it almost seemed that his companion had eyes
+behind his head, for, as quickly appeared, the policeman was at their
+back some considerable distance off. They reached the entry to another
+court, and down this his companion strutted, as though he was anxious
+all the world should have their eyes upon him. But no sooner was he in
+than he slunk into a doorway.
+
+"Come in here, my bonny boy, and let the gentleman go past. He's
+taking a little walk for the benefit of his health, poor chap. They're
+always taking walks, them peelers are. I wish they'd stop at home; I
+really do."
+
+A measured tramp, tramp, tramp approached. The thief put his hand over
+Bertie's mouth as though he were fearful he would make a sound. The
+policeman reached the entry, paused a moment as if to peer into its
+depths, and then passed on. When he had gone the thief spoke again.
+
+"Good-bye, dear boy; sorry to lose you, but the best of friends must
+part. Come along, my rib-stone pippin; you and me'll go home to tea."
+
+Satisfied that the coast was clear, the two ventured out of the
+doorway, reached the open street again, and this time turned without
+hesitation into the court which they had passed before. It was unlit
+by any lamp, and was so narrow that it was not difficult to believe
+that a man standing on a roof on one side of the way might, if he were
+an active fellow, spring with a single bound on to the roof on the
+opposite side. Fortunately it was not long, the whole consisting of
+apparently not more than twelve or fifteen houses. At the extreme end
+Bertie's companion stopped.
+
+The place was a _cul-de-sac_. It ended in a dead wall. But on the
+other side of the wall towered a house of what, in such a
+neighbourhood, seemed unusual dimensions. The entrance proper was in
+another street, and the original architect had probably had no
+intention that an entry should be effected from where they were. In a
+recess in the wall, so hidden as to be invisible to Bertie in that
+light, and so placed as to appear to be a door opening into the last
+house in the court in which they actually stood, was an ancient wooden
+door, from which the paint had all disappeared owing to the action of
+time and weather. The two boys stood still for a moment, Bertie dimly
+wondering what was going to happen next. It seemed to him that he
+really was an actor in a dream at last--the strangest dream he had
+ever dreamed. Then the thief whistled a few lines of some uncouth
+melody in a low but singularly piercing tone. A pause again; then he
+gave four taps against the ancient wooden door, with a momentary pause
+between each one. Bertie had heard of mysterious methods of effecting
+entrances into mysterious houses, and had been charmed with them; but
+he concluded that they were perhaps better in theory than practice. He
+would not have liked to have been kept hanging about in the wet such
+an unconscionable length of time every time he wanted to go home.
+
+At last the door was opened--just as Bertie was beginning to think
+that the mysterious proceedings would have to be all gone through
+again.
+
+"Who's there?" inquired a husky voice.
+
+It seemed that after all the whistling and the tapping caution were
+required.
+
+"All right, mother; it's only me and a friend. Come on, Ikey; cut
+along inside."
+
+Bertie, thus addressed as "Ikey," was about to "cut along inside,"
+when he found the way barred by the old woman who acted as janitrix.
+She was a very unpleasant-looking old woman, old and grisly, and very
+much in want of soap and water: quite unpleasant-looking enough to be
+called a "hag"--and she smelt of gin. In her hand she carried a
+guttering tallow candle in a battered old tin candlestick. Hitherto
+she had held it behind her back, as if to conceal the presence of a
+light from passers-by. Now she raised it above her head so that its
+light might fall on Bertie's face. He thought he had never seen a more
+disagreeable-looking lady.
+
+"Who's the friend?"
+
+"What's that to you? He's a friend of mine, and square; that's quite
+enough for you. Come along, my pippin."
+
+The answer reminded Bertie of Sam Slater. Even then he wondered if he
+had not better, after all, trust himself to the tender mercies of the
+streets; but the other did not allow much time for hesitation. He
+caught Bailey by the arm, and half led, half dragged him up a flight
+of steep stone steps. The old woman with the candlestick sent after
+them what sounded very like a volley of imprecations, while she closed
+and locked and barred the door.
+
+The thief led the way into a fairly sized room, which was lighted by
+another tallow candle. The one which the old woman brought with her
+when she entered made the pair. There was no carpet on the floor,
+which was extremely dirty; a rickety deal table and four or five
+rickety chairs formed all the furniture. There was a bright fire
+burning in an antiquated fireplace, from which the ashes had
+apparently never been removed for months, and the atmosphere of the
+room was distinctly close.
+
+"What have you got to eat?" asked the thief, when the old woman
+reappeared.
+
+"You're always ready enough to eat, but you re not so ready to pay for
+what you've eaten. You boys is all the same; you'd rob an old woman of
+her teeth."
+
+The crone tottered to a cupboard in a corner of the room. The allusion
+to her teeth was not a happy one, for a solitary fang which protruded
+from her hideous jaws seemed to be all the teeth she still possessed.
+From the cupboard she produced a couple of chipped plates, a loaf of
+bread, and a piece of uncooked steak, which probably weighed several
+pounds. The thief's eyes glistened at sight of it.
+
+"That's the tuck! Cut me off a chunk, and I'll frizzle it in two
+threes."
+
+The old woman cut off a piece which weighed at least a pound and a
+half. A frying-pan was produced from some unexpected corner. The young
+rogue, disencumbering himself of his coat and waistcoat, immediately
+elected himself to the office of cook. A short dialogue took place
+between the old woman and himself while the cooking was going on.
+
+"What luck have you had?"
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"That means you ain't had none. Ah, Freddy, you ain't what you was.
+I've known you when you allays came home with your pockets full of
+pretty things."
+
+"You ain't what you was, neither."
+
+A pause. A savoury smell began to come from the frying-pan. The old
+woman turned her watery, bloodshot eyes to Bertie.
+
+"Who's your friend?"
+
+"Them who don't ask no questions don't get told no lies."
+
+"What's his lay?"
+
+"His lay's hitting old women in the eye; so now you know."
+
+The old woman shook her head, and mourned the decadence of the times.
+
+"Oh, them boys! them boys! When I was a young gal there weren't none
+of them boys in them there days! Times is changed."
+
+"And this steak's done! Now then, Ikey, make yourself alive and hand
+the plates."
+
+Without the interposition of a dish the steak was divided in the
+frying-pan, placed in two equal portions on the plates, and Bertie and
+the cook fell to.
+
+Epicures have it that a steak fried is a steak spoiled. Neither of
+those who ate that one would have agreed to the truth of the statement
+then. From the way in which they disposed of it, a finer, juicier, or
+more tender steak was never known. The old woman produced a jug of
+porter to wash it down. Freddy, as the old woman called the thief,
+did far more justice to this than Bertie did. With the aid of the
+dark-coloured liquid the whole pound and a half of meat rapidly
+disappeared, and with it the better part of a loaf as well.
+
+The old woman sat spectator of the feast.
+
+"There was a time when I could eat like that. It's over now a hundred
+years ago, but I mind it as though it were yesterday."
+
+"Go on! you're not a hundred years old!"
+
+"I'm a hundred and twenty-two next Tuesday week."
+
+Bertie stared, holding a mouthful of steak suspended on his fork in
+the air. A hundred and twenty-two! What was his tale of years compared
+to that? Freddy winked at him.
+
+"Yes, I daresay. You were a hundred and ninety-five yesterday, and
+sixty-two this morning. It's my belief you're about five and twenty."
+
+"Five and twenty! I daresay I look it, but I ain't. I'm more than
+that. I always did look a wild young thing."
+
+Freddy roared; anything looking less like five and twenty, or a "wild
+young thing," could scarcely be conceived. The old woman went placidly
+on.
+
+"I remember Jacky Sheppard, and Dicky Turpin, and Tommy King; they
+were all highwaymen in my young days."
+
+"I suppose you were a highwayman's wife?"
+
+"So I was; and they hung him the week after we were married. I went
+and saw him hung, and I've never seen a better hanging since. No, that
+I haven't. Times is changed since then."
+
+"But you ain't changed. I wonder you don't marry again, a wild young
+thing like you."
+
+"I ain't a marrying sort--not now I ain't. I've had ten of them, and
+that's quite enough for me."
+
+"Lor', no! What is ten?"
+
+"Ten's quite enough for one young woman, and when you've been two
+hundred and ninety times in prison a woman don't feel much like
+marrying again. It takes it out of her, it do."
+
+Bertie had ended his meal. The warmth and the food had given the
+finishing touch to his previous fatigue; his head was already nodding
+on his breast. He heard the old woman talking as in a dream. Ten
+husbands! two hundred and ninety times in jail! Were they part of his
+nightmare, the things which he heard her say?
+
+"Hollo, Ikey, you're blinking! Now then, mother, where are you going
+to put my pal? Can't you find a place where he can be alone?"
+
+Had Bertie been sufficiently wide awake he would have seen the speaker
+wink at the old woman.
+
+"There's only the captain's room."
+
+The woman's suggestion seemed to startle Freddy, and to set him
+thinking.
+
+"The captain's room? Where is the captain?"
+
+"How am I to know where he is or where he ain't? He don't tell me none
+of his goings on, none of you don't. He says to me he'd be four or
+five days away. That's all I know about it. Times is changed!"
+
+"Got the key?"
+
+"Of course I've got the key."
+
+"Then hand it over."
+
+The old woman produced a key from a voluminous pocket in her dress.
+
+"Now, Freddy, none of your tricks? He's on the square?"
+
+She pointed the key at Bertie, to show the allusion was to him. The
+young thief took the key away from her.
+
+"He's as square as you! Come along, Ikey! Mother, you stop there till
+I come back. I want to have a little talk to you."
+
+Taking up one of the candlesticks, the lad led the way out of the
+room. Bertie staggered, rather than walked, after him.
+
+The house seemed to be very old-fashioned and very large. There were a
+curious number of staircases, and passages, and turns and twists, and
+ins and outs, and ups and downs. As Bertie followed his companion's
+lead it all seemed to him as though it were part of his dream; as
+though the house was built in the fashion of a maze, and he were
+bidden to find his way about it blindfold.
+
+At last he found himself in a room, the door of which he was vaguely
+conscious his companion had unlocked. Although very far from being
+luxurious, it was better furnished than the one they had left. There
+was a piece of carpet on the floor; there were two or three
+substantial-looking chairs, a horsehair couch, an arm-chair, a table,
+a chest of drawers with a looking-glass on top, and in the corner an
+old-fashioned four-poster bed with the curtains drawn all round. The
+closely-drawn dirty dimity curtains made one wonder if it was occupied
+already, but Freddy showed that it was not by going to it and drawing
+the curtains aside.
+
+"There's a bed for you, my bonny boy! The Queen ain't got a better bed
+than that in Buckingham Palace; and if you have got a marquis for a
+pa, you ain't seen a better one, I know you ain't. That's the
+captain's bed, that is, and if he was to know I'd made you free of it
+he'd have a word to say. But as he's gone to see his grandma, and
+perhaps won't be back for ever so long, we needn't take no count of
+what he says."
+
+Tired as he was, Bertie was not by any means so prepossessed by the
+appearance of the bed as his companion seemed to be. It seemed to him
+just a trifle dirty, and more than a trifle the worse for wear. The
+beds at Mecklemburg House were even better, while the beds at home
+were things of beauty and joys for ever compared to this. But still it
+was a bed, and a bed is a bed; and especially was a bed a bed to him
+just then.
+
+Freddy waited while he undressed. He even watched him get between the
+sheets, and drew the curtains when he was there. Then he went and left
+Bertie to sleep in peace in the captain's room.
+
+And he slept in peace. Just such a dreamless slumber as he had enjoyed
+in the Kingston "doss-house," and it lasted at least as long. This
+young gentleman had over-calculated his strength, and had not supposed
+he would have been so quickly wearied on his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+When he awoke it was some minutes before he collected his thoughts
+sufficiently to understand his whereabouts. The rapidly-occurring
+incidents of the last day or two had bewildered a brain which was
+never very bright at best. Putting out his hand, he parted the
+curtains which hung about him like so many shrouds, and looked out.
+
+The room was filled with daylight; that is to say, as much filled as
+it probably ever was. The only window was a small one, and at such a
+height from the ground that Bertie would have needed to stand upon a
+chair to reach it even.
+
+Had he desired to imitate his escape from his Kingston hosts he would
+have found very much more difficulty in climbing from the window of
+the captain's room. But what interested him more than the peculiar
+position of the window was something which he saw on the chair beside
+his bed.
+
+This something was some bread and cheese, a couple of saveloys, and
+some stout in a jug. On the bread was a little scrap of paper. He took
+it up, and found that on it was written,--
+
+"Sleep it out, old pal!"
+
+This was short, and to the point. It was written on bad paper in worse
+writing; but what it meant was, probably, that Freddy, entering with
+refreshments, had found Bertie wrapt in slumber, and being unwilling
+to disturb him had left him there to sleep it out. Bertie ate and
+drank, and lying back again upon the captain's bed prepared to act
+upon the hint. And he did. He woke once or twice in the course of the
+day, but each time it was only for a minute or two, and each time he
+turned round and went to sleep again.
+
+But at last he woke for good--or ill, as it turned out, for he woke to
+be the victim of a series of adventures which were to nearly cost him
+his life, and which were to show him, better than anything else
+possibly could have done, that he had been like the silly little child
+who plays with fire and burns itself with the element it does not
+understand. He was a young gentleman who required a considerable
+amount of teaching before he would consent to write himself down an
+ass; but he was to get much more than the requisite amount of teaching
+now.
+
+Exactly the same thing happened as at Kingston. He awoke to hear the
+sound of voices in the room; and now, as then, the speakers were
+carrying on a conversation without having the slightest idea that they
+were being overheard.
+
+At first he could not distinguish the words which were being spoken.
+He only knew that there was some one speaking. At first he took it for
+granted that the speakers were the lad who had brought him to the
+house and the old woman he had nicknamed "Mother." But the delusion
+only lasted for a moment; he quickly perceived that the voices were
+voices he had never heard before, and that the speakers were two men.
+He perceived, too, that the day had apparently gone--he had slept it
+all away--and that the room was lighted by a lamp.
+
+So unconscious were the speakers of there being a listener that they
+made no attempt to lower their voices; and one in particular spoke
+with a strain of intense passion in his tones. His were the words
+which were the first which Bertie heard.
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! Fifty thousand pounds! Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+The speaker repeated the words over and over again, bursting into a
+peal of laughter at the end. Another voice replied--a colder and more
+measured one. The new speaker spoke with a strong nasal accent. Bertie
+was not wise enough to know that by his speech he betrayed himself to
+be that new thing in nationalities, a German American.
+
+"Steady, my friend; fifty thousand pounds in jewels are not fifty
+thousand pounds in cash, especially when the jewels are such as
+these."
+
+The other went on unheeding.
+
+"Talk about punting on the Stock Exchange! There are precious few
+punters on the Stock Exchange who pick up fifty thousand pounds and
+walk off with it at a single coup."
+
+"And, also, there are very few punters on the Stock Exchange who would
+run the risk of getting penal servitude for life for doing it."
+
+"Yes, there's that to be considered."
+
+"As you say, there's that to be considered."
+
+"Do you think they'd make it penal servitude for life?"
+
+"I think it extremely probable, with your past history and mine."
+
+"Suppose it came to penal servitude for life, what then?"
+
+"Exactly! That is the question to be asked--'What then?'"
+
+"The Countess of Ferndale's jewels! lying on the table in front of me!
+and in my time I've run the risk of being sent to prison for a
+pocket-handkerchief."
+
+"But in that case you did not run the risk, my friend, of penal
+servitude for life, eh?'
+
+"Rosenheim, what are you driving at? Why do you keep harping upon that
+string? Do you think they'll nab us?"
+
+"They will have a very good try."
+
+"They have tried before and failed."
+
+"They have also tried before and--not failed."
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! The finest set of jewels in England! insured
+for fifty thousand pounds--and that's a lot less than they cost--and
+we've got the insurance policy and the jewels too! Ha! ha! ha! Should
+we present the policy?"
+
+"We will be generous and return them that. Or, better still, we will
+keep the policy in case that anything should happen. Holding it, we
+might make terms with some one. There have such things been done, eh?"
+
+"Fifty thousand pounds! and they cost perhaps a hundred thousand in
+their time! Did you ever see such a necklace? Those diamonds remind me
+of fairy tales which I have read--if I were to put the lamp out they'd
+light the room."
+
+"Yes; but we will not put the lamp out, for fear some of the jewels
+should be lost--which would be a pity, eh?"
+
+"Did you ever see anything like those diamonds? See how they are
+flashing in the lamp-light--now look at them!"
+
+Bertie thought that he might as well look too. He peeped through the
+curtains of the bed to see what was going on. He felt a not unnatural
+curiosity, for what he had heard had made him open both his eyes and
+ears. Fifty thousand pounds! The repetition of this sum had a
+startling effect.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XVII
+
+                          TWO MEN AND A BOY
+
+
+There was a lamp on the table. The fire was lighted in the grate; the
+table was drawn close up in front of it. The couch was beside the
+table, and on it a man reclined full length. The head was turned
+towards Bertie, so that he only had a back view of the person lying
+down. He could see that he had brown hair, worn rather long, and that
+he was smoking a cigar, and that was all he could see.
+
+By the table, standing so that his face was turned towards Bertie, was
+another man--evidently the impetuous speaker. He was about the middle
+height, slight, yet sinewy, with coal-black hair cut very short, and a
+dark olive skin, his face being concealed by neither moustache nor
+beard. He was holding something in his hands, something which he eyed
+with ravenous eyes. From his position Bertie was not able to perceive
+what this something was, but he could see that the table was littered
+with other articles, and that a roll of paper and two boxes of a
+peculiar shape lay open on the floor.
+
+The dark man was holding the something in his hands in a variety of
+positions, so that he might get the full effect from different points
+of view.
+
+"Did you ever see such stones?"
+
+"They are not bad, considering. Their value consists in their number,
+my dear friend. Separate stones of better quality can be found."
+
+"How much do you say we shall get for it?"
+
+"That remains to be seen. If you ask me how much it cost I should say,
+probably, altogether, twenty thousand pounds."
+
+Twenty thousand pounds! The dark man was holding in his hand something
+which cost twenty thousand pounds. Curiosity was too much for Bertie's
+discretion. The magnitude of the sum had so startling an effect on his
+bump of inquisitiveness that before he knew it he was trying his best
+to see what surprising thing it was which had cost twenty thousand
+pounds. Half-unconsciously he quitted the security of the bed, and
+standing in his shirt bare-legged on the floor he strained his eyes to
+see.
+
+Just then the dark man moved into such a position that the unexpected
+spectator was yet unable to see what it was he held. It was
+aggravating, but what followed was rather more aggravating still.
+
+"Fancy wearing a thing like that! I wonder how I should look with
+twenty thousand pounds worth of diamonds round my neck."
+
+He put his hand up to his neck, clasping round it what seemed to
+Bertie a line of glittering light. Then he turned, probably with the
+intention of studying the effect in the looking-glass, and, turning,
+he saw Bertie.
+
+For a moment there was silence--silence so complete that you could
+have heard much fainter sounds than the fall of the proverbial pin.
+The man was apparently thunderstruck, as well he might be. He stared
+at the figure in the shirt as though it were that of one risen from
+the dead. As for Bertie, his feet seemed glued to the floor, and his
+tongue to the roof of his mouth. It suddenly dawned upon him that it
+would have perhaps been better if he had stayed in bed.
+
+The man was the first to regain his self-possession. It was to be a
+very long time indeed before Bertie was to be again master of his.
+
+"What the something are you?"
+
+At the sound of his companion's voice, the man on the sofa sprang to
+his feet as though he had been shot. He gave one quick glance; then,
+snatching up a revolver which lay upon the table, he fired at the
+frightened boy.
+
+"Rosenheim!"
+
+At the very moment of pulling the trigger the dark man struck up his
+arm, so that the bullet was buried in the ceiling. But the effect upon
+Bertie was just as though it had penetrated his heart--he fell like a
+log.
+
+"He's only a boy. You've shot him."
+
+"I have not shot him. That I will do in a minute or two."
+
+When Bertie recovered from his swoon the dark man was bending over
+him. His companion was sitting in a chair regarding him with cold,
+staring eyes--a long, thin man, with a slight moustache and beard, and
+a peculiarly cruel cast of countenance.
+
+The dark man was the first to address him.
+
+"So you've come too, have you? Perhaps it's a pity, after all. It'll
+only prolong your misery. Now stand up, put your hands behind your
+back, and look me in the face."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid, feeling very weak and tottering on his feet.
+The dark man was perched on the edge of the table, holding a revolver
+in his hand. His companion, the long, thin man who sat in the chair,
+held a revolver too. Bertie felt that his position was not an
+agreeable one. Of one thing he was conscious, that the table was
+cleared of its contents, and that the roll of paper and boxes which he
+had noticed on the floor had disappeared.
+
+The dark man commenced the cross-examination, handling his revolver in
+a way which was peculiarly unpleasant, as though it were a toy which
+he was anxious to have a little practice with.
+
+"Look me in the face."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid as best he could, though he found it
+difficult to meet the keen black eyes.
+
+"He needn't look me in the face, or I'll put five shots inside of
+him."
+
+This was from the long, thin man. Bertie was careful not to show the
+slightest symptom of a desire to turn that way. The dark man went on.
+
+"Do you know what truth is? If you don't it'll be a pity, because if
+you tell me so much as the millionth part of a lie I'll empty my
+revolver into you where you stand."
+
+As if to emphasize this genial threat the dark man pointed his
+revolver point-blank at his head.
+
+"I'm on that line. I'll empty mine inside him too."
+
+Bertie was conscious that the long, thin man was following his
+companion's lead. A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him
+within three feet of his head. He felt more anxious to tell the truth,
+even though under difficulties, than he had ever been in all his life.
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Bertie Bailey."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I--I don't know!"
+
+Bertie very certainly didn't. If he could only have undreamt his
+dreams about the Land of Golden Dreams how happy had he been.
+
+"Oh, you don't know. Who brought you here?"
+
+"Freddy."
+
+"Freddy? Do you mean Faking Fred?"
+
+"If you please, sir, I--I don't know. The old woman called him
+Freddy."
+
+"Oh, the old woman had a finger in the pie, had she? I'll have a
+finger in her pie before I've done, and Freddy's too. So you've been
+sleeping in my bed?"
+
+"Please, sir, I--I didn't know it was your bed."
+
+"Turn round to me."
+
+As this command came from the long, thin man--he had apparently
+changed his mind about being looked in the face--Bertie turned with
+the celerity with which a teetotum turns.
+
+"Where do you live?"
+
+"At Upton, sir."
+
+ [Illustration: "A couple of revolvers were being pointed at him."]
+
+_A Hero of Romance_.]                           [_Page_ 238.
+
+ "Where's that?"
+
+"In Berkshire."
+
+"You're not a thief?"
+
+"No--o, sir."
+
+In his present society Bertie positively felt ashamed to own it. He
+perhaps felt that these gentlemen might resent it as a slight upon
+their profession.
+
+"Have you run away from home?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Fu--fun, sir."
+
+"A good thing to run away for."
+
+Bertie felt that it was a bad thing just then, especially if this sort
+of thing might be looked upon in the light of fun.
+
+"What's your father?"
+
+"A doctor, sir."
+
+"So you're the son of Dr. Bailey, of Upton, in Berkshire?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"Turn round again!--sharp!"
+
+No one could have turned round sharper than Bertie did then. The dark
+man took up the questioning.
+
+"How long have you been awake?"
+
+"I--I don't know, sir."
+
+"Did you hear what we were talking about?"
+
+"Ye--es, sir."
+
+"What did you hear?"
+
+"I--I don't know."
+
+"That won't do. Out with it! What did you hear?"
+
+The revolver was brought on a level with Bertie's face. With his eyes
+apparently doing their best to investigate the contents of the barrel
+he endeavoured to describe what he had heard.
+
+"I--I heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, and--and about
+fifty thousand pounds."
+
+"Oh! you did, did you? And what did you hear about the Countess of
+Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+"I heard that you had--stolen them."
+
+"Is that so? You seem to be gifted with uncommonly good hearing,
+Master Bailey. What else did you hear? Go on."
+
+"I--I heard that they were insured for fifty thousand pounds, and--and
+that--that you'd stolen the policy."
+
+"Dear me! What a remarkably fine ear this boy must have! Go on, young
+man!"
+
+Bertie was painfully conscious that these compliments upon his hearing
+were not to be taken as they were spoken. He earnestly wished that his
+hearing had not been quite so good, but with that revolver staring him
+in the face he felt that perhaps it was better on the whole he should
+go on. Yet the next confession was made with an effort. He felt that
+his audience would not receive it well.
+
+"I--I--I heard that if--if you were ta--taken you--you would get
+pe--penal servitude for life."
+
+There was an ominous silence. The words had had exactly the effect he
+had intuitively expected. It was the long, thin man who spoke.
+
+"Oh! you heard that if we were caught we should get penal servitude
+for life? And it didn't occur to you that you might help to catch us,
+eh?"
+
+"No-o, sir."
+
+"It wouldn't. Now wouldn't it occur to you that such a thing as a
+reward might perhaps be offered, which it might perhaps be worth your
+while to handle, eh? That such a trifle as five or ten thousand
+pounds, in the shape of a reward, might come in useful, eh?"
+
+Bertie did not answer. He could not have answered for his life. The
+fellow's tone seemed to freeze his blood. The dark man put a question.
+
+"Did you hear any names mentioned?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What name did you hear mentioned?"
+
+"I heard you call this gentleman Rosenheim, sir."
+
+In an instant a hand was round his neck, which grasped him as though
+it were made of steel. There was a sudden twist, and Mr. Rosenheim had
+flung the lad upon his back. The grasp tightened; he began to choke.
+If Mr. Rosenheim had been allowed to work his own sweet will it would
+have been over with him there and then. But the dark man interfered.
+
+"What's the use of killing him?"
+
+The answer was hissed rather than spoken.
+
+"I'll tell you what's the use; it is I who will put him away, not he
+who will put me away, eh?"
+
+"Leave him alone for a minute; I want to speak to you. It's a
+nuisance, but I don't think it's so bad as you think. Anyhow, I don't
+see how we're going to gain anything by killing the boy--at least, not
+in here."
+
+There was a meaning conveyed in the speaker's last few words which Mr.
+Rosenheim seemed to understand. They looked at each other for a
+moment, eye to eye. Then Mr. Rosenheim, standing up, loosed his grasp
+on Bertie's throat, and the lad was free to breathe again.
+
+"Get up; walk to the end of the room, put your hands behind your back,
+shut your eyes, and stand with your face to the wall. I'm going to
+cover you with my revolver, and if you move it'll be for the very last
+time of asking, for I'll shoot you as dead as mutton. Sharp's the
+word!"
+
+Sharp was the word. Bewildered, half-stunned, panic-stricken as he
+was, Bertie had still sense enough to know that he had no alternative
+but to do as he was bid. The dark man meant what he said, and the
+youthful admirer of Dick Turpin knew it. The ever-ready revolver
+covered him as he walked quickly down the room, and took up the
+ignominious position he was ordered to. Hands behind his back, eyes
+shut, and his face against the wall! It was worse than standing in the
+corner at Mecklemburg House Collegiate School, and only little boys
+had been sent into the corner there.
+
+How long he remained standing there he never knew. It seemed to him
+hours. But time goes slowly when we stand with our hands behind, eyes
+shut, face to the wall, and know that a revolver is taking deliberate
+aim at us behind our backs. A minute becomes an hour, and we feel that
+old age will overtake us prematurely if we stand there long. They say
+that when a man is drowning his whole life passes in a moment before
+his eyes. As Bailey stood with his face against the wall he felt
+something of that feeling too, and if ever there was a veritable Land
+of Golden Dreams his home at Upton was that land then. If he could
+only stand again within the shadow of his mother's door, ah, what a
+different young gentleman he would be!
+
+Certainly, Mr. Rosenheim and his friend took their time. What they
+said Bertie could not hear, strain his ears how he might. The sound of
+their subdued whispering added to the terror of the situation. What
+might they not be resolving? For all he knew, they might be both
+examining their revolvers with a view of taking alternate pops at him.
+The idea was torture. As the moments passed and still no sign was made
+his imagination entered into details. There was a movement behind him.
+He fancied they were taking their positions. Silence again. He waited
+for the shooting to begin. He wondered where the first shot would hit
+him. Somewhere, he fancied, about the region of the left knee. That
+would probably bring him to the ground, and the second and third shots
+would hit him where he fell--probably in the side. The fourth and
+fifth shots would miss, but the sixth would carry away his nose, while
+the seventh would finish his career. Promiscuous shooting would ensue,
+the details of which would have no interest for him, but for some
+occult reason he decided that they would not cease firing until they
+had put inside him about a couple of pounds of lead.
+
+In the midst of these agreeable speculations it was a relief to hear
+the dark man's voice.
+
+"Turn round!"
+
+Bertie turned round, with surprising velocity.
+
+"Where are your clothes?"
+
+"I think they're on the bed, sir."
+
+"Put them on! Sharp's the word!"
+
+Sharp always was the word. Bertie had done some quick things in
+dressing before to-day, but never anything quite so quick as that. Mr.
+Rosenheim was sitting in the arm-chair, still fondling his revolver,
+eyeing Bertie with a most uncomfortable pair of eyes. When Bertie
+found that in his haste he was putting on his trousers hind side
+foremost Mr. Rosenheim gave a start. Bertie gave one too, a cold
+shiver went down his back, and the time in which he reversed the
+garment and got inside his breeches was perhaps the best on record.
+
+The dark man meanwhile was brushing his hat, putting on his overcoat,
+and apparently preparing himself for a journey. There was a Gladstone
+bag on the table. Into this he put several articles which he took from
+the chest of drawers. Bertie had completed his own costume for some
+little time before either spoke.
+
+It was Mr. Rosenheim who addressed him first.
+
+"Come here!"
+
+Bertie went with remarkable celerity. "For a doctor's son, my friend,
+you are not too well dressed, eh?"
+
+Bertie hung his head; he was conscious of the defects in his attire.
+The dark man flung him a clothes-brush.
+
+"Brush yourself, and make yourself presentable. There's a jug and
+basin behind that curtain; wash yourself and brush your hair."
+
+Bertie did as he was bid; never had he been so docile.
+
+It was the most uncomfortable toilet he had ever made. When he had
+carefully soaped his face all over, and was about to wash it off
+again, there was a report. A shot whistled through the air and buried
+itself in the wall about a foot above his head. He dropped as though
+it had struck him, and all but repeated his former swoon.
+
+"You can get up, my friend. It is only a little practice I am having."
+
+Bertie got up, but the pleasure of that wash was destroyed for him.
+Mr. Rosenheim's ideas of revolver practice were so peculiar that he
+was in momentary terror of his aiming at an imaginary bull's-eye in
+the centre of his back.
+
+"How long are you going to be? Come here and let me have a look at
+you."
+
+Though only half-dried, the soap-suds still remaining in the corners
+of his eyes, Bertie obeyed the dark man's order and stood in front of
+him. That gentleman still held the too-familiar revolver in his hand.
+It had long been the secret longing of Bertie's soul to possess one of
+his own; henceforward he would hate the sight of the too-agile arm for
+evermore.
+
+"You don't look like a doctor's son. Own up you lied."
+
+"I--I didn't, sir."
+
+"A pretty sort of doctor's son you look! Has your father any money?"
+
+A wild idea entered Bertie's brain. He remembered how Mr. and Mrs.
+Jenkins had risen to the bait.
+
+"Ye--yes, sir; he's very rich. He'd give a thousand pounds to get me
+back again."
+
+But this time the bait failed, and signally.
+
+"Oh, he would, would he? Then he must be about the most remarkable
+fool of a father I ever came across. Don't you try to stuff your lies
+down my throat, my joker, because I'm a liar myself, and know the
+smell. You listen to me. You'd better; because if you don't listen to
+every word, and stick it inside your head, it'll be a case of
+shooting, though I'm hung for you five minutes after. Do you hear?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"My name's Captain Loftus. Do you hear that?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"And I'm your uncle--your Uncle Tom. Do you hear that? I'm your Uncle
+Tom."
+
+"Ye--yes, sir."
+
+"Don't say 'sir,' say 'Uncle Tom.'"
+
+"Ye--yes, Un--Uncle Tom."
+
+"And don't you stutter and stammer; there's no stuttering and
+stammering about this."
+
+"This" was the revolver which "Uncle Tom" pointed in his playful way
+at his nephew.
+
+"And you've been a bad boy, and you've run away from your poor mother,
+and I'm going to take you back again. You understand?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir--I mean, Uncle Tom."
+
+"Mind you do mean 'Uncle Tom,' and don't let us have any fooling about
+it. Do you hear? Don't let's have any fooling about it."
+
+"No--o, Uncle Tom."
+
+How devoutly he hoped that what his "uncle" said was true, and that he
+was going to be taken back to his mother. But the hope was shattered
+by the words which followed.
+
+"Now just you listen to me. I've got half a dozen more words to say,
+and they're the pick of the lot. I'm going to take you with me. You'll
+be all right so long as you keep your mouth shut; but if you speak a
+word without permission from me, or if you hint anyhow at the pleasant
+little conversation we've had here, I'll shoot you on the spot. You
+see, I'm going to put my revolver into the inside pocket of my coat;
+it will be always there, and always ready for you, and mind you don't
+forget it."
+
+Bertie was not likely to forget it. He watched the captain placing the
+weapon in a convenient inner pocket of his overcoat with an interest
+too deep for words. Mr. Rosenheim added an agreeable little remark of
+his own.
+
+"You understand, my friend? You are to dismiss from your mind any
+little ideas you may have had about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels,
+or your uncle, Captain Tom Loftus, will practise a little revolver
+shooting upon you, eh, my friend?"
+
+And Mr. Rosenheim covered the lad with his own revolver. There was
+such an absolutely diabolical grin upon the gentleman's face that
+Bertie felt as though his blood had congealed in his veins. The
+revolver might go off at any moment, and this time it would be a case
+of hitting. Bertie was persuaded that one more of Mr. Rosenheim's
+little practice shots would be quite enough for him.
+
+The change from Mr. Rosenheim to Captain Loftus was actually a relief.
+
+"Are you ready?"
+
+"Ye--yes, sir!"
+
+"_Sir?_"
+
+The "sir" was shouted in a voice of thunder, and the captain's hand
+moved towards the inner pocket of his coat.
+
+"Un--Uncle Tom, I mean."
+
+"And you better mean it too, and say it, or you'll never say another
+word. Put your hat on. Catch hold of that Gladstone."
+
+Bertie put his hat on, and took the bag. The captain turned to Mr.
+Rosenheim.
+
+"Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, my friend; I wish you a pleasant journey, and your nephew
+too."
+
+The captain put his own hat on, took Bertie's hand, led him out of the
+room, and almost before the lad knew it they were standing in the
+street. Bertie thanked his stars that at least Mr. Rosenheim was left
+behind.
+
+
+
+
+                            Chapter XVIII
+
+                            THE BOAT-TRAIN
+
+
+They did not leave the house by the same mysterious door by which
+Freddy had entered, but by one which brought them at once into a busy
+street. Vehicles were passing to and fro, and they had not gone many
+steps before the captain--to give him the title which he had not
+improbably himself affixed to his name--called a hansom. Bertie got
+in. The captain directed the driver where to drive in an undertone,
+seated himself beside his "nephew," and they were off.
+
+During the drive not a word was spoken. Where they were going Bertie
+had not the faintest notion; he felt pretty certain that he was not
+really being taken home. His head was in a whirl; he was in such awe
+of his companion that he scarcely dared to move, far less to use his
+eyes in an endeavour to see where they were going. The cab almost
+immediately turned into a busy thoroughfare. The hubbub of the traffic
+and the confusion of the crowded streets completed the lad's
+bewilderment, making it seem to him as though they were journeying
+through pandemonium. The busy thoroughfare into which the cabman
+turned was, in fact, the Strand--the Strand at what is not the least
+busy hour of the day, when the people are crowding into the theatres.
+The cabman took another turn into comparative quiet, and in another
+minute they were whirling over Waterloo Bridge, along Waterloo Bridge
+Road, into the huge terminus of the South-Western Railway. A porter
+came forward to help them to alight, but the captain, dismissing him,
+took his bag with one hand, and taking Bertie's own hand in the other,
+stepped on to the platform of the station.
+
+He had only taken a few steps when, pulling up, he spoke to Bailey in
+low, quick, significant tones.
+
+"Look here, my lad; I don't want to haul you about as though I'd got
+you in custody, and I don't mean to let you get out of my sight. I'm
+going to loose your hand, and let you walk alone. Carry this bag, and
+stick as close to me as wax, or----"
+
+A significant tap against the pocket which contained the revolver
+served to complete the sentence. Bertie needed no explanation in
+words; the action was as full of meaning as any eloquence of speech
+could possibly have been.
+
+The hansom had put them down at the departure platform of the
+main-line trains. The captain looked at the station clock as they came
+in, and Bertie, following the direction of the other's eye, saw that
+it was a quarter-past nine. The station was full of people; porters
+and passengers were hurrying hither and thither, mountains of baggage
+were passing to and fro.
+
+The captain turned into the booking-office, Bertie sticking close to
+his side. Some wild idea of making a dash for freedom did enter his
+mind, but to be dismissed as soon as it entered. What could he do? He
+was fully persuaded that if he were to make the slightest sign of
+attempting to escape, his companion would shoot him on the spot. But
+even if he did not proceed to quite such extreme lengths, what then?
+To have attempted to take to actual flight, and to have run for it,
+would have been absurd. He would have been caught in an instant. His
+only hope lay in an appeal to those around him. But what sort of
+appeal could he have made? If he had suddenly shouted, "This man has
+stolen the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, worth fifty thousand
+pounds!" no doubt he would have created a sensation. But the revolver!
+Bertie was quite persuaded that before he would have had time to have
+made his assertion good the captain would have put his threat into
+execution, and killed him like a cat, even though, to use that
+gentleman's own words, he had had to hang for it five minutes
+afterwards.
+
+No; it seemed to him that the only course open to him was to obey the
+captain's instructions.
+
+There was a crowd round the ticket-office, at sight of which the
+captain put the lad in front of him, and his hand upon his shoulder,
+holding him tight by means of the free use of an uncomfortable amount
+of pressure. Under these circumstances he could scarcely ask for
+tickets without the lad hearing what it was he asked for--as in fact
+he did.
+
+"Two first for Jersey."
+
+Two first-class tickets for Jersey! The tickets were stamped and paid
+for, and they were out of the crowd again. It was some satisfaction to
+know where it was they were going, but not much. He was too evidently
+not being taken home again. Jersey and Upton were a good many miles
+apart.
+
+The captain went up and down the train with the apparent intention of
+discovering a compartment which they might have for themselves. But if
+that was his intention he sought in vain. The tourist season had
+apparently set in early, and on this particular night the train was
+crowded. They finally found seats in a compartment in which there were
+already two passengers, and into which there quickly came two more. It
+was a smoking carriage; and as the other passengers were already
+smoking, and the captain lit a cigar as soon as he entered, the
+atmosphere soon became nice and fresh for Bertie. Five smoking
+passengers in a first-class compartment do not make things exactly
+pleasant for a non-smoking sixth. The captain took a corner seat;
+Bertie sat on the middle seat next to him, right in the centre of the
+smoke.
+
+They started. All the passengers, with the exception of the captain
+and Bertie, had books or papers. For a time silence reigned. The
+passengers read, the captain thought, the lad lamented. If the train
+had only been speeding towards Slough instead of Jersey! It may be
+mentioned that at this point of the expedition Bertie was not even
+aware where Jersey was, and was not even conscious that to reach it
+from London one had to cross the sea.
+
+As they passed Woking the silence was broken for a moment. A tall,
+thin, severe-looking gentleman, with side whiskers, and a sealskin cap
+tied over his ears, having finished with the _Globe_, handed it to the
+captain.
+
+"Have you seen the _Globe_?"
+
+"Thank you, I haven't."
+
+The captain took it, and began to read. Almost without intending it
+Bertie watched him. For some reason, though he could scarcely have
+told what it was, for the reader gave no outward signs of anything of
+the kind, he was persuaded that the paper contained something which
+the captain found of startling interest. He saw the captain stare with
+peculiar fixedness at one paragraph, never taking his eyes off it for
+at least five minutes. He even thought that the captain's lips were
+twitching, that the captain's face grew pale. As if perceiving the
+inspection and resenting it, he drew the paper closer to him, so that
+it concealed his countenance.
+
+As they were nearing Aldershot and Farnham a little conversation was
+commenced which had a peculiar interest for Bertie, if for no one else
+in the compartment.
+
+In the opposite corner, at the other end of the carriage, was seated a
+stout old gentleman, with a very red face and very white hair. He wore
+a gorgeous smoking-cap, which was stuck at the back of his head, and
+there was something about his appearance and demeanour which impressed
+the beholder with the fact that this was a gentleman of strong
+opinions.
+
+In front of him was a thin young gentleman with a pale face, who
+puffed at a big meerschaum pipe as though he did not exactly like it.
+He was reading a novel with a yellow back, which all the world could
+perceive was _The Adventures of Harry Lorrequer_. The old gentleman
+had been reading the _Evening Standard_ through a pair of gold glasses
+of the most imposing size and pattern.
+
+He had apparently finished with his paper, for he lowered it and
+stared through his glasses at the thin young man in front of him. The
+thin young man did not seem to be made the more comfortable by his
+gaze.
+
+"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+This was said in loud, magisterial tones, which commanded the
+attention of the whole compartment. The young man seemed startled.
+Bertie was startled; he almost thought he saw the _Globe_ tremble in
+the captain's hands.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
+
+This was said in tones rather louder and more magisterial than at
+first.
+
+"No! No! I haven't!"
+
+"Then, sir, I say it's a disgrace to the country."
+
+Whether it was a disgrace to the country that the thin young man had
+not heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels was not quite clear.
+The thin young man seemed to think it was, for he turned pink.
+However, the old gentleman went on,--
+
+"Here's a noble lady, the wife of one of the greatest English peers,
+returning from personal attendance upon her sovereign, bearing with
+her jewels of almost priceless value, and they disappear from
+underneath her nose. I say it's a disgrace to the country, sir!"
+
+The thin young man seemed relieved. It was evidently not his want of
+knowledge which was a disgrace to the country, but the disappearance
+of the lady's jewels. Bertie pricked up his ears; the captain gave no
+sign of having heard.
+
+The young man ventured on a question.
+
+"How's that? Have they been stolen?"
+
+"How's that, sir! Stolen, sir! I should think they have been stolen!"
+
+The words were spoken with almost volcanic force. All the carriage
+began to take an interest in what was being said--excepting always
+"Uncle Tom."
+
+The old gentleman grasped his paper with his right hand, and
+emphasized his words with the first finger of his left.
+
+"At half-past two this afternoon the Countess of Ferndale, who
+has been in attendance at Windsor Castle, started from Windsor
+to London. Windsor, sir, is at a distance of twenty-two miles from
+town--twenty-two miles; no more. The traffic between that place and
+London, sir, is extremely large; and yet, travelling on that short
+strip of railway, in one of Her Majesty's own state coaches----"
+
+"I don't think it was in one of the Queen's own coaches she was
+travelling."
+
+"No; it wasn't."
+
+The first interruption came from the severe-looking gentleman who had
+lent the Captain the _Globe_; the second from a placid-looking
+gentleman with black whiskers, who sat beside him in front of Bertie.
+
+"Well, sir, and what difference does that make?"
+
+"None at all, perhaps, to the main issue," the severe gentleman
+allowed. "It's only a statement of fact."
+
+"Well, sir, supposing it is a statement of fact, which, as at present
+advised, I am not prepared to allow, I suppose I may take it for
+granted that she was travelling in a compartment which was exclusively
+reserved for her own use?"
+
+"That, I believe, was the case."
+
+"Well, sir, travelling on that short strip of railway, in a
+compartment exclusively reserved for her own use, what happens in this
+England of the nineteenth century? It is incredible! monstrous! She
+had with her certain family jewels of almost priceless value. She had
+been wearing them in Her Majesty's own presence. They were in the
+charge of certain officers of her household; and yet, when she comes
+to the end of that journey of two and twenty miles, they were gone,
+sir!--gone! vanished into air!"
+
+"No! If they were stolen, he must have been a jolly clever thief,"
+observed the thin young man.
+
+"A jolly clever thief!" said, or rather roared the stout old
+gentleman. "You speak of the author of such an outrage as a jolly
+clever thief. If I had the miscreant within reach of my hand"--the
+stout old gentleman stretched out his hand, and the thin young man
+shrank out of the way--"I should consider myself justified in striking
+him down, and trampling the life out of his wretched carcass. I should
+consider the doer of such an act deserved well of his country, sir!"
+
+Bertie felt a cold shiver go down his back. He pictured the stout old
+gentleman striking him down, and trampling the life out of his
+wretched carcass. At that moment he almost felt as though he had been
+guilty of the crime; he almost expected the stout old gentleman to
+read his guilt upon his countenance, and conclude the business there
+and then. As for the captain--the least that Bertie expected him to do
+was to open the door and, without waiting for such a small detail
+as the stopping of the train, disappear into the night. What he
+actually did was to return the _Globe_, with a courteous bow, to the
+severe-looking gentleman, carefully cross his knees, and light a
+fresh cigar. Then he listened to what was being said with an air of
+placid interest.
+
+"What was the value of the jewels?" inquired the gentleman with the
+black whiskers.
+
+"Priceless! priceless! How can you value jewels which have been in the
+possession of a noble family for generations? which are family
+heirlooms?"
+
+"I suppose they must be pretty well known, in which case the thieves
+will find considerable difficulty in getting rid of their spoil."
+
+"Getting rid of their spoil! Is it conceivable that such villains are
+to be allowed to get rid of their spoil, to sell it, and fatten on the
+proceeds?"
+
+"Very conceivable, indeed, unless something is done to stop them."
+
+The stout old gentleman was so affected by the idea of the countess's
+jewels being brought into the market in such an ignoble way that words
+failed him, and he gasped for breath.
+
+During all this time Bertie's sensations were indescribable. He felt
+as though he were under the power of some hideous spell. He would have
+given anything to have been able to spring up and denounce the
+miscreant who had wrought this crime. There would have been something
+worthy of a hero in that; but he could not do it, he was spellbound.
+Perhaps the consciousness of the revolver which was in the captain's
+pocket had something to do with his state of mind; but it was not only
+that, he was paralysed by the position itself--by the knowledge that
+his own act had made him the companion of such a rogue.
+
+Just at the moment the captain raised his hand, as if by chance, and
+tapped the inner pocket of his coat. Slight though the action was,
+Bertie saw it, and he shuddered. But there was worse to follow.
+
+The remark was made by the severe-looking gentleman.
+
+"What strikes me is, how was the theft performed? Those in charge of
+the box swear that it was never out of their sight. When they started
+the jewels were in it; when they reached their journey's end they were
+gone. They couldn't have been spirited away."
+
+"The boxes were changed."
+
+Bertie felt that his heart had ceased to beat. The words were spoken
+by "Uncle Tom."
+
+It was the first time he had opened his lips. The eyes of all in the
+carriage were fixed upon him. He was seated, apparently quite at his
+ease, a cigar in his mouth, one hand upon his knee, and, as he spoke,
+with the other he undid the top button of his overcoat.
+
+"How could they be changed? Those in charge state that they never lost
+sight of the particular box in which the jewels were."
+
+The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a wreath
+of smoke.
+
+"I have a theory of my own upon the subject."
+
+"And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you mean to
+tell me such a trick as that could have been played in the light of
+day?"
+
+This was from the stout old gentleman.
+
+"Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was done. I
+have only suggested a theory. Of course you are at liberty to accept
+it or reject it, as you please."
+
+"I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next June, and
+I know perfectly well that no such trick would be played on me."
+
+"You are, probably, a person of peculiar acumen."
+
+But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.
+
+"As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps you
+have a theory of how the robbers might be caught."
+
+"I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that, if it
+were made worth my while, I would engage to find the thieves."
+
+"Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's while
+to find a thief?"
+
+"Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to find
+the thieves?"
+
+"If I knew where they were."
+
+"Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if they
+were found you would give them into custody, but you have to find them
+first. People don't go thief-hunting from motives of pure
+philanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it worth his
+while."
+
+"May I ask if you are an amateur detective?" inquired the
+severe-looking gentleman.
+
+"I shouldn't call myself quite that," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing with
+crime?"
+
+"It has been the study of my life," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"I suppose that it is a very interesting study?"
+
+"Very interesting indeed."
+
+"If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has been
+your own experience that such a study improves the moral nature of a
+man?"
+
+"Quite the reverse," said "Uncle Tom."
+
+"You are frank."
+
+"What is life unless you are?" asked "Uncle Tom."
+
+The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to slow.
+
+"I think this is Southampton," said the thin young man.
+
+And it was.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XIX
+
+                        TO JERSEY WITH A THIEF
+
+
+The night's boat was the _Ella_. When the train drew to a standstill
+and the passengers got out Bertie supposed that their journey was at
+an end. His ideas as to the whereabouts of Jersey were very vague
+indeed. He was surprised, therefore, when the captain, taking his
+hand, led him along the gangway to the boat. The stars were shining
+brightly overhead, but midnight never is quite as light as noon, and
+in the uncertain light he could neither see nor understand where it
+was that they were going.
+
+The captain led him to the hurricane deck, and then he paused. Then he
+led Bertie to a seat.
+
+"This will be your bed to-night. I don't choose to go into the cabin,
+and I don't choose that you shall go without me."
+
+Bertie sat down and wondered. Dark figures were passing to and fro;
+there were the lights on the shore; he could feel the throbbing of the
+engines; there was the unclouded sky above; he still was in a dream.
+Unfortunately the figure of the captain standing near turned the dream
+into a nightmare.
+
+Most of the passengers went at once into their cabins. No one came
+near them.
+
+"Look up at me."
+
+Bertie looked up. The captain, standing, looked down at him.
+
+"Do you think I didn't see you in the train? Do you think I didn't see
+you wanting to open your mouth and blab before all those fools? It
+would have been capital fun for you, now, wouldn't it?"
+
+Bertie shivered. The captain's ideas of fun were singular. Bertie
+would have almost given his life to have done what the rascal hinted
+at, but he would have done it in his extremity of agony and with no
+idea of fun. It would have taken a burden off his mind which seemed
+almost greater than he could bear; it threatened to drive him mad. But
+to have played the part suggested would have needed a touch of the
+heroic--a courage, a strength which Bertie had not got.
+
+The captain went on.
+
+"I had half a mind to have shot you then. If you had winked your eye I
+think I should have done the trick. I have not quite made up my mind
+what I shall do with you yet. We shall soon be out at sea. Boys easily
+fall overboard at night. I shouldn't be surprised if you fall
+overboard--by accident, you understand."
+
+The captain smiled; but Bertie's heart stood still.
+
+"Now lie down upon that seat, put your head upon that bag, and don't
+you move. I shan't go out of revolver range, you may rest assured."
+
+Bertie lay down upon the seat. The captain began pacing to and fro.
+Every second or two he passed the recumbent boy. Once Bertie could see
+that he was examining the lock of the revolver which he was holding in
+his hand. He shut his eyes, trying to keep the sight away.
+
+What an unsatisfactory difference often exists between theory and
+practice! If there was one point in which he had been quite sure it
+was his courage. To use his own words, he had pluck enough for
+anything. To "funk" a thing, no matter what; to show the white feather
+under any set of conditions which could be possibly conceived--these
+things were to him impossible.
+
+In such literature as he was acquainted with, the boy heroes were
+always heroes with a vengeance. They were gifted beings whose nerve
+was never known to fail. They fought, with a complete unconsciousness
+of there being anything unusual in such a line of conduct, against the
+most amazing odds. They generally conquered; but if they failed their
+nerves were still unshaken, and they would disengage themselves with
+perfect coolness from the most astounding complication of disasters.
+They never hesitated to take life or to risk it; blood was freely
+shed; they thought nothing of receiving several shots in the body and
+a sword-cut at the back of the head.
+
+As for Dick Turpin, and Robin Hood, and Robinson Crusoe, and Jack the
+Giant-Killer--all the world knows that they went through adventures
+which makes the hair stand up on end only to read of, and through them
+all they never winced. Bertie was modestly conscious that these
+gentlemen were perhaps a little above his reach--just a little,
+perhaps; but what the aforementioned boys had done he had thought that
+he himself could do.
+
+Yet here he was, lying upon a seat and shutting his eyes to prevent
+him from seeing a revolver. Why, one of those heroic boys would have
+faced the whole six shots and never trembled!
+
+The steamer started, and so did Bertie. Taken by surprise by the
+sudden movement, he raised himself a little on the seat.
+
+"Keep still!"
+
+The captain's voice came cool and clear. Bertie returned to his former
+position, not pausing to consider what his heroes would have done.
+
+"If you want to move you must first ask my permission; but don't you
+move without it, my young friend."
+
+Bertie offered no remonstrance. The seat was not a comfortable one to
+lie upon. It was one of those which are found in steamers, formed of
+rails, with a space between each rail. Possibly when they reached the
+open sea it would be less comfortable still. But Bertie lay quite
+quiet, and never said a word. It was not exactly what his heroes would
+have done. They would have faced the villain, and dared him to do his
+worst; and when he had done his worst, and sent six shots inside them,
+with a single bound they would have grasped him by the throat, and
+with a laugh of triumph have flung him head foremost into the gurgling
+sea.
+
+But Bertie did not do that.
+
+So long as they remained in the river one or two of the passengers
+still continued to move about the decks. The night was so glorious
+that they probably thought it a pity to confine themselves in the
+stifling cabins. But by degrees, one after the other, they
+disappeared, until finally the decks were left in possession of the
+captain and Bertie, and those whose duty it was to keep watch at
+night.
+
+Although they had passed Hurst Castle and reached the open sea, the
+weather was so calm that hardly any difference was perceptible in the
+motion of the vessel. Bertie still lay on the seat, looking at the
+stars.
+
+He had no inclination to sleep, and even had he had such inclination,
+not improbably the neighbourhood of "Uncle Tom" and his revolver would
+have banished slumber from his eyes.
+
+He was not a sentimental boy. Sentimental boys are oftener found in
+books than life. But even unsentimental boys are accessible to
+sentiment at times. He was not a religious boy. Simple candour compels
+the statement that the average boy is not religious. But that night,
+lying on the deck, looking up at that wondrous canopy of stars,
+conscious of what had brought him there, aware of his danger, ignorant
+of the fate which was in store for him, knowing that for all he could
+tell just ahead of him lay instant death, he would have been more or
+less than boy if his thoughts had not strayed to unwonted themes.
+
+Through God's beautiful world, across His wondrous sea--the companion
+of a thief. Bertie's thoughts travelled homewards. A sudden flood of
+memories swept over him.
+
+All at once the captain paused in front of him.
+
+"Shall I throw you overboard?"
+
+There was a glitter in his eyes. A faint smile played about his lips.
+Bertie was not inclined to smile. His tongue clave to the roof of his
+mouth.
+
+"I have been asking myself the question, Why should I not? I shall
+have to dispose of you in one way or other in the end; why not by
+drowning now? One plunge and all is over."
+
+This sort of conversation made Bertie believe in the possibility of
+one's hair standing straight up on end. He felt persuaded that none of
+his heroes had ever been spoken to like this; nothing made of flesh
+and blood could listen to such observations and remain unmoved,
+especially with the moonlit waters disappearing into the night on
+every side. What crimes would they not conceal?
+
+"It is this way. It is you, or--I. In the railway train you would have
+proclaimed me had you dared. You did not dare; sooner or later,
+perhaps, you will dare more. Why should I wait for your courage to
+return? We are alone; the sea tells no tales. Boys will lean
+overboard: what more natural than that you should fall in? It is
+distressing to lose one's nephew, especially so dear a one; but what
+is life but a great battle-field which is covered with the slain? Sit
+up, my boy, and let us talk together."
+
+Bertie sat up, not because he wished it, but because he could not help
+it. He had lost all control over his own movements. This man seemed to
+him to be some supernatural being against whom it was vain to attempt
+to struggle.
+
+There was no one by to listen to the somewhat curious conversation
+which occurred between these two.
+
+"So you have run away? I think you said you ran away for fun. You have
+evidently a turn for humour. Does this sort of thing enter into your
+ideas of fun--this little trip of ours?"
+
+It emphatically did not. Bertie stammered out a negative.
+
+"No--o!"
+
+"You say your father is rich, you have a good home. Were you not happy
+there?"
+
+"Ye--es!"
+
+"Seriously, then, what did you propose to yourself to do when you ran
+away?"
+
+"I--I don't know."
+
+"Did you propose to yourself a life like mine?"
+
+Bertie shuddered. He shrank away from the man in front of him with an
+air of invincible repugnance.
+
+"Answer me! Look me in the face and answer me. I have a taste for
+learning the opinions of my fellow-men, and you are something original
+in boys. Tell me, what is your candid opinion of myself? What do you
+think of me?"
+
+Bertie looked up as he was bidden. There was in his face something of
+his old bull-dog look. Something of his old courage had come back
+again, and on his countenance was the answer ready written. But the
+captain meant to have the answer in plain words.
+
+"Speak! you're not moonstruck, are you? Tell me what you think of me?"
+
+"You'll kill me if I do."
+
+The words came out heavily, as though he had to rid himself of an
+overpowering weight before he could get them out. There was a
+momentary pause; then the captain laughed.
+
+"I shall kill you anyhow. What difference will it make? Tell me what
+you think of me."
+
+"You are a coward and a thief!"
+
+The words were spoken; and in speaking them perhaps Bertie came nearer
+to what is called a hero than ever in all his life before. But their
+effect upon the captain was not agreeable. Those who play at bowls
+must expect rubbers, and those who insist upon receiving an answer
+which they know can scarcely be agreeable should make the best of it
+when it comes. But the captain did not seem to see it.
+
+Directly he had spoken Bertie saw that he had put his foot in it.
+Instinctively he slipped his hands between the rails of the seat and
+held on tight. Only just in time, for the captain, stooping forward,
+tried to lift him in his arms.
+
+"Leave go, you young brute!"
+
+Bertie did leave go, but only to throw his arms about the captain's
+neck. Instantly the captain stood up straight, holding Bertie in his
+arms, staggering beneath his weight, for the convulsive clutch of the
+lad's arms about his neck encumbered him.
+
+"If you don't take your arms away I'll kill you!"
+
+But Bertie only clutched the tighter.
+
+"Let me go! let me go!" he screamed with the full strength of his
+lungs.
+
+The effect was startling. In the prevailing silence the boy's voice
+was heard far out across the sea. Taken aback by such a show of
+resistance where none had before been offered, the captain promptly
+replaced the lad upon the seat.
+
+"What's the matter with you? It was only a joke."
+
+Bertie unclasped his arms. The expression of his face showed that it
+had been no joke to him. He looked like one who was not even yet quite
+sure that he had escaped from death.
+
+The man at the helm was unable to see the seat on which they sat. The
+forward watch had been on the other side the ship. This man now
+advanced.
+
+"What's the matter there?"
+
+The captain met him with his most placid air.
+
+"Did you hear my nephew's voice? He had no idea he spoke so loud; he
+was forgetting where we were."
+
+The man advanced still closer.
+
+"What's the matter with you, boy?"
+
+Quite unconsciously the captain unbuttoned his overcoat, and his hand
+strayed to the pocket at the top.
+
+"No--nothing," stammered Bertie.
+
+"Nothing! I don't know what you call nothing! I should think you was
+being murdered, hollering out like that. Why don't you go down to the
+cabin and go to sleep?"
+
+The captain drew the man aside.
+
+"My nephew is a little excitable at times," he said, and tapped his
+forehead. "He is best away from the cabin. He is better alone up here
+in the fresh air with me."
+
+The man, a weather-beaten sailor, with an unkempt grey beard, looked
+him straight in the face.
+
+"Do you mean he's cracked?"
+
+"Well, we don't call it by that name. He's excitable--not quite
+himself at times. You had better pay no heed to him; he has one of his
+fits on him to-night--the journey has excited him."
+
+"Poor young feller!"
+
+And the sailor turned to look at the boy. The captain slipped
+something into his hand. The man touched his hat and went away,
+looking at the piece of money as he went. And the man and the boy were
+left alone again.
+
+Bertie, on the seat, clutched the rails as he had done before. The
+captain, standing in front, looked down at him.
+
+"There's more in you than meets the eye; though, considering you
+pretend to have a turn for humour, one would have thought you would
+have been quicker to understand a joke. I say nothing of the noise you
+made, but you were wise not to answer that fellow's impertinent
+question. Your presence of mind saved you from accidental contact with
+the waters, but nothing could have saved you from my six-shooter. You
+can lie down again. You need have no fear of another accident; your
+screeching has made that fellow, and probably his comrades, too
+inquisitive to make it worth one's while to venture that. But when it
+comes to the question of letting your tongue wag too freely, nothing
+can save you from my revolver--mark that. It will be then a case of
+you or I. If you have made up your mind to spoil me, I will spoil you,
+my little friend. I say you can lie down."
+
+Bertie lay down; and again the captain resumed his pacing to and fro,
+keeping watch, as it were, over his young prisoner.
+
+The boy fell asleep. The reaction which followed the short sharp
+struggle beguiled him, and he slept. And oddly enough he slept the
+sleep of peace. And more than once the captain, pausing in his
+solitary vigil, bent over the sleeping boy, and looked down at him.
+
+"The young beggar's actually smiling."
+
+And in fact a smile did flit across the sleeper's face. Perhaps he was
+dreaming of his mother.
+
+"Ran away for fun, did he? Yet the youngster isn't quite a fool. Pity
+it should be a case of he or I, but self-preservation is Nature's
+first law! That was a headline in my copy-books unless I greatly err."
+
+The captain lit a fresh cigar, and continued his patrol. What did he
+think of? A hopeless past and a hopeless future? God forgive him!
+for such as he there is no forgiveness to be had from men. That
+self-preservation, which is Nature's first law, is a law which cuts
+both ways. Honest men must destroy the Captain Loftuses, or they will
+be themselves destroyed.
+
+The morning dawned; the day returned to the world. Still the boy slept
+on. At last the captain woke him. He got up, as if bewildered, and
+rubbed his eyes.
+
+"Well, nephew mine, are you going to sleep for ever? If so, I'm sorry
+that I woke you. Jump up and come with me."
+
+His "uncle" led the way into the cabin. They were preparing breakfast;
+the passengers were falling to. The night had been so tranquil that
+not one had suffered from sea-sickness, and appetite had come with the
+morning. A trained eye, looking at the fleecy clouds which were
+peeping over the horizon, would have prophesied a change, and that
+rough weather was at hand. But the day had dawned in splendour, and so
+far the morning was as tranquil as the night had been. So those
+passengers who were going through to Jersey sat down with light hearts
+to breakfast.
+
+The captain and Bertie joined them. That his "uncle" had no present
+intention of starving him was plain, for he was allowed a hearty meal
+of whatever took his fancy.
+
+And while they were at breakfast the _Ella_ was brought up alongside
+the jetty, St. Peter's Port, Guernsey.
+
+
+
+
+                              Chapter XX
+
+                           EXIT CAPTAIN TOM
+
+
+When they returned to the deck the boat was  preparing to continue her
+journey. The fruit vendors--and with what delicious fruit the Guernsey
+men board the Jersey boats!--were preparing to take their leave, and
+those passengers who had gone to stretch their legs with a saunter on
+the jetty were returning to the steamer.
+
+The rest of the voyage was uneventful. Jersey is not very far away
+from Guernsey, and for a considerable part of the distance the
+passengers were in sight of land. The breeze began to freshen, and as
+they steamed round Jersey towards St. Heliers it began to dawn upon
+not a few that enough of this sort of thing was as good as a feast.
+There is such a very striking difference between steaming over a
+tranquil sea and being tossed and tumbled among boisterous waves. It
+was fortunate they were so near their journey's end. Several of the
+travellers were congratulating themselves that, when they reached dry
+land, they would be able to boast that they had voyaged from
+Southampton to Jersey without experiencing a single qualm. Had the
+journey been prolonged much further, that boast would have been
+cruelly knocked on the head. When they drew up beside the pier at St.
+Heliers, coming events, as it were, had already cast their shadows
+before. They were saved just in the nick of time.
+
+Bertie and the captain were among the first on shore; and, not
+unnaturally, the young gentleman supposed that their journeying was at
+an end. But he was wrong.
+
+"Step out! We have no time to lose! We have to catch another boat,
+which is due to start."
+
+Bertie stepped out. He wondered if the other boat was to take them
+back to England. Did the captain mean to pass the rest of his life in
+voyaging to and fro?
+
+The disappointed flymen, to whom the arrival of the mail-boat is the
+great event of the St. Heliers day, let them pass. The hotel and
+boarding-house touters touted, so far as they were concerned, in vain.
+The captain gave no heed to their solicitations. He evidently knew his
+way about, for he walked quickly down the jetty, turned unhesitatingly
+to the left when he reached the bottom, crossed the harbour, and down
+the jetty again upon the other side. About half-way down was a fussy
+little steamer which was making ready to start.
+
+"Here you are! Jump on board!"
+
+If Bertie did not exactly jump, he at any rate got on board.
+
+What the boat was Bertie knew not, nor whither it was going. Compared
+to the _Ella_, which they had just quitted, it was so small a craft
+that he scarcely thought it could be going back the way the mail had
+come.
+
+As a matter of fact it was not.
+
+Two or three times a week a fussy little steamer passes to and fro
+between Jersey and France. The two French ports at which it touches
+are St. Malo and St. Brieuc. One journey it takes to St. Malo, the
+next to St. Brieuc. On this occasion it was about to voyage to St.
+Brieuc.
+
+St. Brieuc, as some people may not know, is the chief town of the
+department of Cotes-du-Nord, in Brittany--about as unpretending a
+chief town as one could find. That Captain Loftus had some
+preconceived end in view, and had not started on a wild-goose chase,
+not, as might have at first appeared, going hither and thither as his
+fancy swayed him, seemed plain.
+
+A more roundabout route to France he could scarcely have chosen. Had
+he simply desired to reach the Continent, fast steamers which passed
+from Southampton to Havre in little less than half the time which the
+journey had already occupied, were at his disposal. Very many people,
+some of them constant travellers, are ignorant of the fact that a
+little steamer is constantly plying between Jersey and Brittany. It is
+dependent on the tides for its time of departure. Only in the local
+papers are the hours advertised. Captain Loftus must have been pretty
+well posted on the matter to have been aware that on this particular
+day the little steamer, _La Commerce_, would be starting for St.
+Brieuc about the time the mail-boat entered Jersey.
+
+He must have had some particular object in making for that remote
+corner of Breton France. No sooner did the boat enter the little
+harbour than he made a dash for the railway station.
+
+Bertie seemed to have passed into another world. He had not the
+faintest notion where he was. He was not even sure that they had
+reached Jersey. He heard strange tongues sounding in his ears; saw
+strange costumes before his eyes. In his then state of bewilderment he
+would have been quite ready to believe anybody who might have chosen
+to tell him that he had arrived in Timbuctoo.
+
+Some light was thrown upon the subject when they reached the station.
+The captain took some money out of his pocket and held it out to
+Bertie.
+
+"Go and ask for the tickets," he said.
+
+Bertie stared. If he had been told to go and ask the man in the moon
+for a lock of his hair he could not have been more puzzled.
+
+"Do you hear what I say? Go and ask for the tickets."
+
+"Tickets? Where for?"
+
+The captain hesitated a moment, then said:
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+He handed Bertie some silver coins.
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+Bertie stammeringly repeated the words. Could the captain be in
+earnest?
+
+"I want to catch the train; look alive, or----"
+
+The captain touched the pocket where the revolver was.
+
+Bertie doubtfully advanced to the booking office, gazing behind him as
+he went to make quite sure that the captain had meant what he said.
+There was an old lady taking tickets, so he waited his turn.
+
+"Two first-class tickets for Constantinople."
+
+"_Comment?_"
+
+He stared at the booking-clerk, and the booking-clerk stared at him,
+each in complete ignorance of what the other meant.
+
+"Do you mean to say you can't speak French?"
+
+The captain came to the rescue, speaking so gently that his words were
+only audible to Bertie's ears.
+
+"No--o."
+
+"Do you mean to say you don't know enough to be able to ask for two
+first-class tickets for Constantinople?"
+
+"No--o."
+
+"How much French do you know?"
+
+"No--one."
+
+The captain evidently knew a great deal, for he immediately addressed
+the booking-clerk in fluent French--French which that official
+understood, for two tickets were at once forthcoming. But whether they
+were for Constantinople, or for Jericho, or for Kamtchatka, was more
+than the boy could tell. He was in the pleasant position of not being
+able to understand a word that was said; of being without the faintest
+notion where he was, and of not having the least idea where he was
+going to.
+
+It may be mentioned, however, that the captain had not asked for
+tickets for Constantinople--which at St. Brieuc he would have
+experienced some difficulty in getting--but for Brest.
+
+They had not long to wait before the through train from Paris entered
+the station. They got into a first-class carriage, which they had for
+themselves, and in due time they were off.
+
+The state of Bertie's mind was easier imagined than described. He had
+been in a dream since he had started on his journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams; and dreams have a tendency to become more and more
+incoherent.
+
+His adventures up to the time of leaving London had been strange
+enough, but he had at least known in what part of the world he was.
+Now he was not possessed of even that rudimentary knowledge. The
+continued travelling towards an unknown destination, the unresting
+onward rush, as though the captain meant, like the brook, to "go on
+for ever"--and this in the case of a boy who had never travelled more
+than twenty miles from home in his life--had in itself been enough to
+confuse him; but the sudden discovery that he was in an unknown
+country, in which they spoke an unknown tongue, put the climax to his
+mental muddle. Had the captain, revolver in hand, then and there
+insisted on his informing him which part of his body as a rule was
+uppermost, he would have been wholly at a loss to state whether it was
+on his head or heels he was accustomed to stand.
+
+Something strange, too, about the railway carriage, about the country
+through which they passed, about the people and the very houses he saw
+through the carriage window made his muddle more.
+
+The names of the roadside stations at which they stopped, which were
+shouted out with stentorian lungs, were such oddities. They came to
+one where the word "Guingamp" was painted in huge letters on a large
+white board. Guingamp! What was the pronunciation of such a word as
+that? And fancy living at a town with such a name! He was not aware
+that, like a conjurer's trick, it was only a question of knowing how
+it was done, and Guingamp would come as glibly to his tongue as Slough
+or Upton.
+
+And then Belle-Isle-en-Terre and Plouigneau--what names! The
+educational system which flourished at Mecklemburg House had tended to
+make French an even stranger tongue than it need have done. He saw the
+letters on the boards, but he could no more pronounce the words which
+they were supposed to form than he could fly.
+
+Throughout the long journey--and it is a long journey from St. Brieuc
+to Brest--not a word had been exchanged. The captain had scarcely
+moved. He had stretched his legs out on the seat, and had taken up the
+easiest position which was attainable under the circumstances; but he
+had not closed his eyes. Bertie wondered if he never slept; if those
+fierce black eyes remained always on the watch.
+
+The captain looked straight in front of him; and, although he seemed
+to pay no heed to what the boy was doing, Bertie was conscious that he
+never moved without the captain knowing it. What a life this man must
+lead, to be ever on the watch; to be ever fearful that the time of the
+avenger had come at last; that the prison gates were about to close on
+him, and, perhaps, this time for ever.
+
+"Uncle Tom" seemed to be as much at home in Brest as he had been
+everywhere. The station was filled with the usual crowd. Porters
+advanced to offer their services to carry the Gladstone bag and place
+it on a cab, outside the cabmen hailed them in the hope of a fare; but
+the captain, paying no heed to any of them, marched quickly on.
+
+Were they at their journey's end? Bertie wondered. Was this
+Constantinople, or had they another stage to go? If not
+Constantinople, and he had a vague idea that Constantinople could not
+be reached quite so quickly as they had come--what place was it?
+
+What struck him chiefly as they passed into the town was the number of
+men in uniform there seemed to be about. Every third person they met
+seemed to wear a uniform. He supposed they were soldiers, though he
+had never seen soldiers dressed like these before; and then what a
+number of them there were! Geography is not a strong point of the
+English education system, and he had never been taught at Mecklemburg
+House that Brest was to France much more than Portsmouth is to
+England, and that its population consists of four classes, soldiers,
+sailors, dockyard labourers--looking at all those, of whatever grade,
+who labour in the dockyard in the light of labourers--and, a long way
+behind the other three, civilians: "civilians" being a generic name
+for that--regarded from a Brest point of view--absolutely
+insignificant class who have no direct connection with war or making
+ready for war.
+
+On their arrival the day was well advanced, and as they went down the
+Rue de Siam they met the men returning from the yards. Bertie had
+never seen such a sight before, not even in the course of his present
+adventures. The Rue de Siam runs down the hill. The dockyards are at
+the foot. From where they stood, as far as the eye could reach,
+advanced a dense mass of dirt-grimed men. They were the Government
+employes, employed by France to make engines and ships of war, and as
+the seemingly never-ending stream went past he actually moved closer
+to the captain with a vague idea that he might--think of it, ye
+heroes!--need _his_ protection; for it seemed to the lad that, taken
+in the mass, he had never seen a more repulsive-looking set of
+gentlemen even in his dreams.
+
+The captain went straight down to the bridge; then he paused, seeming
+to hesitate a moment, then turned to the right, striking into what
+seemed very much like a nest of rookeries. They came to an ancient,
+disreputable-looking inn. This they entered; and as they did so
+Bertie's memory suddenly travelled back to the Kingston inn, into
+which he had been enticed by the Original Badger. The two houses were
+about on a par.
+
+Apparently the establishment was not accustomed to receive guests of
+their distinguished appearance--though Bertie was shabby enough--for
+the aged crone who received them was evidently bent double by her
+sense of the honour which was paid to the house.
+
+She and the captain carried on a voluble conversation, though, for all
+that Bertie understood of what they said, they might as well have held
+their peace. He remained standing in the centre of the brick floor,
+shuffling from foot to foot, feeling and looking as much out of place
+as though he had been suddenly dropped into the middle of China.
+Gabble, gabble went the old crone's tongue, wiggle-waggle went her
+picturesque white cap--the only picturesque thing there was about
+her--up and down went her arms and hands. She was the personification
+of volubility, but unfortunately she might have been dumb for any
+meaning which her words conveyed to Bertie.
+
+Yet, incomprehensible as her speech might be and was, he could not rid
+himself of an impression, derived from her manner to the captain, and
+the captain's manner to her, that they two had met before, and that,
+in fact, they knew each other very well indeed. But neither then nor
+at any other time did he get beyond impression.
+
+Certainly her after-conduct was not of a kind to show that, even if
+she knew the gentleman, she had much faith in his integrity, unless,
+as was possible, the understanding between the two was of a very deep
+and subtle kind indeed.
+
+She showed the new arrivals up a flight of rickety stairs, into a room
+in which there were two beds of a somewhat better sort than might have
+been expected. Some attempt had also been made to fit the room up
+after the French fashion, so that it might serve as sitting-room as
+well as bedroom. There was a table in the centre, and the apartment
+also contained two or three rush-bottomed chairs.
+
+The old crone, having shown them in, said something to the captain and
+disappeared. The man and the boy were left alone. They had not spoken
+to each other since they had left St. Brieuc, and there was not much
+spoken now.
+
+"You can take your hat off and sit down. We shall sleep here to-night."
+
+So at any rate they had reached a temporary resting-place at last;
+their journey was not to be quite unceasing. It was only the night
+before they had left London, but it seemed to Bertie that it was a
+year ago.
+
+He did as he was bid--took his hat off and sat on a chair. The captain
+sat down also, seating himself on one chair and putting his feet upon
+another. Not a word was spoken; they simply sat and waited, perhaps
+twenty minutes.
+
+Bertie wondered what they were waiting for, but the reappearance of
+the crone with a coarse white tablecloth shed light upon the matter.
+They had been waiting while a meal was being prepared.
+
+The prospect revived his spirits. He had not tasted food since they
+had left the _Ella_, and his appetite was always hale and hearty. But
+he was thrown into the deepest agitation by a remark which the crone
+addressed to him. He had not the faintest notion what it was she said;
+but the mere fact of being addressed in a foreign and therefore
+unknown tongue made him feel quite ill.
+
+The captain did not improve the matter.
+
+"Why don't you answer the woman?"
+
+"I don't know what she says."
+
+"Are you acting, or is it real?"
+
+Bertie only wished that he had been acting, and that his ignorance had
+not been real. At Mecklemburg House the idea of learning French had
+seemed to him absurd, an altogether frivolous waste of time. What
+would he not have given then--and still more, what would he not have
+given a little later on--to have made better use of his opportunities
+when he had them? Circumstances alter cases.
+
+The captain looked at him for a moment or two with his fierce black
+eyes; then he said something to the old woman which made her laugh.
+Not a pleasant laugh by any means, and it did not add to Bertie's
+sense of comfort that such a laugh was being laughed at him.
+
+"Sit up to the table!"
+
+The old woman had laid the table, and had then disappeared to fetch
+the food to put before her guests. Bertie sat up. The meal appeared.
+Not by any means a bad one--better, like the room itself, than might
+have been expected.
+
+When they had finished, and the old crone had cleared the things away,
+the captain stood up and lighted a cigar.
+
+"Now, my lad, you'd better tumble into bed. I've a strong belief in
+the virtue of early hours. There's nothing like sleep for boys, even
+for those with a turn for humour."
+
+Bertie had not himself a taste for early hours as a rule--it may be
+even questioned if the captain had--but he was ready enough for bed
+just then, and he had scarcely got between the sheets before he was
+asleep. But what surprised him was to see the captain prepare himself
+for bed as well. Bertie had one bed, the captain the other. The lights
+were put out; and at an unusually early hour silence reigned.
+
+Perhaps the journey had fatigued the man as much as the boy. It is
+beyond question that the captain was asleep almost as soon as Bertie
+was.
+
+But he did not sleep quite so long.
+
+While it was yet dark he got up, and, having lit a candle, looked at
+his watch. Then he dressed very quietly, making not the slightest
+noise. He took his revolver from underneath his pillow, and replaced
+it in the top pocket of his overcoat. He also took from underneath his
+pillow a leathern case. He opened it. It contained a necklace of
+wondrous beauty, formed of diamonds of uncommon brilliancy and size.
+His great black eyes sparkled at the precious stones, and the precious
+stones sparkled back at him.
+
+It was that necklace which had once belonged to the Countess of
+Ferndale, and which, according to Mr. Rosenheim, had cost more than
+twenty thousand pounds. The captain reclosed the leathern case, and
+put it in the same pocket which contained his revolver.
+
+Then, being fully dressed, even to his hat and boots, he crossed the
+room and looked at Bertie. The boy was fast asleep.
+
+"The young beggar's smiling again."
+
+The young beggar was; perhaps he was again dreaming of his mother.
+
+The captain took his Gladstone bag and crept on tiptoe down the
+stairs. Curiously enough the front door was unbarred, so that it was
+not long before he was standing in the street. Then, having lighted,
+not a cigar this time, but a pipe, he started at a pace considerably
+over four miles an hour, straight off through the country lanes, to
+Landerneau. He must have had a complete knowledge of the country to
+have performed that feat, for Landerneau is at a distance of not less
+than fifteen miles from Brest; and in spite of the darkness which
+prevailed, at any rate when he started, he turned aside from the high
+road, and selected those by-paths which only a native of the country
+as a rule knows well.
+
+Landerneau is a junction on the line which runs to Nantes. He caught
+the first train to that great seaport, and that afternoon he boarded,
+at St. Nazaire, a steamer which was bound for the United States of
+America, and by night he was far away on the high seas.
+
+Henceforward he disappears from the pages of this story. He had laid
+his plans well. He had destroyed the trail, and the only witness of
+his crime whom he had any cause to fear he had left penniless in the
+most rabid town in France, where any Englishman who is penniless, and
+unable to speak any language but his own, was not likely to receive
+much consideration from the inhabitants.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XXI
+
+         THE DISADVANTAGES OF NOT BEING ABLE TO SPEAK FRENCH
+
+
+In the meantime Bertie slept, perhaps still continuing to dream of his
+mother. When he woke he thought the captain was still taking his rest.
+He remained for a time motionless in bed. But it began to dawn upon
+him that the room was very quiet, that there was no sound even of
+gentle breathing. If the captain slept, he slept with uncommon
+soundness.
+
+So he sat up to see if the captain really was asleep, and saw that the
+opposite bed was empty. Still the truth did not at once occur to him.
+It was quite possible that the captain had not chosen to wait till his
+companion awoke before he himself got up.
+
+For the better part of an hour Bertie lay and wondered. By degrees he
+could not but perceive that the captain's absence was peculiar.
+Considering the close watch and ward which he had kept upon the lad,
+it was surprising that he should leave him so long to the enjoyment of
+his own society.
+
+An idea occurred to Bertie. Supposing the captain was guarding him
+even in his absence? Then the door would be locked. He got up to see.
+No; he had only to turn the handle, and the door was open. What could
+it mean? Bertie returned to his bed to ponder.
+
+Another half-hour passed, and still no signs of the captain. Bertie
+would have liked to get up, but did not dare. Supposing when the
+captain returned he chose to be indignant because the lad had taken
+upon himself to move without his advice?
+
+There came a tapping at the door. Was it the captain? He would
+scarcely knock at the door to ask if he might be allowed to enter. The
+tapping again.
+
+"Come in," cried Bertie.
+
+Still the tapping continued. Then some one spoke in French. It was the
+old crone's voice.
+
+"M'sieu veut se lever? C'est midi!"
+
+Not in the least understanding what was said, Bertie cried again,
+"Come in!"
+
+The door was opened a few inches, and the old crone looked in. She
+stared at Bertie sitting up in bed, and Bertie stared at her.
+
+"M'sieu, vot' oncle! Il dort?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean," said Bertie.
+
+They were in the agreeable position of not having either of them the
+faintest conception of what the other said. She came further into the
+room and looked about her. Then she saw that the captain's bed was
+empty.
+
+"Vot' oncle! Ou est-il donc?"
+
+Bertie stared, as though by dint of staring he could get at what she
+meant. The Mecklemburg House curriculum had included French, but not
+the sort of French which the old lady talked. "Mon pere" and "ma
+mere," that was about the extent of Bertie's knowledge of foreign
+tongues; and even those simple words he would not have recognised
+coming from the peculiarly voluble lips of this ancient dame.
+
+While he was still endeavouring to understand, from the expression of
+her face, what it was she said, all at once she began to scold him. Of
+course he had still not the slightest knowledge as to what were the
+actual words she used; but her voice, her gestures, and the expression
+of her countenance needed no interpreter. Never very much to look at,
+she suddenly became as though possessed with an evil spirit, seeming
+to rain down anathemas on his non-understanding head with all the
+virulence of the legendary witch of old.
+
+What was the matter Bertie had not the least conception, but that
+something was the matter was plain enough. Her shrill voice rose to a
+piercing screech. She seemed half choked with the velocity of her
+speech. Her wrinkled face assumed a dozen different hideous shapes.
+She shook her yellow claws as though she would have liked to have
+attacked him then and there.
+
+Suddenly she went to the door and called to some one down below. A man
+in sabots came stamping up the stairs. He was a great hulking fellow
+in a blouse and a great wide-brimmed felt hat. He listened to what the
+woman said, or rather screamed, looking at Bertie all the time from
+under his overhanging brows. Then he took up the lad's clothes which
+lay upon the bed, and very coolly turned out all the pockets. Finding
+nothing in the shape of money to reward his search, he put them down
+again and glowered at Bertie.
+
+Some perception of the truth began to dawn upon the lad. Could the
+captain have gone--absconded, in fact--and forgotten to pay his bill?
+From the proceedings of the man and woman in front of him it would
+seem he had. The man had apparently searched the youngster's pockets
+in quest of money to pay what the captain owed, and searched in vain.
+
+All at once he caught Bertie by the shoulders and lifted him bodily on
+to the floor. Then he pointed to his clothing, saying something at the
+same time. Bertie did not understand what he said, but the meaning of
+his gesture was plain enough.
+
+Bertie was to put on his clothes and dress. So Bertie dressed. All the
+time the woman kept up a series of exclamations. More than once it was
+all that the man could do to prevent her laying hands upon the boy. He
+himself stood looking grimly on, every now and then seeming to grunt
+out a recommendation to the woman to restrain her indignation.
+
+When the boy was dressed he unceremoniously took him by the collar of
+the coat and marched him from the room. The old crone brought up the
+rear, shrieking out reproaches as they went.
+
+In this way they climbed down the rickety stairs, Bertie first--a most
+uncomfortable first; the man next, holding his coat collar, giving him
+little monitory jerks, in the way the policeman had done down
+Piccadilly; the woman last, raining abuse upon the unfortunate
+youngster's head. This was another stage on the journey to the Land of
+Golden Dreams.
+
+Across the room below to the front door. There was a temporary pause.
+The old crone gave the boy two sounding smacks, one on each side of
+the head, given with surprising vigour considering her apparent age.
+Then the man raised his foot, sabot and all, and kicked the young
+gentleman into the street!
+
+Then Bertie felt sure that the captain had forgotten to pay his bill.
+
+He stood for a moment in the narrow street, not unnaturally surprised
+at this peremptory method of bidding a guest farewell. But it would
+have been quite as well if he had stood a little less upon the order
+of his going; for the crone, taking advantage of his momentary pause,
+caught off her slipper and flung it at his head. This, too, was
+delivered with vigour worthy of a younger arm, and as it struck Bertie
+fairly on the cheek he received the full benefit of the lady's
+strength. The other slipper followed, but that Bertie just dodged in
+time. Still, he thought that under the circumstances, perhaps, he had
+better go. So he went.
+
+But not unaccompanied.
+
+A couple of urchins had witnessed his unceremonious exit, and they had
+also seen the slippers aimed. The whole proceeding seemed to strike
+them in a much more humorous light than it did Bertie, and to mark
+their enjoyment of the fun they danced about and shrieked with
+laughter.
+
+As Bertie began to slink away the man said to them something which
+seemed to make them prick up their ears. They followed Bertie,
+pointing with their fingers.
+
+"V'la un Anglais! C'est un larron! au voleur! au voleur!"
+
+What it was they shrieked in their shrill voices Bertie had not the
+least idea, but he knew it was unpleasant to be pointed and shouted
+at, for their words were caught up by other urchins of their class,
+and soon he had a force of ragamuffins shrieking close at his heels.
+
+"V'la un Anglais! un Anglais! C'est un lar--r--ron!"
+
+The stress which they laid upon the _larron_ was ear-splitting.
+
+As he went, his following gathered force. They were a ragged regiment.
+Some hatless, some shoeless, all stockingless; for even those who wore
+sabots showed an inch or two of naked flesh between the ends of their
+breeches and the tops of their wooden shoes.
+
+As Bertie found his way into the better portions of the town the
+procession created a sensation. Shopkeepers came to their doors
+to stare, the loungers in the cafes stood to look. Some of the
+foot-passengers joined the rapidly-swelling crowd.
+
+The boy with his sullen face passed on, his lips compressed, his eyes
+with their dogged look. What the hubbub was about, why they followed
+him, what it was they kept on shouting, he did not understand. He knew
+that the captain had left him, and left him penniless. What he was
+himself to do, or where he was going, he had not the least idea. He
+only knew that the crowd was hunting him on.
+
+There was not one friendly face among those around him--not one who
+could understand. The boys seemed like demons, shrieking, dancing,
+giving him occasional shoves. Separately he would have tackled any one
+of them, for they could not despise him for being English more
+heartily than he despised them for being French. But what could he do
+against that lot?--a host, too, which was being reinforced by men. For
+the cry "Un Anglais!" seemed to be infectious, and citizens of the
+grimier and more popular type began to swell the throng and shriek "Un
+Anglais!" with the boys.
+
+One man, a very dirty and evil-looking gentleman, laying his two hands
+on Bertie's shoulders, started running, and began pushing him on in
+front of him. This added to the sport. The cavalcade broke into a
+trot. The shrieks became more vigorous. Suddenly Bertie, being pushed
+too vigorously from behind, and perhaps a little bewildered by the
+din, lost his footing and fell forward on his face. The man, taken
+unawares, fell down on top of him. The crowd shrieked with laughter.
+
+A functionary interfered, in the shape of a _sergent de ville_. He
+wanted to know what the disturbance was about. Two or three dozen
+people, who knew absolutely nothing at all about it, began explaining
+all at once. They did not render the matter clearer. Nor did the man
+who had pushed Bertie over. He was indignant; not because he had
+pushed Bertie over, but because he had fallen on him afterwards. He
+evidently considered himself outraged because Bertie had not managed
+to enjoy a monopoly of tumbling down.
+
+The policeman, not much enlightened by the explanations which were
+poured upon him, marched Bertie off to the _bureau de police_. They
+manage things differently in France, and the difference is about as
+much marked in a police station as anywhere else. Bertie found himself
+confronted by an official who pelted him with questions he did not
+understand, and who was equally at a loss to understand the
+observations he made in reply. Then he found himself locked up. It is
+probable that while he was held in durance vile an attempt was made to
+discover an interpreter; it would appear from what followed that if
+such an attempt were made, it was made in vain.
+
+The afternoon passed away. Still the boy was left to enjoy his own
+society. He had plenty of leisure to think; to wonder what was going
+to happen to him--what was the next page which was to be unfolded in
+the history of his adventures. He had leisure to learn that he was
+getting hungry. But no one brought him anything to eat.
+
+At last, just as he was beginning to think that he surely was
+forgotten, an official appeared, who, without a word, took him by the
+collar of his coat--he had been taken a good many times by the collar
+of his coat of late--led him straight out of the station-house,
+through some by-streets to the outskirts of the town.
+
+Then, when he had taken him some little distance outside the walls,
+and a long country road stretched away in front, he released the lad's
+collar, and with a very expressive gesture, which even Bertie was not
+at a loss to understand, he bade him take himself away.
+
+And Bertie took himself away, walking smartly off in the direction in
+which the sergeant pointed--away from the town. The policeman watched
+him for some time, standing with his hands in his pockets; and then,
+when a curve in the road took the lad out of sight, he returned within
+the walls.
+
+It was already evening. The uncertain weather which had prevailed
+during the last few days still proved its uncertainty. The day had
+been fine, the evening was clouded. The wind was high, and, blowing
+from the north-west, blew the clouds tumultuously in scurrying masses
+across the sky.
+
+The country was bare, nearly treeless. It was very flat. The scant
+fields of Finistere offered no protection from the weather, and but
+little pleasure to the eye. It was a bleak, almost barren country,
+with but little natural vegetation--harsh, stony, and inhospitable.
+
+Along the wind-swept road he steadily trudged. He knew not whither he
+was going, not even whence he came. He was a stranger in a strange
+land. The captain had asked him whether he spoke French; he supposed,
+therefore, that this land was France. But the captain had confused
+him--bidden him ask for tickets for Constantinople. Even Bertie's
+scanty geographical knowledge told him that Constantinople was not
+France. On the other hand, the same scant store suggested that it
+needed a longer flight than they had taken to bring him into Turkey.
+
+A very slight knowledge of French would have enabled him to solve the
+question. If he had only been able to ask, Where am I? The person
+asked might have taken him to be an English lunatic in a juvenile
+stage of his existence, but would probably have replied. Unfortunately
+this knowledge was wanting. If sometimes a little knowledge is a
+dangerous thing, it is also, and not seldom, very much the other way.
+
+Nearly all that night Bertie went wandering on. The darkness gathered.
+The wind seemed to whistle more loudly when the darkness came, but
+there was no escape from it for him. Seen in the light of clustering
+shadows the country seemed but scantily peopled. He scarcely met a
+soul. A few peasants, a cart or two--these were the only moving things
+he saw. And when the darkness deepened he seemed to be alone in all
+the world.
+
+A house or two he passed, even some villages, in which there were no
+signs of life except an occasional light gleaming through a wayside
+window. He made no attempt to ask for food, or drink, or shelter. How
+could he have asked? As he went further and further from the town he
+began to come among the Breton aborigines; and in Brittany, as in
+Wales, you find whole hamlets in which scarcely one of the inhabitants
+has a comprehensible knowledge of the language of the country which
+claims them as her children. Even French would have been of
+problematic service in the parts into which he had found, or rather
+lost his way, and he was not even aware that there was a place called
+Brittany, and a tongue called Breton. He was a stranger in a strange
+land indeed!
+
+It was a horrible night, that first one he spent wandering among the
+wilds of Finistere. After he had gone on and on and on, and never
+seemed to come to anything, and the winds shrieked louder, and he was
+hungry and thirsty and weary and worn, and there was nothing but
+blackness all around and the terror-stricken clouds whirling above his
+head, somewhere about midnight he thought it was time he should find
+some shelter and rest.
+
+So he clambered over a stone wall which bound the road on either side,
+and on the other side of this stone wall he ventured to lie down. It
+was not comfortable lying; there was no grass, there were thistles,
+nettles, weeds, and stones--plenty of stones. On this bed he tried to
+take some rest, trusting to the wall to shelter him.
+
+In vain. It requires education to become accustomed to a bed of
+stones. All things come by custom, but those who are used to sheets
+find stony soil disagreeable ground. Bertie gave it up. The wind
+seemed to come through the chinks in the wall with even greater
+bitterness than if there had been no wall at all. The stones were
+torture. There was nothing on which he could lay his head. So he got
+up and struck across the field, seeking for a sheltered place in which
+to lie. For another hour or so he wandered on, now sitting down for a
+moment or two, now kneeling, and feeling about with his hand for
+comfortable ground. In an open country, on a dark and windy night, it
+is weary searching for one's bed, especially in a country where stones
+are more plentiful than grass.
+
+In his fruitless wanderings, confused by the darkness and the
+strangeness of the place, Bertie went over the same ground more than
+once. Without knowing it, meaning to go forwards, he went back. When
+he suspected that this was the case, his helplessness came home to him
+more forcibly than it had done before. What was he to do if he could
+not tell the way he had come from the way he was going?
+
+At last he blundered on some trees. He welcomed them as though they
+had been friends. He sat down at the foot of one, and found that the
+ground was coated by what was either moss or grass. Compared to his
+bed of stones it was like a bed of eider-down. It was quite a big
+tree, and he found that he could so lean against it that it would
+serve as a very tolerable barrier against the wind at his back.
+
+At the foot of this tree he sat down, and pillowing his head against
+the trunk he sought for sleep. But sleep was coy, and would not come
+on being wooed. The utter solitude of his position kept him wakeful.
+Robinson Crusoe's desolation was scarcely more complete; his
+helplessness was not so great. It came upon Bertie, as it came upon
+Crusoe in his lonely island, that he was wholly in the hands of God.
+The teachings which he had been taught at his mother's knee, and which
+seemed to go into one ear and out of the other, proved to be the bread
+which is cast upon the waters, returning after many days. He
+remembered with startling vividness how his mother had told him that
+God holds us all in the hollow of His hand: he understood the meaning
+of that saying now.
+
+He was so sleepy, so tired out and out, that from very weariness
+he forgot that he was hungry and athirst. Yet, in some strange
+fantastic way, the thought, despite his weariness, prevented him from
+sleeping--that the winds which whistled through the night were the
+winds of God. The winds of God! And it seemed to him that all things
+were of God, the darkness and the solitude, and the mysterious place.
+Who shall judge him? Who shall say that it was only because he was in
+trouble that he had such thoughts? It is something even if in times of
+trouble we think of God. "God is a very present help in times of
+trouble," has been written on some page of some old book.
+
+Bertie was so curiously impressed by a sense of the presence of the
+Almighty God that he did what he had not done for a very long time--he
+got up, and kneeling at the foot of the friendly tree, he prayed. And
+it is not altogether beyond the range of possibility that, when he
+again sought rest, it was because of his prayer that God sent sleep
+unto his eyes.
+
+
+
+
+                             Chapter XXII
+
+                        THE END OF THE JOURNEY
+
+
+Throughout the day which followed, and throughout the night, and
+throughout the succeeding days and nights, Bertie wandered among the
+wilds of Finistere, and among its lanes and villages. How he lived he
+himself could have scarcely told. The misfortunes which had befallen
+him since he had set out on his journey to the Land of Golden Dreams
+had told upon him. He became ill in body and in mind. He needed rest
+and care, good food and careful nursing. What he got was no food, or
+scarcely any, strange skies to shelter him, a strange land to serve
+him as his bed.
+
+It was fortunate that summer was at hand. Had it been winter he would
+have lain down at night, and in the morning they would have found him
+dead. But he was at least spared excessive cold. The winds were
+not invariably genial. The occasional rain was not at all times
+welcome--to him at least, whatever it might have been to the thirsty
+earth--but there was no frost. If frost had come he would certainly
+have died.
+
+What he ate he scarcely knew. Throughout the whole of his wanderings
+he never received food from any human being. He found his breakfast,
+dinner, tea, and supper in the fields and on the hedges. A patch of
+turnips was a godsend. There was one field in particular in which grew
+both swedes and turnips. It was within a stone's-throw of a village;
+to reach it from the road you had to scramble down a bank. To this he
+returned again and again. He began to look upon it almost as his own.
+
+Once, towards evening, the farmer saw him getting his supper. The
+farmer saw the lad before the lad saw him. He stole upon him unawares,
+bent upon capturing the thief. He had almost achieved his purpose, and
+was within half a dozen yards of the miscreant, when, not looking
+where he was going in his anxiety to keep his eyes upon the pilferer,
+he caught his sabot in a hole, and came down upon his knees. As he
+came he gave vent to a deep Breton execration.
+
+Startled, Bertie looked behind and saw the foe. He was off like the
+wind. When the farmer had regained, if not his temper, at least his
+perpendicular, he saw, fifty yards ahead, a wild-looking, ragged
+figure tearing for his life. The Breton was not built for speed. He
+perceived that he might as well attempt to rival the swallow in its
+flight as outrun the boy. So he contented himself with shaking his
+fists and shouting curses after the robber of his turnip field.
+
+Never washing, never taking his clothes from his back nor his shoes
+from his feet, in appearance Bertie soon presented a figure which
+would have discredited a scarecrow. Scrambling through hedges,
+constant walking over stony ways, beds on dampish soil--these things
+told upon his garments; they soon began to drop away from him in
+shreds. His face went well with his clothing. Very white and drawn,
+very thin and dirty, his ravenous eyes looked out from under a tangled
+shock of hair. One night he had been startled in his sleep, as he
+often was, and he had sprung up, as a wild creature springs, and run
+for his life, not waiting to inquire what it was that had startled
+him, whether it was the snapping of a twig or the movement of a rabbit
+or a bird. In his haste he left his hat behind him, and as he never
+returned to get it, afterwards he went with his head uncovered.
+
+It began to be rumoured about those parts that some strange thing had
+taken up its residence in the surrounding country. The Breton peasants
+and small farmers are ignorant, credulous, superstitious. The
+slightest incident of an unusual character they magnify into a
+mystery.
+
+It was told in the hamlets that some wild creature had made its
+appearance in their neighbourhood. Some said it was a boy, some said
+it was a man, some said it was a woman; some said it was neither one
+thing nor the other, but a monster which had taken human shape.
+
+Bertie lent an air of veracity to the different versions by his own
+proceedings. He was not in his own right mind. Had care been taken,
+and friends been near, all might have been well; as it was, fever
+was taking more and more possession of his brain. He shunned his
+fellow-creatures. At the sight of a little child he would take to his
+heels and run. He saw an enemy in every bush, in every tree; in a man
+or a woman he saw his worst enemy of all.
+
+In consequence the tales gained ground and grew. A lout, returning
+from his labour in the fields, saw on a distant slope in the gathering
+twilight a wild-looking figure, who, at sight of him, turned and ran
+like the wind. The lout ran too. The tale did not lose by being told.
+Bertie was magnified into a giant, his speed into speed of the
+swiftest bird. The lout declared that he uttered mysterious sounds as
+he ran. He became a mysterious personage altogether--and a horrible
+one.
+
+Others saw this thing of evil, for that it was a thing of evil all
+were agreed. The farmer who saw him in his turnip field had a wondrous
+tale to tell.
+
+He had not tripped through his own stupidity and clumsiness. On the
+contrary, it was all owing to the influence of the evil eye. Bertie,
+being a thing of evil, had seen him--as things of evil have doubtless
+the power of doing--although his approach was made from the rear; and,
+seeing him, had glanced at him with his evil eye through the back of
+his head, as things possessing that fatal gift have, we may take it
+for granted, the power of doing. Nay, who shall decide that the evil
+eye is not itself located in the back of the head?
+
+Anyhow, under its influence the farmer tripped. This became clearer to
+his mind the more he thought of it, and, it may be also added, the
+farther off the accident became. The next morning he remembered that
+he had been conscious of a mysterious something in his joints as he
+approached the turnip stealer--a something not to be described, but
+altogether mysterious and horrible. In the afternoon he declared that
+he had not followed the plunderer because he had been rooted to the
+ground, he knew not how nor why--rooted in the manner of his own
+turnips, which he had seen disappearing from underneath his eyes.
+
+That night the tale grew still more horrible. He had a couple of
+glasses of brandy, at two sous a glass, with a select circle of his
+friends, and under the influence of conviviality the farmer made his
+neighbours' hair stand on end. He went to bed with the belief
+impressed firmly on his mind that he had encountered Old Nick in
+person, engaged in the nefarious and characteristic action of stealing
+turnips from his turnip field.
+
+Thus it came about that while Bertie avoided aboriginals, the
+aboriginals were equally careful in avoiding him. One day some one
+heard him speak. That was the climax. The tongue he spoke was neither
+Breton nor French. Delirium was overtaking the lad, and under its
+influence he was beginning to spout all sorts of nonsense in his
+feverish wanderings here and there.
+
+The aboriginal in question had seen him running across the field and
+shouting as he ran. He declared, probably with truth, that never had
+he heard the like before. It was undoubtedly the language which was in
+common use among things of evil. This conclusion was not flattering to
+English-speaking people, but there are occasions on which ignorance is
+not bliss, and it is not folly to be wise. Being a Breton peasant of
+average education, this aboriginal decided that Bertie's English was
+the language in common use among things of evil.
+
+That settled the question. There are possibly Beings--Beings in this
+case should be written with a capital letter--of indifferent, and
+worse than indifferent character, who have at least some elementary
+acquaintance with the Breton tongue. Let so much be granted. But it
+cannot be doubted--at any rate no one did doubt it--that the fact of
+this stranger speaking in a strange tongue made it as plain as a
+pike-staff that he was the sort of character which is better left
+alone.
+
+So, as a rule, they left him alone in the severest manner.
+
+Of course this could not endure for ever. Bertie was approaching the
+Land of Golden Dreams in a sense of which he had not dreamed even in
+his wildest dreams. One cannot subsist on roots alone. Nor can a young
+gentleman, used to cosy beds and well-warmed rooms and regular meals,
+exist for long on such a diet, under ever-changing skies, in an
+inhospitable country, in the open air. Bertie was worn to a shadow. He
+was wasted not only physically, but mentally and morally. He was a
+ghost of what he once had been, enfeebled in mind and body.
+
+If something did not happen soon to change his course of living, he
+would soon bring his journeying to an untimely end, and reach the Land
+of Dreams indeed.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not by any means the sort of thing
+which was required.
+
+One day a great hunt took place in that district. It was first-rate
+sport. They occasionally hunt wolves, and even wild boars in
+Finistere, but this time what was hunted was a boy. And the boy was
+Bertie.
+
+The mayor of St. Thegonnec was a wise man. All mayors are of
+necessity, and from the nature of their office, wise, especially the
+mayors of rural France; and this mayor was the wisest of wise mayors.
+He was a miller by trade, honest as millers go, and as pig-headed a
+rustic as was ever found in Finistere. His name was Baudry--Jean
+Baudry.
+
+It was reported to M. Baudry by his colleague, the mayor of the
+commune of Plouigneau, which lies on the other side of Morlaix, that
+there was a Being--with a capital B--which had come no one knew from
+whence, and which was plundering the fields in a way calculated to
+make the blood of all honest men turn cold--or hot, as might accord
+best with the natural disposition of the blood of the man in question.
+
+The mayor of St. Thegonnec had told this story to the mayor of
+Morlaix; and the mayor of Morlaix, being the mayor of the
+_arrondissement_, had thought it an excellent opportunity to snub the
+mayor of a mere commune, and had snubbed the mayor of St. Thegonnec
+accordingly; who, coming fresh from the snubbing, had encountered his
+colleague in the market-place, and then and there told his wrongs.
+
+The two worthies agreed that, at the first opportunity, they would lay
+violent hands upon this plunderer of the fields of honest men, and
+make him wish that he had left such fields alone.
+
+Such an opportunity, or what looked like such an one, was not long in
+offering itself to M. Baudry.
+
+One afternoon he was engaged in his occupation of grinding flour,
+standing in an atmosphere which would have rendered life disagreeable,
+if not altogether unsupportable, to any one but a miller, when Robert,
+Madame Perchon's eldest born, put his head inside the open door of the
+mill.
+
+"This creature, M. le Maire; this creature!"
+
+Robert Perchon was an undersized youth of some twenty years of age,
+who had escaped military service not only as being the eldest son of a
+widow, but as being in possession of an unrivalled squint, which would
+have excluded him in any case, and which would have rendered it really
+difficult for a drill sergeant to have ascertained to his own
+satisfaction whether, at any given moment, the recruit had his "eyes
+front" or behind.
+
+"Ah, at last! Where is this vagabond? We will settle his business in a
+trice!"
+
+Having shouted instructions to his assistant to keep his eyes upon the
+stones, M. le Maire came forth.
+
+"He is in the buck-wheat field! I was going to the little field by the
+river, when, behold! what should I see in the buck-wheat field, lying
+close to the hedge, and yet among the wheat, what but this creature,
+fast asleep! It is so, I give you my word. At this time of day, when
+all honest people are at work, in the middle of my field there was
+this creature, fast asleep. I knew him at once, although I have not
+seen the wretch before; but I have heard him described, and there is
+indeed something absolutely diabolical in his aspect even as he lies
+among my buck-wheat fast asleep!"
+
+"You did not wake him?"
+
+"Ah, no! Why should I wake him? Who knows what injury the creature
+might have done me when he found himself disturbed?"
+
+"Then we will wake him, I give you my word. We will capture this
+vagabond. We will discover what there is about him diabolical."
+
+The mayor's courage was applauded. There was Robert Perchon, his
+mother--in tears, at the thought of the peril which her son had only
+just escaped--a select assembly of the villagers, and the two gorgeous
+gendarmes from the St. Thegonnec gendarmerie. All these people
+perceived that the mayor was brave.
+
+The assembly started, with the intention of making an example of the
+plunderer of the fields of honest men.
+
+In front was the mayor, not looking particularly dignified, for he was
+white with flour, though void of fear.
+
+In his hand he carried a mighty stick. Behind him came the gendarmes,
+as was befitting. They had forgotten to buckle on their swords, but
+in their case dignity was everything, and it was just possible that
+the stick of the mayor would render more deadly weapons needless.
+Behind--a pretty good distance behind--came the villagers. Some of
+them carried pitchforks, others spades. One gallant lady carried a
+kettle full of boiling water. It did not occur to her, perhaps, that
+the water would have time to cool before they reached their quarry.
+Madame Perchon brought up the rear, and behind her sneaked the
+gallant Robert.
+
+It occurred to the mayor that this was not exactly as it ought to be.
+He suggested to M. Robert that as he alone knew exactly where the
+vagabond lay, it befitted him to lead the van. This, however, M.
+Robert did not see; he preferred to shout out his directions from the
+rear.
+
+They entered the buck-wheat field. No persuasions would induce him to
+enter with the rest. He insisted on remaining outside, guiding them
+from a post of safety. His mother stayed to keep him company.
+
+"By there! a little to the left! Keep straight on! If he has not gone,
+M. le Maire, which is always possible, you can touch him with your
+stick from where you are now standing!"
+
+He had not gone.
+
+The journey was almost done. The end was drawing near. Delirious,
+beside himself, fever-racked, hunger-stricken, not knowing what he was
+doing, the boy had sunk down in Madame Perchon's buck-wheat field to
+sleep. And he had slept--a mockery of sleep! A thousand hideous
+imaginations passed through his fevered mind. M. Robert Perchon, who
+had been contented with a single glance at the sleeping lad, had some
+warranty for his declaration that in his aspect there was something
+diabolical, for his limbs writhed and his countenance was distorted by
+the paroxysms of his fever.
+
+Dreaming some horrible dream, the noise made by the advancing brave
+fell upon his fevered ear. Starting upright at M. Baudry's feet, with
+a shriek which horrified all who heard him, he rushed across the
+field, and flew as if all the powers of evil were treading on his
+heels. And, indeed, in a sense the powers of evil were, for he was
+delirious with fever.
+
+The first impulse of the champions of the fields of honest men was to
+do, with one accord, what the boy had done, to turn and flee--the
+other way. Some, believing Bertie's delirious shriek to be the
+veritable voice of Satan, acted on this first impulse and fled.
+Notable among them were M. Robert and his mother. That gallant pair
+raced each other homewards, shrieking with so much vigour that it
+almost seemed that in that direction they had made up their minds to
+outdo the plunderer of the fields of honest men. But there were braver
+spirits abroad that day. Among them was the mayor. Besides, the public
+eye was upon him, and behind him were the two gendarmes. In France the
+representative of authority never runs--at least, he never runs away.
+
+It is true that when Bertie sprang with such startling suddenness from
+right underneath his feet, and gave utterance to that ear-alarming
+shriek, M. Baudry thought of running. But he only thought; it went no
+further. He would certainly have denied that he had even allowed
+himself to think of such an ignominious contingency a moment
+afterwards.
+
+The creature was running away. That was evident. It would be absurd
+for the champions of those fields to run away from him, when the
+rascal had been sensible enough to run away from them. M. Baudry
+perceived this fact at once.
+
+"After him!" he cried. "I give you my word we shall catch him yet!"
+
+Off went the assembly, helter-skelter, after the delirious boy.
+
+"Forward! forward! We will teach this rogue a lesson! We will teach
+him to rob the fields of honest men! We will learn the stuff that he
+is made of--this vagabond!"
+
+Courage revived. They all shouted, and they all ran.
+
+If the mayor was in the habit of giving his word as lightly as he gave
+it then, it could not have been worth having. It was soon evident that
+they had about as much chance of catching the fugitive as they had of
+catching the clouds which wandered above their heads.
+
+M. Baudry was not built for violent exercise. He had probably not run
+thirty yards in the last thirty years. He was in his sabots, and
+sabots are not good things for running. Fifty paces in Madame
+Perchon's buck-wheat field was quite enough for him. He perceived that
+it is not a proper thing for mayors to run; so he ran no more. Instead
+of running he sat down to think, and to encourage, of course, his
+friends.
+
+The gendarmes kept on. It was evidently their duty to keep on. But
+they were not much fonder of running than the mayor, and a gendarme's
+boots, when it comes to running, are not much more satisfactory,
+regarded as aids to progress, than sabots. Especially are gendarmes
+not built to run across ploughed fields.
+
+In fact the chase was prolonged for almost, if not quite, a hundred
+yards. Then it ceased. Most of the champions of the fields of honest
+men sat down upon the fields they championed; those who didn't gasped
+for breath upon their feet.
+
+The affair was, perhaps, something of a fiasco, but they consoled
+themselves with the reflection that they would catch the vagabond next
+time, when they could run a little better and a little further, and he
+could run a little worse--or a good deal worse, in fact.
+
+But for Bertie the chase was very far from done. He fled, not from
+things of flesh and blood, but from things of air--the wild imaginings
+of fever. On and on and on--over fields and hedges, dykes and
+ditches--on and on and on, until the day waned and the night had come.
+
+And in the night his journey ended. Even delirium would no longer give
+strength unto his limbs. His style of going changed. Instead of
+running, like a maddened animal, straight forward, he went reeling,
+reeling, reeling, staggering from side to side.
+
+Then he staggered down.
+
+He rose no more. It was the end of the journey.
+
+
+
+
+                            Chapter XXIII
+
+                      THE LAND OF GOLDEN DREAMS
+
+
+When he returned to life he was in his mother's arms. There were
+familiar faces round him, and, as out of a mist, familiar voices
+sounded in his ear.
+
+He turned in his bed--for it was on a bed he was lying, and no longer
+on the stony ground--and opened his eyes, waking as from a delicious
+slumber.
+
+Some one bent over him; some one laid a hand softly on his brow; some
+one's burning tears fell on his cheek. There was his mother standing
+by his side.
+
+"My boy! my boy! Thank God for this, my darling boy!"
+
+Then she kissed him; and she wept.
+
+Out of the mist there came another familiar form. It was his father.
+
+"Bertie! at last! Thank God for this, indeed, my son!"
+
+And he, too, stooped and kissed the lad. And the mother rose to her
+feet, and became encircled in her husband's arms; and they two
+rejoiced together over the son who was lost and was found.
+
+He had been ill six weeks. Six weeks delirious with fever; six weeks
+hovering between life and death; six weeks' sorrow; six weeks' pain.
+That was the end of his journey.
+
+And it would have had another ending had it not been for the
+providence of God. He would have journeyed into that strange, unknown
+country, whose name is Death, but that he was found by the roadside,
+where he had fallen, and by a friend. It would be unwise to say that
+that friend was not sent to him direct from God.
+
+Among his father's patients was a certain Mr. Yates. Mr. Yates was a
+county magistrate, a man of position and of wealth. Under God he owed
+his life to Dr. Bailey's skill. It was to him reference has been made
+as having given Bertie half a sovereign once upon a time--half a
+sovereign which, to Bertie's disgust, he had had to divide with his
+brothers and sisters.
+
+Mr. Yates had known the youngster well. He was a bachelor, and had
+allowed the boy to run in and out almost as he pleased. On the eve of
+starting on a tour to Brittany he had heard that the young gentleman
+had disappeared from school, no one knew why, no one knew whither.
+There was a pretty to-do when it was known. It was almost the last
+straw for Mr. Fletcher, that last straw which, according to the
+proverb, breaks the camel's back.
+
+In his bewilderment--in the general bewilderment, indeed--Dr. Bailey
+had not hesitated to lay his son's disappearance at Mr. Fletcher's
+door. He declared that he was alone to blame, that some act of
+remissness, some act of even positive cruelty must have goaded the lad
+into taking such a step.
+
+The boy had left no trace behind. The distracted father advertised for
+him right and left, placed the matter in the hands of the police,
+seeking for him on every side without finding the slightest clue to
+tell him if his son were alive or dead.
+
+Matters were in this state when Mr. Yates had left for Brittany. He
+had been there some days, when, wandering somewhat out of the beaten
+track, he had chartered a carriage at Morlaix to take him up among
+those wind-swept slopes which are grandiloquently termed the Montagnes
+d'Arree, and land him at the little town of Huelgoet. There are one or
+two things which people go to see at Huelgoet, but the place became
+memorable to Mr. Yates for what he saw upon the road.
+
+He was about half-way to his destination when he observed, lying among
+the furze at the roadside, a lad. He might not have noticed him had
+not the boy been emitting cries of so peculiar a kind that they could
+scarcely have failed to catch a traveller's ear. Going to see what was
+the matter, he perceived at once that the lad was delirious with
+fever.
+
+With some difficulty he persuaded the driver of the vehicle to convey
+so dubious a passenger. The same difficulty occurred at the Huelgoet
+hotel before they would let him in. It was only when he had undertaken
+to recoup them for any losses they might sustain, and had got the lad
+comfortably in bed, that he discovered that the waif who had found in
+him such a good Samaritan was none other than Bertie Bailey.
+
+                         *   *   *   *   *
+
+ So soon as they could move him they took him home. And, as he entered
+the old familiar home, he knew in his heart that this place which he
+was entering was in fact the Land of Golden Dreams. He had been in
+search of it afar off, and he had been a native of the country all the
+time. And there are many natives of that country who throw away the
+substance to grasp the shadow, not realizing their folly till the
+thing is done.
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+They never found the "captain" nor "Mr. Rosenheim." In due time Bertie
+told his story, and the doctor thought it so strange an one that he
+felt in duty bound to communicate with the police. A detective came
+and heard all that Bertie had to say. He asked a hundred puzzling
+questions; but, although not always able to answer them to the
+detective's satisfaction, Bertie stuck to his tale. They took him to
+point out the house which had contained the "captain's room," but he
+had been a stranger in the great city, at night, hungry and worn. He
+had gone blindly where he had been taken, not noticing a single
+landmark by the way, and now when they asked him to retrace his steps,
+and lead them where Freddy had led him, he found it impossible to
+discover the house again.
+
+So it came to pass that the police looked at his story with doubtful
+eyes. And for that cause--or some other--nothing has been heard of the
+Countess of Ferndale's jewels unto this day.
+
+
+
+                          *   *   *   *   *
+   Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hero of Romance, by Richard Marsh
+
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