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Hollowdell Grange: Holiday Hours in a Country Home, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 15. Stalking On Stilts |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. STALKING ON STILTS "Up--up--up--up--up--hilli--hi--he--o-o-o!" shouted Harry, who was first awake the next morning. "Come, boys, botany for ever! Di-andria and Poly-andria, and ever so many more of them, will be up the Camp Hill; and then there will be monogamia, and cryptogamia, and ever so many more games, here, there, and everywhere. Come, boys, get up;" and then Harry accompanied the request with a hearty bang from his pillow, the result of which was, in the cases of both brother and cousin, a leap out of bed and a regular scuffle; then hasty dressing, and out in the garden again amongst the dew-wet flowers. "There's old Sam, shaving away as usual," said Harry, as they reached the lawn, and saw the old man busy at work with his scythe. "I wonder what he has got to tell us; I know he'll have something, so as to get rid of us all. Ah! don't old Sara hate to have us with him." But Sam, although he expected it, was not to be teased very much upon this morning, for Philip made a remark which completely turned the current of Harry's thoughts, and away they all started back to the yard. Dick greeted them with rapture; but Dick was not to be let loose, and he soon showed his disgust by sharp angry barks. The old raven came slily--hop, hop, hop--behind them, to give some one a dig with his hard beak; but Fred knew his tricks now and kept him at a distance; while Philip, who was not attending, received a sharp poke right in the calf of the leg, which sent him chasing his aggressor round the yard, armed with the stump of an old birch broom; but the raven hopped upon the dog-kennel, then upon the wall, and from thence up into one of the horse-chestnut trees, and so out of reach, for when the broom was thrown at him it only crashed amongst the branches and came to the ground, while the raven burst out into a series of harsh barks, that sounded very much like a laugh of derision. "An old beast," said Philip, for his leg was bleeding a little, the dig having gone right through his trousers. "Never mind. I'll serve him out, for I'll let Dick loose at him the next time I catch him in the stables." Meanwhile, Harry had entered the stable and climbed up the perpendicular ladder into the loft, where the boys could hear him stumping about in the dark place, stumbling over the hay and straw trusses, and at last he shouted-- "Why, they're not here, Phil." "Yes, they are," said the one addressed. "I put 'em there myself, up in the corner, after we had them out last time. Look again." Harry looked again, and again, and could not find what he was in search of, and said so; and then Philip called him "Old mole's eyes," and went up himself; while Fred waited underneath the trap-door. But Master Philip had no better success than his brother, and they came to the conclusion that the stilts they were in search of were gone; so they turned to descend, when Harry caught sight of the position Fred occupied, and pointed it out to Philip; and then, making signs, and catching up an armful of hay, Philip doing the same, the result was that poor Fred was nearly smothered beneath the fragrant shower that came down upon his head. "Oh! I'll pay you for this, Master Harry," aid Fred, freeing himself from his load, and rightly judging who was the author of the mischief. "Mind that's a debt of honour, so look out." Harry grinned defiance, and then hunted well through both stable and coach-house for the missing stilts, but without success. "Why, I know where they are," said Philip all at once. "No, you don't, old clever-shakes," said his brother. "Well, you see if I don't tell," said Philip. "I know old Sam has hidden them because we walked all down the gravel-walk last month, before Fred came; and don't you remember it was wet, and we pretended that it was a flood, and that we were obliged to use the stilts to keep out of the water; and then Sam went and told Papa that we had made the path all full of holes with the stilts?" "Oh! ah! I recollect," said Harry; "and I remember your going down in the puddle. But do you think Sam took them?" "I feel sure he did," said Philip. "Won't we serve him out then," said Harry. "Come on. Let's pretend that we know he's got them, and ask for them at once." Now, old Sam had been all this time very methodically shaving away at his grass, and congratulating himself upon the boys keeping out of the garden; but, to his horror and disgust, he at length saw them all come bearing down upon him full rush, evidently bent upon some errand that he would consider unpleasant. "Ha!" said Sam, stopping to wipe his scythe, and drawing his rubber out of the sheath on his back. "Ha! I know what you all wants. You wants to know how the wopses' nest is a gettin' on." "No, we don't," said chief spokesman Harry; "but we'll go presently and see, though. We want our stilts, that you've got somewhere." "Laws, Master Henry," said the old man, pretending to be innocent, "whatever made you think of that?" "Come now," said Harry, "give 'em up directly, or we'll run away with your tools. Give us the stilts." "I ain't got 'em," said the old man. "No, but you've hid them away somewhere; so tell us directly." "Stilts--stilts," said Sam, wonderingly; "what's stilts?" "Why, you know well enough," said Philip; "and I know you've hid them away somewhere, because you thought we should forget them and not want them any more; so come now, Sam, tell us where they are, or we'll all begin to plague you." "No, I weant," said Sam, throwing off all disguise. "You don't want them, and you'll only go 'brog--brog' all down the walks, making the place full of holes, and worse than when people has been down 'em in pattens. I weant tell ee, theer," said the old man, defiantly, in his broad Lincolnshire dialect. "Yes, you will," said Harry; "now come." "I weant," said the old man again, beginning to mow. "Never mind," said Harry, "we'll go and have a look at the wasps' nest, and see if they are all killed, and then I know what we'll do. I say, Fred," he said loudly, "Phil and I will show you how they thin grapes." "Oh! laws," said old Sam to himself, and bursting out into a cold perspiration, for his grapes were the greatest objects of his pride, and he used to gain prizes with them at the different horticultural shows in the district. Even Mr Inglis himself never thought of laying a profaning hand upon his own grapes, until Sam had cut them and brought them in for dessert; and now the young dogs were talking of thinning them, and the sharp-pointed scissors lay all ready; and what was worse, the key was in the door of the green-house. "Oh dear! oh dear!" said Sam, throwing down his scythe, and hobbling off after the boys, who kept provokingly in front, and popped into the green-house just before him. "There," he said, "I'm bet out with you; come out, and I'll tell ee wheer the stilts are." "Honour bright, Sam?" said Harry. "Oh! ah! yes," said Sam. And then the boys coming out from beneath the pendent green bunches of grapes which hung thickly from the roof, the old man locked the door up, and seemed to breathe more freely when he had the key safely in his pocket. "I knew he'd hid them," said Philip. "Now, then," said Harry, "where are they?" "I've a good mind not to tell ee, you young dogs," said Sam. "We'll get in at the windows, then," said Harry and Philip in a breath. The old man glanced over his shoulder, and saw how easily the threat could be executed, and then, with a grunt of despair, said-- "Now, if I let ee have 'em, will you promise not to walk in them in the garden, and make holes?" "Yes, yes," said the boys, and then Sam led the way to the stoke-hole of the green-house, where, tucked up in the rafters, and rolled tightly up in piece of matting, were the two pairs of stilts. The boys seized them with delight; and Sam turned to go on with his work; but just as the stilt-stalkers reached the yard, and prepared to mount with their backs to the wall, clatter went the breakfast bell down went the stilts, and away scampered the boys to the breakfast-room window. On the way, however, they met Sam going also to his breakfast, and in doing so he would have to pass the yard, and Harry remembered that they had left the stilts there unprotected; so he and Philip scampered back again, just in time, for the old man could not pass the instruments which poked holes in his gravel-walks, and he was just gathering them up when he heard the boys' footsteps, and, leaving the stilts on the ground, he shuffled off as hard as he could. They took the stilts indoors, and into the hall, to place up in a corner, and just as they were inside it struck Harry how nice it would be to walk along the large hall upon them; for the floor was composed of black and white marble in diamonds, so that he could have one stilt on a black diamond and another on a white, and then change about again. So he got his back up in the corner where the macintoshes and great-coats hung, and then put one foot in one stilt, and made a spring to get into the other, but gave his head such a crack against the brass hat pegs, that he came down quicker than he went up, and then rubbed his crown with a very rueful expression of countenance. However, Harry's was not a nature to be cowed at a slight difficulty; so shifting his position a little, he had another try, and was fairly mounted. "Stump--stump; stump--stump; stump--stump," went Harry down the hall; and "stump--stump; stump--stump; stump--stump," he went back again, with a face beaming with satisfaction, but so intent upon what he was doing, that his forehead came sharply into collision with the swing lamp, and made the glass, and Harry's teeth as well, chatter quite sharply. "Bother the stupid things," said Harry; "I wish they would not have such things in the hall." Philip stood on the mat and grinned. "Stump--stump; stump--stump; stump--stump," went Harry again, but keeping well clear of obstructions this time. "Whatever is that noise?" said Mrs Inglis, listening to the stumping of the stilts; but taking no further notice, for she was making the tea, while Mr Inglis was looking over the contents of a newspaper which had just come in by post. "Stump--stump" went the stilts, while Fred had slipped out of the breakfast-room to see what was going on, and now stood in the doorway making a sort of silent echo of Philip's grin. "Stump--stump; stump--stump; crish--crash--dangle," said the stilts, the lamp, and Harry's head. "Whatever are those boys doing?" said Mr Inglis, jumping up and going to the door, closely followed by Mrs Inglis, and just as the young dog was stumping back after knocking his head against the swing lamp. Mr and Mrs Inglis had better have stopped in the room, for no sooner did Harry see his father's face issue from the door, than he let go of the stilts, and one fell in one direction, and one in the other. Stilt number one fell to the right, crash into the flower-stand, and chopped some of the best branches off the fuchsias; while stilt number two--oh! unlucky stick!--went crash down upon the great antique vase that stood in the hall upon a pedestal, knocked it off, and there it lay, shivered upon the marble floor. Harry looked for a moment at his father, then at the vase, and then at the door and rushing out of it as hard as he could, was gone in a moment. "Fetch back that boy," said Mr Inglis, sternly, as he walked back into the breakfast-parlour, and rang the bell for one of the servants to clear away the fragments. "Fetch back that boy." Away darted Philip to execute his commission, while Fred, who felt very uncomfortable, followed his uncle and aunt back into the room, where they continued their breakfast--Mr Inglis only reverting to the newspaper again, and saying nothing about the accident. The first cup of tea was finished, but no Philip; no Harry. The second cup--no Philip; no Harry. And at last breakfast was nearly done, when Mr Inglis said-- "Wherever can those boys be?" He had hardly spoken, when Philip came in to say that he could not find his brother anywhere; and all the time looking as miserable and dejected as though he had himself been the culprit Mr Inglis told Philip to sit down to his breakfast; finished his own; and then got up, and went out of the room. In about a quarter of an hour he returned, followed by Harry, with his face bearing the mark of tears, and something uncommonly like a sob every now and then escaping from his breast. Mr Inglis sat down again to his paper, and Harry tried to eat his breakfast, but was getting or very badly indeed, until, looking towards his father, he caught his eye. Mr Inglis smiled, and that smile seemed to act like magic upon the lad, for he finished his breakfast in good style--well making up for the lost time; while the sobs gradually ceased to interrupt his meal, and by the time he rose, Harry looked as happy again as ever. After breakfast, when the boys were alone, not a word would Harry say about where he had been, nor yet what his father had said to him: but I happen to knew that it was no wonder that Philip could not find him out in the garden, nor in stable, coach-house, green-house, tool-house, or any other place upon the premises; for the fact was, that the boy had rushed out of the hall-door and round to the back door, where he had entered and gone up the back stairs to his room, where Mr Inglis found him lying upon his bed. I know also that Mr Inglis had a long talk with his boy, and that something was said about running away, making the fault worse; but, as upon another occasion, when the Squire had a long talk with the boys in the library; I didn't feel disposed to play the spy, and then "tell tales out of school;" for I think that where correction or admonition is administered, it concerns only those to whom it relates; and I do not approve of a boy's best feelings being wounded, and his being also lowered in his self-esteem, by having witnesses of what takes place, or eaves-droppers, to carry the words about for other people to catch up and talk about afterwards. _ |
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