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Quicksilver; The Boy With No Skid To His Wheel, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 42. Bob Dimsted's Medicine |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO. BOB DIMSTED'S MEDICINE It was some time before Dexter could summon up courage to go down to the breakfast-room. That he was expected, he knew, for Mrs Millett had been to his door twice, and said first that breakfast was ready, and, secondly, that master was waiting. When he did go in, he could hardly believe that he had been away, for there was a kiss from Helen, and a frank "Good morning," and shake of the hand from the doctor, not the slightest allusion being made to the past till breakfast was nearly over, when Maria brought in a note. "Hah! From Limpney," said the doctor. "I sent Peter on to say that Dexter was back, and that I should like the lessons to be resumed this morning." Dexter's eyes lit up. The idea of being busy over lessons once more seemed delightful. "Confound his impudence!" said the doctor angrily, as he ran through the note. "Hark here, Helen: 'Mr Limpney's compliments, and he begs to decline to continue the tuition at Dr Grayson's house.'" Helen made a gesture, and glanced at her father meaningly-- "Eh? Oh! Ah! Yes, my dear. Well, Dexter, you'll have to amuse yourself in the garden this morning. Go and have a few hours' fishing." "If you please, sir, I'd rather stay in here if I might, and read." "No, no, no," said the doctor cheerily. "Fine morning. Get Peter to dig you some worms, and I'll come and look at you presently. It's all right, my boy. We said last night we'd draw a veil over the past, eh? You go and have a good morning's fishing." Dexter was at his side in a moment, had thrust his hand in the doctor's, and then fled from the room. "Want to show him we've full confidence in him again. Bah, no! That boy couldn't look you in the face and tell you a lie. My dear Helen, I'm as certain of my theory being correct as of anything in the world. But hang that Limpney for a narrow-minded, classic-stuffed, mathematic-bristling prig! We'll have a better." Dexter felt a strange hesitancy; but the doctor evidently wished him to go and fish, so he took his rod, line, and basket, and was crossing the hall when he encountered Mrs Millett. "It was very nice of you, my dear, and I'm sure it will do you good. You did take it all now, didn't you?" "Yes, every drop," said Dexter, smiling; and the old lady went away evidently highly gratified. Old Dan'l was busy tidying up a flower-bed as he reached the lawn, and, to Dexter's astonishment, he nodded and gave him another of his cast-iron smiles. Further down the garden Peter was at work. "Dig you up a few worms, Master Dexter? Course I will. Come round to the back of the old frames." A curious sensation of choking troubled Dexter for a few moments, but it passed off, and in a short time he was furnished with a bag of red worms, and walking down to the river he sat down and began to fish with his mind going back to the night of his running away, and he seemed to see it all again; the undressing, the hesitation, and the cold plunge after his clothes, and all the rest of the miserable dreary time which had proved so different from what he had pictured in his mind. Peter had said that the fish would "bite like fun at them worms." But they did not, for they had no chance. The worms crawled round and round the canvas bag, and played at making Gordian knots with each other, while several fish came and looked at the unbaited hook which Dexter offered for their inspection, but preferred to leave the barbed steel alone. For quite half an hour Dexter sat there dreamily gazing at his float, but seeing nothing but the past, when he started to his feet, for there was a splash in the water close to his feet, the drops flying over him, and there, across the river, grinning and looking very dirty, was Bob Dimsted. "Yah! Who stole the boat?" he cried. Dexter flushed up, but he made no reply. Only took out his line, and this time he baited it and threw in again. "Yah; who stole the boat!" cried Bob again. "I say, ain't he been licked? Ain't his back sore?" Dexter set his teeth hard and stared at his float, as Bob baited his own line, and threw in just opposite, to begin fishing just as if nothing had happened. It was a painful position. To go on fishing was like taking up with Bob again; to go away seemed like being afraid. But Dexter determined upon this last, drew out his line, and was stooping to pick up his basket, when Bob broke into a derisive war-dance-- "Yah, yah!" he cried. "Yer 'bliged to go. Yah! yer miserable, white-faced sneak! g'ome! g'ome! yah!" Dexter banged down his basket again, and threw in his line with a big splash, as his eyes flashed defiance across the stream. "Ah! it's all very fine," said Bob; "but yer dussen't do that if it weren't for the river. Why, if I'd got yer here I'd bung both yer eyes up for yer. Yah! yer sneak!" "Here, you just be off. D'yer hear!" cried an angry voice; and Peter came up, broom in hand. "She yarn't," cried Bob? "Who are you? This ain't your field. Stop as long as I like. Yah!" "Wish I was over the other side and I'd pitch you in, you sarcy young vagabond." "So are you!" cried Bob. "You dussen't touch me. Fish here as long as I like. Pair o' cowards, that's what you are--pair o' cowards. Fight either of yer one hand." "Wish we was over there," said Peter; "and we'd make you sing another song, my fine fellow." "Would yer? Yah! who cares for you!" "Look here, you've no business to come opposite our place to fish!" cried Peter, "so be off!" "Yah! 'tain't your place. Stop and fish here as long as I like; and if ever I meet him anywheres I'll give him such a licking as'll make him squeal." "You be off!" "Shan't." "Oh, you won't, won't you?" cried a gruff voice; and old Dan'l came from behind a laurustinus clump. "You, Peter--you go and get a basket full o' them brickbats from down by the frames, and we'll soon see whether he'll stop there." "Yah! go on with your old brickbats. Who cares for you!" cried Bob. "Yah! look at him! Who stole the boat, and cried to go home again? Who stole the boat?" "Oh, if I could only get across!" said Dexter, in a hoarse low voice. "Would you give it him if you could!" said old Dan'l, with a grim laugh. "Yes," said Dexter, between his teeth. "Ay, he would, Dan'l," said Peter excitedly. "I wish he was over yonder." "Yah! yah! look at the old caterpillar-killers," cried Bob. "Who stole the boat? Yah!" These last were farewell shots. "They won't bite here," cried Bob, moving off, "but don't you think you frightened me away. Come as often as I like. Yah! take him home!" Dexter's face was scarlet as he watched his departing enemy, thinking the while of his own folly in leaving his friends for such a wretched young cur as that. "Think he would?" said Peter. "Ay, two on him," said Dan'l, after glancing cautiously up toward the house. "Shall us?" "Ay, if you like, my lad," said Dan'l. "Say, youngster, if we help you acrost will you go and start him outer the west medder?" "Yes," cried Dexter excitedly. "All right. Don't make a row." Old Dan'l went off, and Peter followed, to return in five minutes with a great shallow wooden cistern across the long barrow, old Dan'l looking very grim as he walked by his side, and carrying the familiar clothes-prop. "There, that's as good as a punt," he said. "Look here! You'd better kneel down on it; I should take off my jacket and weskit, and roll up my sleeves, if I was you." Dexter's eyes sparkled as he followed this bit of advice, while Dan'l took one end of the cistern, Peter the other, and they gently launched it in the little river. "Ain't scared of him, are yer!" said Dan'l. Dexter gave him a sharp look. "That he ain't," said Peter. "Look here, Master Dexter," he whispered, "don't let him hug you, but give it him right straight out, and he'll be down and howl in two two's." Dexter made no reply, but stepped into the great shallow punt-like contrivance, seized the prop handed to him, and prepared to use it, but the strong steady thrust given by Peter sent him well on his journey, and in less than a minute he was across. "Come on, Dan'l," cried Peter. "Don't I wish we was acrost too!" They crept among the trees at the extreme corner of the garden, where they could hold on by the boughs, and crane their necks over the river, so as to see Dexter tearing along the opposite bank into the next meadow where Bob was fishing, in happy ignorance of the approach of danger; and, to further take off his attention, he had just hooked a good-sized perch, and was playing it, when Dexter, boiling over with the recollection of many injuries culminating in Bob's cowardly lies, came close up and gave a formal announcement of his presence by administering a sounding crack on the ear. Bob dropped his rod into the river, and nearly jumped after it as he uttered a howl. "Look at that!" cried Peter, giving one of his legs a slap. "Oh, I wish I was there!" Bob was as big a coward as ever stepped. So is a rat; but when driven to bay a rat will fight. Bob was at bay, and he, being in pain, began to fight by lowering his head and rushing at his adversary. Dexter avoided the onslaught, and gave Bob another crack on the ear. Then, trusting in his superior size and strength, Bob dashed at Dexter again, and for a full quarter of an hour there was a fierce up and down fight, which was exceedingly blackguardly and reprehensible no doubt, but under the circumstances perfectly natural. Dexter got a good deal knocked about, especially whenever Bob closed with him; but he did not get knocked about for nothing. Very soon there were a number of unpleasant ruddy stains upon his clean white shirt, but the blood was Bob's, and consequent upon a sensation of his nose being knocked all on one side. There was a tooth out--a very white one on the grass, but that tooth was Bob's, and, in addition, that young gentleman's eyes wore the aspect of his having been interviewing a wasps' nest, for they were rapidly closing up, and his whole face assuming the appearance of a very large and puffy unbaked bun. Then there was a cessation of the up and down fighting; Bob was lying on his back howling after his customary canine fashion, and Dexter was standing over him with his doubled fists, his face flushed, his eyes flashing, teeth set, and his curly hair shining in the sun. "It's splendid, Dan'l, old man," cried Peter, slapping his fellow-servant on the back. "I wouldn't ha' missed it for half a crown." "No," said Dan'l. "Hang him! he's got some pluck in him if he ain't got no breed. Brayvo, young un! I never liked yer half--" Dan'l stopped short, and Peter stepped back against the dividing fence. "Beg pardon, sir?" "I said how did that boy get across the river!" said the doctor sternly. There was no reply. "Now no subterfuges," said the doctor sharply. Peter looked at Dan'l in dismay, but Dan'l spoke out-- "Well, sir, beg pardon, sir, that young cub come up to the side abusing Master Dexter, and calling him names, and he let us have it too." "Yes; go on." "Well, sir, Master Dexter was a-chafing like a greyhound again his collar, and Peter and me fetched the old wooden cistern, and let him punt hisself across, and the way he went into him, sir--boy half as big again as hisself, and--" "That will do," said the doctor sternly. "Here, Dexter! Come here, sir!" Dexter turned in dismay, and came faltering back. "The moment he is home again!" said the doctor angrily. "Yah! Coward! G'ome, g'ome!" yelled Bob, jumping up on seeing his enemy in retreat. "Come here again and I'll knock yer silly. Yah!" "Dexter!" roared the doctor; "go back and knock that young blackguard's head off. Quick! Give it him! No mercy!" Dexter flew back, but Bob flew faster to the hedge, where he leaped and stuck; Dexter overtaking him then, and administering one punch which drove his adversary through, and he got up and ran on again. "Hi! Dexter!" shouted the doctor; and the boy returned slowly, as Peter stood screwing up his face to look serious, and Dan'l gave his master one of his cast-iron smiles. "Well, yes, Dan'l, it was excusable under the circumstances," said the doctor. "But I do not approve of fighting, and--er--don't say anything about it indoors." "No, sir, cert'nly not, sir," said the men, in a breath; and just then Dexter stood on the far bank looking anxiously across. "Mind how you come," cried the doctor. "That's right; be careful. Give me your hand. Bless my soul! the skin's off your knuckles. We shall have to tell Miss Grayson after all." Dexter looked up at him wildly. He could not speak. "Better put that cistern back," said the doctor quickly; and then to Dexter-- "There, slip on your things, and go up to your room and bathe your face and hands. No, stop! I'll go on first, and shut the drawing-room door." The doctor hurried away, and as soon as he was out of sight, Dexter, who had slowly put on his waistcoat and jacket, gazed disconsolately at the two men. "What shall I do?" he said dolefully. "Do!" cried Peter; "why, you did it splendid: he won't come no more." "But the doctor!" faltered Dexter, with the spirit and effervescence all gone. "What, master!" cried Dan'l. "He won't say no more. Here, shake hands, my lad. It was fine." "Hi! Dexter! Here, my boy, quick!" came the doctor's voice. "It's all right. She has gone out." "There!" said Dan'l, laughing; and Dexter ran in. _ |
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