A Hero of Romance Page 3

  Chapter III

  AT MOTHER HUFFHAM'S

  It was only when Bailey and his friends were away from the house thatit occurred to them to consider what it was they had come out for.They slunk across the grass-grown courtyard, keeping as close to thewall as possible, to avoid the lynx-eyes of Mrs. Fletcher. That ladywas the only person in Mecklemburg House whose authority was notentirely contemned. Let who would be master, she would be mistress;and she had a way of impressing that fact upon those around her whichmade it quite impossible for those who came within reach of herinfluence to avoid respecting.

  It was truly miserable weather. Any one but a schoolboy would havebeen only too happy to have had a roof of any kind to shelter him, butschoolboys are peculiar. It was one of those damp mists which not onlypenetrate through the thickest clothing, and soak one to the skin, butwhich render it difficult to see twenty yards in front of one, even inthe middle of the day. The day was drawing in; ere long the lampswould be lighted; the world was already enshrouded in funeral gloom.Not a pleasant afternoon to choose for an expedition to nowhere inparticular, in quest of nothing at all.

  The boys slunk through the sodden mist, hands in their pockets, coatcollars 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 trudgedon. Alas for their promise to Mr. Shane! The wet was already drippingoff their hats, and splashings of mud were ascending up the legs oftheir trousers to about the middle of their back. In a minute or twoWheeler 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," saidEllis.

  Griffin was more concise. "Lend me twopence?" he asked.

  Wheeler looked unhappy. It appeared that he was the only capitalistamong the four, and under the circumstances he did not feel exactlyproud 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 tolend me anything, after my asking for you to come out with me, andall?"

  "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 littlewiry-built boy, and when he meant a thing very much indeed he had analmost terrier-like habit of snapping his jaws--he snapped them now.Bailey trudged by his side with an air of dudgeon; he probablyreflected that, after all, twopence was better than nothing. But Ellisand Griffin had their claims to urge. They apparently did notcontemplate with pleasure the prospect of tramping to and from thevillage 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 gamefor lending you."

  "Look here, I tell you what it is, I won't lend you a blessedfarthing! It's like your cheek to ask me; you owe me ninepence fromlast 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 youeighteenpence--you see if I don't. And if you'll lend me a penny nowI'll give you twopence for it in the morning. Do now, there's a goodfellow, 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 trudgedon. 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 totheir destination, and already bore a closer resemblance to drownedrats than living schoolboys. By the time they had gone there and backagain, it would be possible to wring the water out of their clothes;what Mrs. Fletcher would have to say remained to be seen. After theyhad gone a few yards further, and paddled through about half a dozenmore 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 gota 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, Griffinsubsided into speechless misery. It is not improbable that, so far ashe was himself concerned, he began to think that the expedition was afailure.

  In silence they reached the village. It was not a village ofportentous magnitude, since it only contained thirteen cottages andone shop, the shop being the smallest cottage in the place. Theonly point in its favour was that it was the nearest commercialestablishment to Mecklemburg House. The proprietor was a Mrs. Huffham,an ancient lady, with a very bad temper, and a still worsereputation--among the boys--for honesty in the direction of weightsand measures. It must be conceded that they could have had no worseopinion of her than she had of them.

  "Them young warmints, if they wants to buy a thing they wants ninetyounces to the pound, and if they wants to pay for it, they wants youto take eightpence for a shilling--oh, I knows 'em!" So Mrs. Huffhamdeclared.

  At the door of this emporium parley was held. Ellis suddenlyremembered something.

  "I say, I owe old Mother Huffham two-and-three." So far as thegathering mist and the soaking rain enabled one to see, Dick'scountenance wore a lugubrious expression.

  "Well, what of that?"

  "Well"--Dick Ellis hesitated--"so long as that brute Stephen isn'tabout 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 youngfellow of twenty-one or two, who drove the carrier's cart to Kingstonand back. His ideas on pecuniary obligations were primitive. Havinglearned from experience that it was vain to expect Mr. Fletcher to payhis pupils' debts at the village shop, he had an uncomfortable way oftaking it out of refractory debtors in the shape of personalchastisement. Endless disputes had arisen in consequence. Mr. Fletcherhad on more than one occasion threatened the summary Stephen with theterrors of the law; but Stephen had snapped his fingers at Mr.Fletcher, advising him to pay his own debts, lest worse thingshappened to him. Then Mr. Fletcher had forbidden Mrs. Huffham to givecredit to the boys; but Mrs. Huffham was an obstinate old lady, andtreated 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 wascarried on, and on more than one occasion the irate Stephen had beenmoved to violence.

  "You should have stopped at home," was Wheeler's not unreasonablereply to Dick's confession. "I don't owe her anything. I don't seewhat you wanted to come for, anyhow, if you haven't got any money andyou owe her two-and-three."

  And turning the handle of the rickety door he entered Mrs. Huffham'sfamed establishment. Bailey, rich in the possession of a prospectiveloan of twopence, and Charlie Griffin followed close upon his heels.After hesitating for a moment Ellis went in too. To remain shiveri
ngoutside would have been such a lame conclusion to a not otherwise toosatisfactory expedition, that it seemed to him like the last straw onthe camel's back. Besides, it was quite on the cards that theimpetuous Stephen would be engaged in his carrier's work, and bepleasantly conspicuous by his absence from home.

  The interior of the shop was pitchy dark. The little lightwhich remained without declined to penetrate through the smalllozenge-shaped windowpanes. Mrs. Huffham's lamp was not yet lit, andthe obscurity was increased by the quantity of goods, of almost everydescription, which crowded to overflowing the tiny shop. No one came.

  "Let's nick something," suggested the virtuously minded Griffin. Ellisacted 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 ofsweets. Dick reached up to get one down. At that moment Wheeler gavehim a jerk with his arm. Ellis, catching at the shelf to steadyhimself, brought down shelf, bottles and all, with a crash upon acounter.

  "Thieves!" cried a voice within. "Thieves!" and Mrs. Huffham cameclattering into the shop, out of some inner sanctum, with considerablehaste for one of her mature years. "Thieves!"

  For some moments the old lady's eyes could see nothing in the darknessof the shop. She stood, half in, half out, peering forward, where theboys could just see her dimly in the shadow. They, deeming discretionto be the better part of valour, and not knowing what damage theymight not have done, stood still as mice. Their first impulse was toturn and flee, and Griffin was just feeling for the handle of thedoor, preparatory to making a bolt for it, when heavy footsteps wereheard approaching outside, and the door was flung open with a forcewhich 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 hadrespected authority and listened to Mr. Shane! There was a coolnessand promptness about Stephen Huffham's method of taking the law intohis own hands upon emergency which formed the basis of many a tale ofterror to which they had listened when tucked between the sheets atnight in bed.

  Mr. Huffham waited for no reply to his question, but he laid an ironhand upon Griffin's shoulder and dragged him out into the light.

  "Come out of that! Oh, it's you, is it?" Charlie was gifted withconsiderable powers of denial, but he found it quite beyond his powerto 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 shrilltreble from the back of the shop.

  "Oh, they have, have they? We'll soon see about that. Unless I'mblinder than I used to be, there's young Ellis over there, with whomI've promised to have a word of a sort before to-day. You bring alight, granny, and look alive; don't keep these young gentlemenwaiting, not by no manner of means."

  Mrs. Huffham retreated to her parlour, and presently re-appeared witha lighted lamp in her hand. This, with great deliberation, for her oldbones were stiff, and rheumatism forbade anything like undue haste,she hung upon a nail, in such a position that its not too powerfullight shed as great an illumination as possible upon the contents ofher shop. Far too powerful an illumination to suit the boys, for itbrought into undue prominence the damage wrought by Ellis and hisfriend. They eyed the ruins, and Mrs. Huffham eyed them, and Mr.Stephen Huffham eyed them too. The old lady's feelings at the sightwere for a moment too deep for words, but Mr. Stephen Huffham soonfound speech.

  "Who did this?" he asked; and there was something in the tone of theinquiry which grated on his hearers' ears.

  Had Dick Ellis and his friend deliberately planned to do as muchmischief as possible in the shortest possible space of time, theycould scarcely have succeeded better. Three or four of the bottleswere broken to pieces, and in their fall they had fallen on a littleglass case, the chief pride and ornament of Mrs. Huffham's shop, whichwas divided into compartments, in one of which were cigars, in anotherreels of cotton and hanks of thread, and in a third such trifles aspackets of hair-pins, pots of pomade, note-paper and envelopes, and avariety of articles which might be classified under the generic nameof "fancy goods." The glass in this case was damaged beyond repair;the sweets from the broken bottles had got inside, and had becomemixed with the cigars, and the paper, and the hair-pins, and thepomade, and the rest of the varied contents.

  Mr. Stephen Huffman not finding himself favoured with an immediatereply to his inquiry, repeated it.

  "Who did this? Did you do this?" And he gave Charlie Griffin a shakewhich made him feel as though he were being shaken not only upsidedown, but inside out.

  "No-o-o!" said Charlie, as loudly as he was able with Mr. StephenHuffman 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 alonewhen I've taken all the skin off your bodies! Did you do this?" AndMr. Stephen Huffham transferred his attention to Bailey.

  "No!" roared Bertie, before Huffman had time to get him fairly in hisgrasp. Mr. Huffman held him at arm's length, and looked him full inthe face with an intensity of scrutiny which Bertie by no meansrelished.

  "I suppose none of you did do it; nobody ever does do these sort ofthings, 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 undulyelevated. But suddenly he turned upon Ellis with a roar which was notunlike 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; whowas it, then?" Mr. Huffham put this question in a tone of voice whichwould have been eminently useful had he been addressing some person acouple of miles away, but which in his present situation almost madethe panes of glass rattle in the windows. "Who was it, then?" And hecaught hold of Ellis and shook him with such velocity to and fro thatit was difficult for a moment to distinguish what it was that he wasshaking.

  "It--was--Whe-e-eler!" gasped Ellis, struggling with his breath.

  "Now, just you listen to me, you boys!" began Mr. Huffham. (They couldscarcely avoid listening to him, considering that he spoke in what wasmany degrees above a whisper.) "I'll put it this way, so that we canhave things fair and square, and know what we're a-doing of. There's apound's damage been done here, so perhaps one of you gentlemen willlet me have a sovereign. I'm not going to ask who did it; I'm notgoing to ask no questions at all: all I says is, perhaps one of youyoung gentlemen will let me have a sovereign." He stretched out hishand as though he expected to receive a sovereign then and there; asit happened he stretched it out in the direction of Bertie Bailey.

  Bertie looked at the horny, dirt-grimed palm, then up in Mr. Huffham'sface. A dog-fancier would have said that there was some scarcelydefinable 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 thedark?"

  "You let me finish what I've got to say, then you say your say outafterwards. What I say is this--there's a pound's worth of damagedone----"

  "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 itwas among you afterwards; and what I say is this, either you pays methat pound before you leave this shop or I'll give the whole four ofyou such a flogging as you never had in all your days--I'll skin youalive!"

  "It won't give me my money your flogging them," wailed Mrs. Huffhamfrom behind the counter. "It's my money I wants! Here is all thembottles broken, and the case smashed--and i
t 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 handover that there sovereign?"

  "Wheeler's got sevenpence," suggested Griffin.

  "Sevenpence! what's sevenpence? It's a pound I want! Which of you isgoing to fork up that there pound?"

  "There isn't a pound's worth of damage done," said Bertie; "nothinglike. If you let us go, we'll get five shillings somehow, and bring ityou in a week."

  "In a week--five shillings! you catch me at it! Why, if I was once tolet you outside that door, you'd put your fingers to your noses, andyou'd call out, 'There goes old Huffham! yah--h--h!'" And he gave avery fair imitation of the greeting which the sight of him was apt tocall 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 theway to put it, because I'll only just let you off with your life, I'lltell you. Look sharp; I want my tea! What's it going to be, yourmoney, or rather, my old grandmother's money over there, an oldwoman who finds it a pretty tight fit to keep herself out of theworkhouse----"

  "Yes, that she do," interpolated the grandmother in question.

  "Or your life?" He looked in turn from one boy to the other, andfinally his gaze rested on Bailey.

  Bertie met his eyes with a sullen stare. "I tell you I'd nothing to dowith 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 Iwouldn't believe you on your oath before a judge and jury, not that Iwouldn't!" and his fingers were snapped again. He and Bailey stood fora moment looking into each other's face.

  "If you hit me for what I didn't do, I'll do something worth hittingfor."

  "Will you?" Mr. Huffham caught him by the shoulder, and held him as ina 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 ashard as I'll hit him." A look came into Mr. Huffham's face which wasnot nice to see. Bailey never flinched; his hard-set jaw and sulleneyes made the resemblance to the bulldog more vivid still. "You pay methat pound!"

  "I wouldn't if I had it!"

  In an instant Mr. Huffham had swung him round, and was raining blowswith his clenched fist upon the boy's back and shoulders. But he hadreckoned without his host, if he had supposed the punishment would betaken quietly. The boy fought like a cat, and struggled and kickedwith such unlooked-for vigour that Mr. Huffham, driven against thecounter and not seeing what he was doing, struck out wildly, knockedthe lamp off its nail with his fist, and in an instant the boy and theman were struggling in the darkness on the floor.

  Just then a stentorian voice shouted through the glass window of therickety door,--

  "Bravo! that's the best plucked boy I've seen!"