"What's going on here?" said Vane to himself, as he was walking up the
town, and then, the colour rose to his cheeks, and he looked sharply
round to see if he was observed.
But Greythorpe town street was as empty as usual. There was Grader's
cat in the window, a dog asleep on a step, and a few chickens picking
about in front of the carrier's, while the only sounds were the clink,
clink of the blacksmith's hammer upon his anvil, and the brisk tapping
made by Chakes, as he neatly executed repairs upon a pair of shoes.
A guilty conscience needs no accuser, and, if it had not been for that
furtive visit to the clock, Vane would not have looked round to see if
he was observed before hurrying up to the church, and entering the
tower, for the open door suggested to him what was going on.
He mounted the spiral staircase, and, on reaching the clock-chamber, its
door being also open, Vane found himself looking at the back of a
bald-headed man in his shirt-sleeves, standing with an oily rag in his
hand, surrounded by wheels and other portions of the great clock.
Vane stopped short, and there was a good deal of colour in his face
still, as he watched the man till he turned.
"Come to put the clock right, Mr Gramp?" he said.
"How do, sir; how do? Yes, I've come over, and not before it was
wanted. Clocks is like human beings, sir, and gets out of order
sometimes. Mr Syme sent word days ago, but I was too busy to come
sooner."
"Ah!" said Vane, for the man was looking at him curiously.
"I hear she went a bit hard the other night, and set all the bells
a-ringing."
"No, only one," said Vane, quickly.
"And no wonder, when folks gets a-meddling with what they don't
understand. Do you know, sir--no, you'll never believe it--watch and
clock making's a hart?"
"A difficult art, too," said Vane, rather nervously.
"Eggs--actly, sir, and yet, here's your shoemaker--bah! your cobbler,
just because the church clock wants cleaning, just on the strength of
his having to wind it up, thinks he can do it without sending for me.
No, you couldn't believe it, sir, but, as true as my name's Gramp, he
did; and what does he do? Takes a couple of wheels out, and leaves 'em
tucked underneath. But, as sure as his name's Chakes, I'm going
straight up to the rectory as soon as I'm done, and if I don't--"
"No, no, don't," cried Vane, excitedly, for the turn matters had taken
was startling. "It was not Chakes, Mr Gramp; it was I."
"You, Mr Lee, sir? You?" cried the man, aghast with wonder. "Whatever
put it into your head to try and do such a thing as that? Mischief?"
"No, no, it was not that; the clock wouldn't go, and I came up here all
alone, and it did seem so tempting that I began to clean a wheel or two,
and then I wanted to do a little more, and a little more, and I got the
clock pretty well all to pieces; and then--somehow--well, two of the
wheels were left out."
The clockmaker burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
"I should think they were left out," he cried. "Then I must use your
name instead of Chakes, eh?"
"No, no, Mr Gramp; pray don't do that; the rector doesn't know. I only
told my uncle, and I wasn't thinking about you when I tried to set it
going."
"But, you see, sir, it was such a thing to do--to meddle with a big
church clock. If it had been an old Dutch with wooden works and sausage
weights, or a brass American, I shouldn't have said a word; but my
church clock, as I've tended for years! really, sir, you know it's too
bad a deal."
"Yes, Mr Gramp, it was too bad; a great piece of--of--assumption."
"Assumption, sir; yes, sir, that's the very word. Well, really, I
hardly know what to say."
"Say nothing, Mr Gramp."
"You did tell the doctor, sir?"
"Yes, I told uncle."
"Hum! I'm going to call at the Little Manor to see the doctor about the
tall eight-day. Perhaps I'd better consult him."
"Well, yes, speak to uncle if you like, but go by what he says."
The clockmaker nodded, and went on with his work, and from looking on,
Vane came to helping, and so an hour passed away, when it suddenly
occurred to him that Aunt Hannah had said something about a message she
wanted him to take, so he had unwillingly to leave the clock-chamber.
"Good-day, sir, good-day. I shall see you this evening."
"Yes, of course," said Vane; and then, as he hurried down the stairs, it
seemed as if there was to be quite a vexatious re-opening of the case.
"I do wish I had not touched the old thing," muttered Vane, as he went
back. "I couldn't offer him half-a-crown to hold his tongue.
Clockmaker's too big."
But he did not see the clockmaker again that day, for, as he entered the
little drawing-room--
"My dear," cried Aunt Hannah, "I was wishing that you would come. I
want you to go over to Lenby for me, and take this packet--a bottle,
mind, for Mrs Merry. It's a liniment your uncle has made up for her
rheumatism."
"Mrs Merry, aunt?"
"Yes, my dear, at the far end of the village; she's quite a martyr to
her complaint, and I got your uncle to call and see her last time you
were out for a drive. Have the pony if you like."
"Yes, take her, boy," said the doctor. "She is getting too fat with
good living. No; I forgot she was to be taken to the blacksmith's to be
shod this afternoon."
"All right, uncle, I'll walk over," cried Vane, "I shall enjoy it."
"Well, it will not do you any harm. Go across the rough land at the
edge of the forest. You may find a few ferns worth bringing for the
greenhouse. And pray try for a few fungi."
Vane nodded, thrust the packet in his breast, and, taking trowel and
basket, he started for his three-miles cross-country walk to Lenby, a
tiny village, famous for its spire, which was invisible till it was
nearly reached, the place lying in a nook in the wold hills, which, in
that particular part, were clothed with high beeches of ancient growth.
The late autumn afternoon was glorious, and the little town was soon
left behind, the lane followed for a time, but no gipsy van or cart
visible, though there was the trace of the last fire. Being deep down
in the cutting-like hollow, Vane could not see over the bank, where a
donkey was grazing amongst the furze, while, completely hidden in a
hollow, there was one of those sleeping tents, formed by planting two
rows of willow sticks a few feet apart and then bending over the tops,
tying them together, and spreading a tilt over all.
This was invisible to the boy and so were the heads of the two stout
gipsy lads, who peered down at him from a little farther on, and then
drew softly away to shelter themselves among the bushes and ferns till
they were beyond hearing. When, stooping low, they ran off towards the
wood, but in a stealthy furtive manner as if they were trying to stalk
some wild animal and cut it off farther on, where the place was most
solitary and wild.
In happy ignorance of the interest taken in his proceedings, Vane
trudged along till it seemed to him that it was time to climb up out of
the lane by the steep sand bank, and this he did, but paused half-way
without a scientific or inventive idea in his head, ready to prove
himself as boyish as anyone of his years, for he had come upon a
magnificent patch of brambles sending up in the hot autumn sunshine cone
after cone of the blackest of blackberries such as made him drive his
toes into the loose sand to get a better foothold, and long for a
suitable basket, the one he carried being a mere leather bag.
"Aunt would like a lot of these," he thought, and resisting the
temptation to have a feast he left them on the chance of finding them
next day when he could come provided with a basket. For blackberries
found as much favour with Aunt Hannah as the doctor's choicest plums or
apples.
A little higher, though, Vane paused again to stain his fingers and lips
with the luscious fruit, which, thanks to the American example, people
have just found to be worthy of cultivation in their gardens.
"'Licious," said Vane, with a smack of the lips, and then, mounting to
the top of the bank he stood for a few moments gazing at the glorious
prospect, all beautiful cultivation on his right, all wild grass, fern,
and forest on his left.
This last took most of his attention, as he mapped out his course by the
nearest way to the great clump of beeches which towered above the oaks,
and then at once strode onward, finding an easy way where a stranger
would soon have found himself stuck fast, hedged in by thorns.
"I'll come back by the road," thought Vane. "After all it's better and
less tiring."
But with the beeches well in view, he made light of the difficulties of
the little trodden district, which seemed to be quite a sanctuary for
the partridges, three coveys rising, as he went on, with a tremendous
rush and whirr of wing, to fly swiftly for a distance, and then glide on
up and down, rising at clumps of furze, and clearing them, to descend
into hollows and rise again apparently, after the first rush, without
beat of wing.
"It's very curious, that flying," said Vane to himself, as he stood
sheltering his eyes to watch the last covey till it passed out of
sight--"ten of them, and they went along just as if they had nothing to
do but will themselves over the ground. It must be a fine thing to fly.
Find it out some day," he said; and he hurried on again to reach the
spot where a little rill made a demarcation between the sand and bog he
had traversed, and the chalk which rose now in a sharp slope on the
other side.
He drew back a little way, took a run and leaped right across the
cress-bordered clear water, alighting on hard chalk pebbles, and causing
a wild splashing and rustling as a pair of moor-hens rose from amongst
the cress, their hollow wings beating hard, their long green legs and
attenuated toes hanging apparently nerveless beneath them, and giving a
slight glimpse of their coral-coloured beak, and crests and a full view
of the pure white and black of their short barred tail ere they
disappeared amongst the bulrushes which studded one side of the winding
stream.
Vane watched them for a moment or two, and shook his head.
"Partridges beat them hollow. Wonder whether I can find uncle any
truffles."
He made for the shade of the beeches, passing at once on to a crackling
carpet of old beech-mast and half rotten leaves, while all around him
the great trees sent up their wonderfully clean, even-lined trunks, and
boughs laden with dark green leaves, and the bronzy brown-red cases of
the tiny triangular nuts, the former ready now to gape and drop their
sweet contents where those of the past year had fallen before.
"Pity beech-nuts are so small," he said, as he stood looking up in the
midst of a glade where the tall branches of a dozen regularly planted
trees curved over to meet those of another dozen, and touching in the
centre, shutting out the light, and forming a natural cathedral nave,
such as might very well have suggested a building to the first gothic
architect for working the design in stone.
"Ought to be plenty here," said Vane to himself after drinking his fill
of the glorious scene with its side aisles and verdant chapels all
around; and stooping down at the foot of one tree, he began with the
little trowel which he had taken from his pocket to scrape away the
black coating of decayed leaves, and then dig here and there for the
curious tubers likely to be found in such a place, but without result.
"Hope uncle hasn't bought a turkey to stuff with truffles," he said with
a laugh, as he tried another place; "the basket does not promise to be
very heavy."
He had no better luck here, and he tried another, in each case carefully
scratching away the dead leaves to bare the soft leaf-mould, and then
dig carefully.
"Want a truffle dog, or a pig," he muttered; and then he pounced upon a
tuber about twice as large as a walnut, thrusting it proudly into his
basket.
"Where one is, there are sure to be others," he said; and he resumed his
efforts, finding another and another, all in the same spot.
"Why, I shall get a basketful," he thought, and he began to dwell
pleasantly upon the satisfaction the sight of his successful foray would
give the doctor, who had a special penchant for truffles, and had often
talked about what expensive delicacies they were for those who dwelt in
London.
Encouraged then by his success, he went on scraping and grubbing away
eagerly with more or less success, while the task grew more mechanical,
and after feeling that his bottle was safe in his breast-pocket, he
began to think that it was time to leave off, and go on his mission; but
directly after, as he was rubbing the clean leaf-mould from off a tuber,
his thoughts turned to Distin, and the undoubted enmity he displayed.
"If it was not such a strong term," he said to himself, "I should be
ready to say he hates me, and would do me any ill-turn he could."
He had hardly thought this, and was placing his truffle in the basket,
when a faint noise toward the edge of the wood where the sun poured in,
casting dark shadows from the tree-trunks, made him look sharply in that
direction.
For a few moments he saw nothing, and he was about to credit a rabbit
with the sound, when it suddenly struck him that one of the shadows cast
on the ground not far distant had moved slightly, and as he fixed his
eyes upon it intently, he saw that it was not a shadow cast by a tree,
unless it was one that had a double trunk for some distance up and then
these joined. The next moment he was convinced:--for it was the shadow
of a human being hiding behind a good-sized beech, probably in profound
ignorance that his presence was clearly shown to the person from whom he
was trying to hide.