"Come in!"
"Mustn't. Forbidden," said Mercer to me, and he knocked again.
"Don't want any!" shouted the same voice, and a big, sour-looking,
dark-faced woman came to the door.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Master Mercer? What do you want?"
"I say, Cookie, this is the new boy."
"Nice pair of you, I'll be bound," she said roughly.
"We've been out, and had an accident, and tumbled into a pond."
"Serve you both right. Wonder you weren't both drowned," she said
sharply.
"Don't tell anybody," continued Mercer, in no wise alarmed. "We nearly
were, only Jem Roff at Dawson's farm came and pulled us out."
"Oh, my dear bairns," cried the woman, with her face and voice changing,
"what would your poor mammas have said?"
"It's all right, though," said Mercer, "only our things are soaked. Do
have 'em down and dried for us by the morning."
"Why, of course I will, my dears."
"And, Cookie, we haven't had any dinner, and it's only bread and butter
and milk and water."
"Yes; coming," cried the woman, as a door was heard to open, and a voice
to call.
"Go along," she said. "They're calling for the bread and butter. You
look under your pillows when you go to bed."
"It's all right," said Mercer. "Come along. She came from our town,
and knows our people. My father set her brother-in-law's leg once,
after he'd tumbled off a hay stack. Isn't she a gruff one when she
likes! This way. Let's get in our places now."
We went in to tea, which was only tea for Mr Rebble, who had a small
black pot to himself, and a tiny jug of cream; but the bread and butter
and milk and water were delicious, and I had made so good a meal that I
had forgotten all about our visit to the cook till we had been in bed
some time. I was just dozing off to sleep, when I was roused up by
Mercer's hand laid across my mouth.
"Don't speak," he whispered; "the others are asleep. Boiled beef
sandwiches in a paper bag, and two jam puffs."
"What?" I whispered. "Where?"
"Here--in my fist. They were tucked under my pillow. Now, then, pitch
in."
I sat up in bed, and Mercer sat up in his. It was so dark that we could
hardly see each other, but the darkness was no hindrance to our eating,
and the next minute there was a sound which may be best expressed as
ruminating, varied by the faint rustle made by a hand gliding into a
paper bag, followed after a long interval by a faint sigh, and--
"Good-night."
"Good-night."
"Think we shall catch cold?"
"I hope not."
"If we do, I've got some capital stuff in a bottle to cure colds, and
I'll give you some."
"Thank you," I said, and there was a pause.
"Are you asleep?" I said after a time, during which I had lain thinking
about our experience of the day.
"No."
"What are you thinking about?"
"I was wondering whether Mr and Mrs Jem Roff ate all that eel."
Mercer did not say any more just then, and I seemed to glide back into
the cottage, where Mrs Roff was frying eel in a pan over the fire, and
just as they had asked me to supper, and I was taking my place, a big
bell began to ring, and Mercer shouted,--
"Now, Burr junior, time to get up."
I started and looked round, to see that the sunshine was flooding the
room, and that the occupants of the other beds were sitting up grinding
their knuckles into their eyes, and yawning as if in chorus.