"What is the meaning of this!" cried Sir James furiously.
Dexter was speechless, and he shrank back staring.
Edgar was ready with an answer. "He's knocking me about, pa. He has
done nothing but knock me about ever since he came."
"Oh!" cried Dexter in a voice full of indignant astonishment. "I
didn't. He begun it, and I didn't, indeed."
"Silence, sir!" cried Sir James, in his severest magisterial tones.
"How dare you tell me such a falsehood? I saw you ill-using my son as
you held him down."
"Why, he had got hold of my hand!" cried Dexter indignantly.
"Got hold of your hand, sir? How dare you? How dare you, sir, I say?
I've a great mind to--"
Sir James did not finish his speech, but made a gesture with the
walking-cane he carried; and just then there was a loud hysterical
shriek.
For Lady Danby had realised the fact that something was wrong from the
part of the garden where she was promenading, parasol in hand, and she
came now panting up, in the full belief that some accident had happened
to her darling, and that he was drowned.
"Eddy, Eddy!" she cried, as she came up; and then as soon as she caught
sight of his anything but pleasant-looking countenance, she shrieked
again wildly, and flung herself upon her knees beside him. "What is it?
What is it, my darling?" she sobbed, as she caught him to her heart.
"That horrid boy! Knocking me about," he cried, stopping his howling so
as to deliver the words emphatically; and then looking at his stained
hands, and bursting into a howl of far greater power than before.
"The wretch! The wretch!" cried Lady Danby. "I always knew it. He has
killed my darling."
At this dire announcement Edgar shook himself free from his mother's
embrace, looked at his hands again, and then in the extremity of horror,
threw himself flat upon his back, and shrieked and kicked.
"O my darling, my darling!" cried Lady Danby.
"He isn't hurt much," cried Dexter indignantly.
"How dare you, sir!" roared Sir James.
"He's killed; he's killed!" cried Lady Danby, clasping her hands, and
rocking herself to and fro as she gazed at the shrieking boy, who only
wanted a cold sponge and a towel to set him right.
"Ow!" yelled Edgar, as he appreciated the sympathy of his mother, but
believed the very worst of his unfortunate condition. The lady now bent
over him, said that he was killed, and of course she must have known.
Edgar had never read _Uncle Remus_. All this was before the period when
that book appeared; but his conduct might very well be taken as a type
of that of the celebrated Brer Fox when Brer Rabbit was in doubt as to
whether he was really dead or only practising a ruse, and proceeded to
test his truth by saying, as he saw him stretched out--
"Brer Fox look like he dead, but he don't do like he dead. Dead fokes
hists up de behime leg, en hollers _wahoo_!"
Edgar, according to Brer Rabbit's ideas, was very dead indeed, for he
kept on "histing up de behime leg, en hollering _wahoo_!" with the full
power of his lungs.
By this time the alarm had spread, and there was the sound of steps upon
a gravel walk, which resulted in the appearance of the supercilious
footman.
"Carry Master Edgar up to the house," said Sir James, in his severest
magisterial tones.
"Carefully--very carefully," wailed her ladyship piteously; and she
looked and spoke as if she feared that as soon as the boy was touched he
would tumble all to pieces.
Dexter looked on, with his eyes turning here and there, like those of
some captured wild animal which fears danger; and as he looked he caught
sight of the footman gazing at him with a peculiar grin upon his
countenance, which seemed to be quite friendly, and indicated that the
man rather enjoyed the plight in which his young master was plunged.
Master Edgar howled again as he was raised, and directly after began to
indulge in what the plantation negroes used to call "playing 'possum"--
that is to say, he suddenly became limp and inert, closing his eyes, and
letting his head roll about, as if there were no more bone left in his
body, while his mother wrung her hands, and tried then to hold the head
steady, as the footman prepared to move toward the house.
"Now, sir," said Sir James sternly, "come here. We will have a few
words about this in my library."
Accustomed for years past to obey, Dexter took a step forward to
accompany the stern-looking man before him to the house; but such a
panorama of troublous scenes rose before his mind's eye directly, that
he stopped short, gave one hasty glance round, and then, as Sir James
stretched forth his hand, he made one bound which landed him in a clump
of hollyhocks and dahlias; another which took him on to the grass; and
then, with a rush, he dashed into a clump of rhododendrons, went through
them, and ran as hard as he could go toward the house.
For a few moments Sir James was too much astounded to speak. This was
something new. He was accustomed to order, and to be obeyed.
He had ordered Dexter to come to him, and for answer the boy had dashed
away.
As soon as Sir James could recover his breath, taken away in his
astonishment, he began to shout--
"Stop, sir! Do you hear? How dare you?"
If a hundred Sir Jameses had been shouting it would not have stayed
Dexter, for he had only one idea in his head just then, and that was to
get away.
"Put down Master Edgar, and go and fetch that boy back."
"Carefully! Oh, pray, put him down carefully," cried Lady Danby
passionately.
Just then Master Edgar uttered a fresh cry, and his mother wailed
loudly.
"No, never mind," cried Sir James, "carry him up to the house; I will
fetch that young rascal."
He strode off angrily, evidently believing in his own mind that he
really was going to fetch Dexter back; but by that time the boy had
reached the house, ran round by the side, dashed down the main street,
and was soon after approaching the bridge over the river, beyond which
lay the Union and the schools.