The Vicar stopped and chatted, taking his seat upon the stool Tom had I
before offered, and watched the process of making the speculum for some
time before leaving, and then, shaking hands with Tom, he said,
smiling--
"Shows how careful one ought to be in suspecting people, Tom Blount. We
are none of us perfect. Good-bye."
"That's a hint for us, Tom," said Uncle Richard, as soon as they were
alone. "Perhaps you are wrong about Master Pete Warboys too."
Tom thought about the pears thrown at Pete by his cousin, and shook his
head.
"Pete wouldn't have been peeping over the wall, uncle, if he had not
meant mischief."
"Perhaps not, Tom; but he may have meant mischief to you, and not to my
pears."
Tom laughed, and they soon after went in to dinner.
That afternoon, and for an hour and a half in the evening, they worked
again at the speculum by lamp-light, so that Tom was pretty tired when
they gave up and returned to the cottage.
"Going to watch for the fruit burglar to-night, Tom?" asked Uncle
Richard.
"Oh yes, uncle. I feel ten times as eager now Mr Maxted's plums have
been stolen;" and, punctual to the moment, he stole down the garden,
walking upon the velvety lawn, and advancing so silently upon David,
that the gardener uttered a cry of alarm.
"Quite made me jump, Master Tom, coming on me so quiet like."
"I thought he might be hanging about," whispered back Tom. "Going to
watch from the same place?"
"Ay, sir. Couldn't be better. Once we hear him at the pears we can
drop upon him like two cats on a mouse."
"Yes," said Tom; "but we must mind and not scratch ourselves, David."
"Ay, we'll take care o' that, sir. But mind, no talking. Got your
stick?"
"I stuck it upright in the second black-currant tree. Yes, here it is."
"That's right then, sir. There's your place, and I've got something
better for you this time. I stuffed two sacks full o' hay, and you can
sit down now like on a cushion, and pull the horse-cloth you'll find
folded up over you."
"But what about you?"
"Oh, I've got one too, sir. I'm all right. Now then--mum!"
The hay made a faint sound as they both sat down after a glance round
and listening intently. Then Tom pulled the horse-cloth up over his
knees, for the night was chilly, and found it very warm and comfortable.
Then the various sounds from the village reached him--the barking of
dogs, voices, the striking of the clock, the noise of wheels, the
donkey's braying, with a regularity wonderfully like that of the
previous night, and then all silence and darkness, and ears strained to
hear the rustling sound which must be made by any one climbing over the
wall.
The time glided on; and as it grew colder, Tom softly drew the rug
cloak-fashion over his shoulders, listened to note whether David made
any remark about the rustling sound he made, but all the gardener said
was something which resembled the word _ghark_, which was followed by
very heavy breathing.
"Gone to sleep again," said Tom to himself. "What's the good of his
pretending to sit and watch?"
He secured his hazel, aimed for where his companion sat in the next
alley between the blackcurrants, and gave him a poke with the point.
But this had not the slightest effect, and another and another were
administered, but without the least result; and thinking that he would
have to administer a smart cut to wake up his companion, Tom set himself
to watch alone.
"Don't matter," he muttered. "I can manage just as well without him."
And then he sat in the thick darkness, with his ears strained to catch
the slightest noise, thinking over the Vicar's visit that day, and about
how he would like to catch Master Pete.
It was very warm and comfortable inside the horse-cloth, and must have
been close upon nine o'clock, but he had not heard it strike. David was
breathing regularly, so loudly sometimes that Tom felt disposed to rouse
him up; but each time the breathing became easier, and he refrained.
"I don't mind," thought Tom. "I dare say he is very tired, and I don't
want to talk to him. He's company all the same, even if he is asleep.
Wonder whether this speculum will turn out all right."
David was breathing very hard now, but if Pete came he would make too
much noise in moving to notice the sound. Besides, he would not suspect
that any one was watching out there in the darkness.
But the breathing was very loud now, and how warm and cosy and
comfortable it was inside the rug! The hay, too, was very soft, and the
stick all ready for Master Pete when he came. It would be so easy to
hear him too, for David's heavy breathing, that was first cousin to a
snore, now ceased, and the slightest sound made by any one coming--and
then it was all blank.
How long?
Tom suddenly started up with but one thought that seemed to crush him.
"Why, I've been asleep!"
A feeling of rage against himself came over him, and then like a flash
his thoughts were off in another direction, for, just in front, he could
hear a rustling sound, as if some one was stirring leaves, and, stealing
forward, he could just faintly see what appeared like a shadow busy at
the Marie Louise pear-tree.
"Then he has come," thought Tom, as his hand closed upon the stick he
still held. Softly letting the horse-cloth glide from his shoulders, he
raised himself gently, feeling horribly stiff, but getting upon his legs
without a sound.
And all the time there was the rustling, plucking sound going on at the
tree upon the wall, as the shadow moved along it slowly.
All this was only a matter of moments, and included a thought which came
to Tom's busy brain--should he try to awaken David?
"If I do," he felt, "there will be noise enough to scare the thief, and
he'll escape."
There was no time to argue further with himself. He knew that he had
been asleep, for how long he could not tell; but his heart throbbed as
he felt that he had awakened just in the nick of time, and he was about
to act.
Keeping in a stooping position, he crept forward foot by foot without
making a sound, till he was on the edge of the walk which extended to
right and left; beyond it there was about six feet of border, and then
the wall with the tree, and almost within reach the figure, more plain
to see now, as it bent down evidently searching upon the ground for
fallen pears.
One stride--a stride taken quick as thought, with the stout hazel stick
well raised in the air, just as the figure was stooping lowest. Then--
_Whoosh! Thwack_!
A stinging blow, given with all the boy's nervous force, as with a bound
he threw all his strength into the cut.
"Yah!"
A tremendous yell, a rush, and before Tom could get more than one other
stroke to tell, the pear-seeker was running along the soft border,
evidently making for the far corner of the garden, where the fence took
the place of the wall.
The chord is shorter than the arc; and this applies to walks in gardens
as well as geometry, only people generally call that which amounts to
the chord the short cut.
Tom took the short cut, so as to meet Pete, but in the darkness he did
not pause to think. For a moment all was silent, and the enemy had
evidently stopped to hide.
"But he must be close here," thought Tom, as he reached the end of the
cross walk, past which he felt that the boy must come; and to startle
him into showing where he was Tom made a sudden rush.
That rush was made too quickly; for he felt himself seized, and before
he could do anything, whack! whack! came two cuts on one leg.
"Got yer then, have I?" was growled in his ear; and then came loudly,
"Master Tom! here! sharp!"
"I am here," roared Tom. "What are you doing? Don't."
"Master Tom!"
"David! But never mind; look sharp! He's close to us somewhere. I saw
him under the pear-tree, and got one cut at him."
"Got two cuts at him," growled David savagely. "I know yer did. That
was me!"
"Halloo there! Tom! David! Got him?"
"Got him!" growled David. "Got it, you mean. Hi! Yes, sir. Here we
are."
Uncle Richard was on the way down the path.
"What was the meaning of that yell I heard?" he said, as he drew near.
Neither replied.
"Do you hear, Tom? What was that noise?"
"It was a mistake, uncle," cried Tom, rubbing his leg.
"Mistake? I said that yell. Oh, here you are."
"Yes, uncle; it was a mistake. I hit David in the dark, and he holloaed
out."
"And enough to make any one, warn't it, sir? Scythes and scithers, it
was a sharp 'un!"
"I don't think it was any sharper than the two you hit me, David," said
Tom, who was writhing a little as he rubbed.
"Why, you two have never been so stupid as to attack each other in the
dark, have you?" said Uncle Richard.
"I'm afraid so, uncle. I saw something by the tree and heard a
rustling, and I thought it must be Pete Warboys."
"But you should ha' spoke, sir," cried David, from over the other side
now. "Mussy on us, you did hit hard."
"Yes; I thought it was Pete, and that he had come at last."
"Come at last!" grumbled David, as Uncle Richard stood silently shaking
with laughter. "Why, he's been--"
Just then there was a scratching sound, a flash of light, and a match
burned brightly beneath the wall. Then another was struck, throwing up
David's figure against the pear-tree, as, shielding the burning splint
with his hands, he held it quickly up and down.
"What are you doing?" said Uncle Richard, as Tom gave a stamp caused by
the pain he felt.
"Looking for my pears, sir, as I was when young Master Tom come and hit
me. There arn't a single one left."
"What!" cried Tom, forgetting the stinging of the cuts on his leg. "Oh,
David, don't say they're all gone!"
"What shall I say then, sir?" grumbled David; and he then drew in his
breath with a hissing sound, and began to rub too.
"Do you mean to say the pears have been stolen while you two were
keeping watch?"
"I dunno, sir," grumbled David. "They're not here now; and I'll take
half a davy as they was here at arpus eight."
"Then be off home to bed. Pretty watchmen, upon my word," cried Uncle
Richard, as he turned off to go up to the house; "it's my belief that
you have both been asleep."
"And I'm afraid that there's about as near the truth as any one can get,
Master Tom," whispered David. "I must ha' been mortal tired to-night.
But you needn't have hit a fellow quite so hard."
"That's what I feel, David; but being so stupid: that's worse than the
stick."
"Well, I dunno 'bout that, sir," said David, still rubbing himself;
"them hazels is werry lahstick, and you put a deal o' muskle into that
first cut."
"Well," said Tom mournfully, "I did hit as hard as I could, David."
"You did, Master Tom, and no mistake. Feels to me it must have cut
right in. But I don't like the master to talk like that. It arn't
nice."
"Come, Tom! Fasten the gate!" shouted Uncle Richard.
"Yes, uncle; I'm coming. Now, David, off home."
"Yes, sir, I'm a-goin'; but after all this trouble to lose them pears.
Oh, Master Tom, it's that there as makes me feel most sore!"
But David kept on rubbing himself gently all the same.
"Pretty pair, 'pon my word!" said Uncle Richard, as Tom came blinking
into the light just as the clock was striking ten. "Then you couldn't
keep awake?"
"No, uncle. I suppose I must have been very tired to-night."
"The Vicar's plums last night; my pears to-night. Humph! It's time
that young fruit pirate was caught."