UNDER ARREST
Tuesday morning had come and gone. Philip Price, the tutor, sat in the
dining-room of the Bunk with but one pupil facing him at the table.
Geoff, faithful to his promise, had apologised in a manly,
straightforward fashion for his unruly behaviour on the day of the
'Great Rebellion,' as the Carnegys had secretly christened their
outbreak. No sooner had the boy so done than he was freely forgiven.
But Alick flatly refused to sue for pardon, when confronted with his
offended tutor, spite of Theo's tearful entreaties. Stubbornly the
wrong-headed, wrong-hearted boy held out.
'Very good!' dryly said Mr. Price, after waiting in vain. 'Then, until
you see fit to do so, I must dispense with your attendance here, Alick,
otherwise our positions as master and pupil would be reversed.
Good-morning to you!' Philip had risen, and was holding the door open.
A great struggle had been going on in the young man's mind. It would
be easier, he knew, far easier, for him to gloss over Alick's obstinate
refusal to repent, and just to let things go on in the old way. The
temptation to do so was great, particularly to one whose days were
shadowed by much physical suffering, which made it the harder for him
to rise up and energetically quell such a rebellious rising as he had
had lately to cope with. But Philip owned a lion's heart as well as
clear, well-defined notions of right and wrong. Also he had learned
not to lean on his own strength. There was, he knew by experience, a
higher help always ready for those who seek it, and Philip had long
made it a habit to do that in all things, small or great. He was,
therefore, enabled to deal with the young rebel in a dignified and
temperate yet firm manner.
Muttering savagely Alick withdrew with slouching gait. He knew well
that he was no match in regard to words with his tutor, who had
preserved _his_ temper admirably. Master Alick consequently felt it to
be the best policy to hold his tongue.
'Has you got a holiday, Alick? Or has you got the toothache?' asked
Queenie innocently, surprised when Alick sauntered into her playroom,
an hour after, feeling rather like a fish out of water without his
inseparable companion Geoff, and without his usual employment. Ned
Dempster was also out of the way, he being absent with the
fishing-boats; for the bay was alive with the shoals of mackerel, over
which intense excitement simmered throughout Northbourne.
'Yes, I _has_ got a holiday, miss!' was Alick's grim rejoinder. 'A
pretty long one too, I expect.' Then he added in a curt, sharp tone,
as though to stop further questions, 'Now, look here, Queenie! Have
you got any of your family that wants mending, eh? Any sick and
wounded? Any broken legs or heads lying about? Because if you have, I
can undertake to put them right this morning. I've got nothing else on
hand.'
'Oh, can you, will you?' delightedly said Queenie. Then, suddenly
recollecting herself, she quickly added, 'But, Alick--oh, I couldn't
get out all my sick dollies this minute, 'cos, you see, it is nearly
'leven o'clock, and Theo will be waiting for me in the tea-house, to
begin my lessons.'
'Lessons! Never you mind rubbishy old lesson-books, Queenie! I don't
mean to, never again!'
'Has you learnt up everything then, Alick?' asked the child, gazing
respectfully at her brother, with all the wondering admiration one
often sees in little girls for big brothers.
'What has that got to do with it?' roughly answered the boy. He was in
that volcanic condition of mind that every word spoken was as a match,
and set up a blaze of ill-temper. 'Give me over that one-legged doll,
and I'll "fix" her up, as the Yankees say. Hand her ladyship over.'
Alick Carnegy had one tender spot in his heart. Most of us have. And
that in Alick was occupied by Queenie. He was passionately fond of the
innocent-faced, round-eyed little sister, and he was always ready to
mend her sick and damaged properties.
'That's poor Miss Muffet. She felled out of my arms on the beach, and
Splutters and Shutters worried her, Alick, before I could pull her
away. Ah, it was dreadful!' chattered Queenie.
'You shouldn't pull things away from dogs. Never, never do such a
thing. Do you understand, Queenie? They might snap, you know, and
then where would you be?'
Down on the floor Alick sat himself, and fell to work to repair as best
he could the interesting cripple. But Queenie, eager enough though she
was to watch the surgical operation, had a conscience hidden away in
her small person, as her restlessness showed.
'I mustn't stay, Alick. I mus' go! Theo will be waiting, for the hall
clock has struck. I counted 'leven strokes just now!'
Away to her lessons bustled the little maid, and Alick, unhappy, sullen
and forlorn, was left to himself in the play-room. The boy was
distinctly most miserable. Indeed, he could not be otherwise; it is
unnatural for the young to be in a state of rebellion against those set
in authority over them. They suffer hotly for it, with the measureless
capacity for suffering belonging to the young.
In spite of his wretchedness, Alick was, however, fully determined to
go bird-hunting on the morrow in Brattlesby Woods with Jerry Blunt.
Equally determined was the boy also that he would never beg his tutor's
pardon--if he could possibly help it, that was. Alick knew that if his
continued insubordination came to his father's ears the certain result
would be a thrashing, similar to one of which he still had a most vivid
recollection. It occurred on the only occasion that the captain had
been roused to administer punishment to both Geoff and Alick. That was
when the brothers had strangled several of Widow Dempster's hens by
lassoing them, on the pretext that the unfortunate fowls were
prairie-horses, the boys being prairie-hunters. This was a heinous
misdemeanour in the upright old sailor's eyes. Alick winced still at
the remembrance of the captain's wrath, and also of the captain's whip,
which he by no means spared on his boys' backs.
'I certainly hope that father won't get to know about this row!' he
muttered uneasily, as he finished screwing on Miss Muffet's leg, and
set her up as proud as the best. Then looking round for more surgical
needs to operate upon, and finding a hapless horse minus a tail, Alick
ingeniously supplied the unbecoming deficiency with bristles out of the
hearth-brush. He was a remarkably handy boy; his fingers were skilful,
and he possessed a certain amount of invention. As he prowled about
the shelves, setting a good many of Queenie's infirm toys on their
feet, and making all things taut, the morning wore on apace. He was
glad enough of any occupation to pass the time, which seemed strangely
lagging, as he glanced impatiently at his silver watch.
'I suppose Price and old Geoff are as thick as thieves, palavering away
over that awful Latin,' he soliloquised between the tunes he was
whistling. 'Price will be buttering up Geoff at my expense, no doubt.
Well, I don't care; why should I? I've made up my mind not to give in,
and nobody--not Price, at least--shall make me. Hilloa!' Lifting up
his eyes to the light, to see if he had glued on the wooden canary's
head quite straight on its neck, Alick caught sight, through the
window, of a couple of fishing-smacks making steadily for the bay.
'That one to the left is Fletcher's boat, or I'm blind, and Ned's on
board, I know. I'd better just run down to the beach, and have a
private word in his ears, as soon as he lands, about to-morrow. What a
day we shall have in Brattlesby Woods! Oh my, shan't we just!'
In a short time Alick, his morning's misery all forgotten, was down on
the shore, vigourously helping to haul in the heavy nets, and sharing
in the tumultuous excitement never failing to greet any and every boat
that put in to Northbourne beach.
'Can you come along with me, Ned?' he took the opportunity of
whispering in Ned's ear. 'I've got something to tell you about
_to-morrow_. You know what I mean.'
Yes, Ned could give Muster Alick five minutes before he sped home to
Goody's for a warm meal, and likewise a bit of sleep; for the boy was
stiff, as well as starving, after his long, chill night on the water.
'I only wanted to say,' Alick hastily announced, 'that I'm game to go
with Jerry Blunt to-morrow morning, if you will let me know the hour
you mean to set off.'
'We thought of going pretty early,' said Ned slowly, after a pause of
hesitation. 'We wants to make a good long day of it. But--but, Muster
Alick, have ye told them up at the Bunk that ye're set on going with
us? I thought as ye said the tootor wouldn't 'low ye, and that Miss
Theedory backed him up. Didn't ye?' Ned eyed his companion with a
certain amount of stern suspicion as he put the questions.
One of Theo's class-boys himself, he had a genuine reverence for his
gentle teacher. There was nothing, the poor fisher-lad was wont to
tell himself, that he would not have dared or done for the sweet young
lady's sake. Her very gentleness and soft speech seemed to attract and
also subdue his rough nature, by force of contrast possibly.
'What on earth is that to you?' loftily demanded Alick, resenting both
the questions and the mention of his sister's name, as brothers will.
'Why, 'tis this to me!' rejoined Ned grimly, and standing square. 'I
ain't a-goin' to have Miss Theedory lookin' at me through an' through,
an' a-sayin', "Ned," she'll say, "why ever did'ee lead away my brother
to do wrong?" I couldn't stand that, muster!'
'What a born idiot you are, to talk in that way!' said Alick grandly.
'It's quite enough for you that I tell you I'm coming to-morrow; that's
all you've got to do with it. Oh, I say, Ned!'--he descended from his
pinnacle of dignity all in a hurry--'it has been such a lark! I told
you what a row we have had with old Price, and that I bowled him over.
But Geoff has actually given in. Theo--I mean my sister--talked him
into an apology--begging pardon, you know. But I stuck out, and held
my own. So old Price bowed me off the premises. You should have
really seen him do it!' ended Alick, with a laugh that had no merriment
whatever in it. Ned nodded. He readily comprehended that 'Muster
Alick' had held his own.
'And did he, did Muster Geoff reely ask parding?' he inquired
wonderingly, presently.
'Yes, he did!' Alick spoke shortly, for he resented strongly his
brother's disaffection from a bad cause. 'But what's more to the
purpose, _I_ didn't knock under. So I'm coming with you; for old Price
won't, he says firmly, give me another lesson until I apologise too.
You may guess, old chap, that I'll have a fine long holiday at that
rate, if--if the governor don't get to hear about it, of course!' ended
Alick rather lamely.
'Oh!' Ned gasped understandingly. He could readily enough picture the
result of the captain's taking up the matter. Fireworks would be
nothing to the general flare-up, in that case, the fisher-lad privately
told himself.
Alick next proceeded to plan out the morrow's campaign, and by the time
the Dempsters' cottage was reached, it was agreed that Alick should
make his escape as early as possible from the Bunk, in order that he
might start with Jerry Blunt and Ned before anybody was astir to
prevent him. Then, with mutual promises of secrecy, the two parted.