TRACKED DOWN.
"I tell you that there's my dog! He was stolen from me, and I'm
going to 'ave the law of whoever's got 'im."
Tom Smith went blustering back into the public-house, almost
speechless with anger. To have been so near Dick and then to have
missed him, was almost more than he could bear. If he had known he
had missed Huldah too, he would have been even more angry.
"You can't have the law of people for taking in a stray," remarked
one man, quietly. They none of them liked Tom Smith, and most of
them wished he would go on his way and leave them to their quiet
gossip.
"Perhaps he ran away," suggested another, drily.
Tom Smith glowered at him sullenly. "What should he run away for?"
he asked, sharply.
"Well, that's more'n I can say," answered the man, calmly.
"It seems to be his way, by the look of him just now. Dogs do it
sometimes, when they think they'd like a change."
"I know he didn't run away; he was stolen, and I'd give five
shillings to know who'd got him, and where he lives."
He did not mean what he said, and he never intended to part with five
shillings, but he did want to find Dick, and he meant to do it, too.
For once he was taken at his word.
"Hand over your five bob. I can tell you where the dog lives."
The voice came from over by the window, and all eyes were turned in
that direction. A young man, a stranger to all there, was standing
leaning eagerly towards Tom Smith, his hand held out. He had been
sitting silent until this moment, but listening attentively to all
that was being said.
Tom Smith turned towards him, looking very foolish; and, as usual,
when he felt small he began to bluster. "Likely tale I'm going to
hand over five shillings now! How do I know you knows anything about
the dog; what one I means, or where he lives, or anything at all
about him? Besides, I don't give the five bob unless I actually gets
hold of the dog."
"I tell you I do know him; he's a yaller dog, a long-legged thing
with a short tail, and he goes about with a girl, and he's called
Dick. I shouldn't have said I know'd him if I didn't."
"A girl!" Tom Smith's cruel eyes lightened with eagerness.
"Have you seen a girl with him? a kid about twelve-year old?
When? Now? Are you sure? Why, 'twas she that stole him!"
"What should a child of that age want to steal a dog for?" asked one
of the other men.
"Better ask her, if you want to know!" retorted the other, rudely.
"I'll give 'ee another shilling if you can help me lay my hands on
the both of them."
"Right you are," agreed Bob, promptly, and without a single qualm of
conscience. "We'd better start; 'tis about four miles from here they
live, and it'll be dark soon."
"Ugh!" Tom Smith looked vexed; he was a lazy man, and he did not
relish the prospect of a four miles' tramp. "I've got to wait for my
old woman to come back," he muttered.
Emma Smith was going round the town with a big basket of tins and
brushes and things, trying to sell some, while he hung about the
public-house, enjoying himself doing nothing. Her round was a long
one, and few people seemed tempted to buy of such a slovenly,
disagreeable-looking woman, one who grew rude too, if people did not
want any of her goods.
So it was that Huldah had got safely home without being overtaken,
and once within that cosy kitchen felt herself safe from all danger.
She little dreamed that at that moment the three persons she feared
most in the world were starting out from Belmouth in search of her.
Poor Huldah!
It was six o'clock and quite dark by the time the trio, and Charlie
and the van, reached Wood End; and many a time before they got there
Bob Thorp would have thrown up the job, if he had not wanted the
money so badly. For the whole of the four miles Tom Smith grumbled,
bullied his wife, beat Charlie, and snapped and snarled at everyone
and everything.
"I don't wonder at anybody's running away from you," remarked Bob at
last, losing all patience. "If I was your wife I'd do the same."
Whereupon Tom snarled again with rage, "She'd better let me catch her
trying it on, that's all," he said, threateningly, and glared at his
wife, as though she had threatened to do so.
A little way beyond the village they drew up, and without troubling
to ask anyone's leave Tom drove the van into a field,--where they had
no possible right to be, and poor tired Charlie and his tired
mistress were left to themselves for, at any rate, a few minutes'
peace.
The two men walked on again in silence until they reached the top of
Woodend Lane, There Bob Thorp drew up, and showed a decided
disinclination to go any further.
"'Tis down there they live, the first cottage you come to; you can't
mistake it. There's only an old woman, I b'lieve, besides the girl
and the dog. I'd better keep away, 'cause they knows me, leastways
the girl does, and--and the dog. If you'll hand over that six bob
now, I'll be getting home. I've got a good step to go yet."
Tom Smith agreed almost pleasantly. "Right you are," he said, diving
his hand into an inside pocket, "and, thank 'ee, I'll manage the
rest, and I'd better manage it alone. I don't want to draw my
friends into any trouble over it,--leastways not those that have done
me a good turn."
He fumbled for some time over the counting out of the money, but when
at last he had put it into Bob's hand, the latter turned abruptly
away, and with only a brief 'good-night' plunged hurriedly down the
dark lane.
"Good-night," said Bob, "and thank 'ee. Three florins isn't it?"
But Tom Smith was out of sight, and Bob was glad to hurry away too,
as fast as his legs could take him. He did not feel altogether
pleased, though he did try to cheer himself by chinking his money in
his pocket, and planning how he would spend it. All the way he went
he seemed to see again Huldah's pained, sorrowful face, as she knelt
in the road beside her dog, and tried to shelter him with her own
body. How she must love the ugly yellow creature, and how he loved
her! and how they would feel it, if they were parted. What a life
they'd lead, if they had to go back to the van and that ill-tempered,
grumbling pair!
"I couldn't wish anybody any worse harm than to have to live with
that fellow," he muttered to himself. "'Tis a poor look-out for 'em,
poor toads!"
The thought of Huldah, and the desire not to be mixed up in the
affair, sent him home and to bed, to be out of the way. So he went
to sleep, and tried to forget what he had done, and his three florins
remained untouched in his pocket until morning.
In the meantime Tom Smith had made his way stealthily down the lane
until he reached the little cottage. At the gate he stopped, and
peering about him, listened for a time, while he tried to plan what
his first move should be. Should he be civil and friendly, or should
he just go in and frighten them all? As he stood there debating he
looked like some mean beast of prey, waiting to spring on his victim.
A cheerful light shone out of one of the little windows, and in the
stillness of the night the sound of voices reached him. One he
recognised at once as Huldah's. A savoury smell of cooking was
wafted out to him, and roused him to greater anger.
"That little hussy is a-selling of her baskets, I'll be bound, and
she and the old woman live on the fat of the land with the money that
they bring. My baskets, I calls 'em. It's sheer thieving! A fine
old yarn she'll have told, too, and a nice character she'll have
give'd me, ugh, the little--"
A ripple of laughter sounded through the silence. To him it seemed
as though Huldah were mocking him. Hesitating no longer, he strode
up the path and knocked heavily on the door. Instantly the voices
and the laughter ceased. There was a spring at the door and a growl.
Dick had scented the enemy! Then after a moment's pause a voice
asked timidly, "Who is there?"
Tom Smith heard the alarm in the voice, and rejoiced. It gave him
the greatest pleasure always to know that he inspired fear in anyone.
"Open the door. It's me, Tom Smith, and I've come after that dog of
mine that you've stole!"
No answer came, nor was the door opened.
"Open the door, I say, or I'll fetch the police for you! pack of
thieves that you are!"
The threat of the police would have made Huldah smile, if she had not
been in such a state of terror for herself, and even more so for
Dick. She knew that her "uncle" would not go within a mile of a
policeman if he could help it. Indeed, she longed and prayed for a
policeman to come along then, that she might appeal to him for
protection.
Unfortunately for them, though, not even a bolt stood between them
and their enemy, and before Huldah could step forward to shoot it, or
turn the key, the latch was raised, and Tom Smith was in the kitchen.
With one well-aimed kick he sent Dick into the furthest corner, and
with equally sure aim he seized Huldah by the wrist. "Now, you come
along of me, and no nonsense, do you hear? A fine dance you've led
me and your poor aunt! You deserves a good hiding, both of 'ee, and
I ain't sure but what you'll get it yet."
"Let her alone," gasped Mrs. Perry, "let her go--she isn't yours.
You've no--right--to her." Her face was grey white, her heart seemed
to have stopped beating, and she could hardly speak.
Tom Smith took no notice of her whatever, he was not going to waste
time in arguing--bullying was more in his line. "Now then, come
along. If you makes any noise, I'll turn the p'lice on the old lady
there, for harbouring thieves and receiving stolen property.
Stop it now!" as Huldah wrenched herself away. "P'raps that'll teach
you," and he caught her a heavy blow on the ear.
Mrs. Perry screamed. "Don't hurt her--oh, don't do them any harm!"
she pleaded. "Promise not--to beat them." It seemed to her
impossible to resist him, they were helpless there, those two alone.
Huldah and Dick must go.
Huldah's heart sank with overwhelming sorrow. Was she really to be
given up? was she to leave her new home, her new happiness, her work,
Mrs. Perry, Miss Rose,--all to go back to the old torture? Oh no, it
could not be. She could never bear it! Mrs. Perry spoke as if she
would have to; but what would she herself do there alone? She would
be almost frightened to death.
Poor Huldah grew frantic. "I am not going. I can't go, and Miss
Rose said you can't make me. I am not yours. Oh, Miss Rose, Miss
Rose do come and save us!"
With a little whimper of pain Dick crawled out of his corner and came
towards her. He seemed to realise that his little mistress was in
danger, and he meant to stand by her.
"Shut up your noise!" shouted her "uncle," and dealt her another
sharp blow on the side of the head.
Mrs. Perry screamed, and fell fainting into the chair, and with the
same Tom Smith picked up Huldah in his arms and made for the door.
The sound of footsteps and bitter cries died away in the lane, and a
deep oppressive silence followed. The kettle sang and boiled and
bubbled over, the supper burnt in the pan, the fire died down, and
still that senseless form lay huddled up in her chair, her white face
turned upwards to the ceiling, as though beseeching help.
Minutes passed before any sign of life came back to her, and with a
shuddering sigh she opened her eyes again. At first she was dazed,
and her mind a blank, then the open door, the empty room, the
stillness, brought all back to her in a sudden overwhelming rush of
sorrow.
For a few moments she sat, weak, white, and trembling, trying to
think; then rising stumblingly to her feet she picked up her shawl,
and wrapping it over her head and shoulders, she groped her way out
of the house, down the garden, and out into the darkness of the
night.
Stumbling, tottering, having to pause every few minutes, to rest her
shaking limbs and gasp for breath, she made her way up the lane.
She must find Miss Rose. Miss Rose must know, Miss Rose would help
them! Oh it _must_ come right! She could not lose her child and
Dick. She could not live without them now!
Tears welled up, and poured down her ashy face, as she thought of
those two, and what they might be enduring now.
"Dear Father, protect them!" she prayed. "Dear Jesus, take care of
them!" and all the way she went her pleadings beat at Heaven's gate
for the two poor waifs she so loved. "Dear Jesus, protect them, and
bring them back to me. I love them so, and they are all I have."
Her heart laboured so heavily she could scarcely breathe, her head
throbbed distractingly, her limbs shook so much under her that she
could scarcely drag herself along. Every now and then she fancied
she heard a scream or Huldah's sobs; then again she thought she heard
Dick's bark, and each time she stopped and listened, and gazed into
the darkness, but presently the loneliness and darkness so oppressed
her that she could not bring herself to stop again. All she could do
was to stumble onward until the vicarage was reached, and arrived
there she sank down on the doorstep exhausted. The fright and the
walk, so long for her, had nearly killed her.
Dinah came quickly to the door, in response to the frightened frantic
knock, and as she opened it Martha Perry fell in at her feet, faint
and helpless.
"My--Huldah"--she panted, "he's found her; he's taken her--away--and
Dick too! Help me--to--" then, as they raised her and carried her
into the kitchen, she lost consciousness entirely.
When she opened her eyes again Miss Rose was standing beside her.
"Huldah! where's my Huldah?" she cried, her poor eyes filling with
tears. "What--can we do?"
Miss Rose's face was very white, but her eyes were brave and smiling.
"It's all right, Martha, dear. She will be back with you to-morrow,
I hope. We have sent to the police; they are to take the matter up,
and see it through, and we have telegraphed to Belmouth, and
Woodleigh, and Crinnock, to tell the police there to look out for the
man, and stop him."
Mrs. Perry moaned with disappointment, she could not help it, when
she thought of poor Huldah, every moment going further and further
from them all. Longing, hoping, expecting every moment that someone
would overtake them and save her, straining her ears to hear help
coming,--and then, at last, in utter hopeless despair realising that
she was left to herself, helpless, broken-hearted! She would not
know that it was only for one night, and that help was coming in the
morning.
Martha tried to smile back at Miss Rose, and to seem pleased, but her
misery was too great. Then an idea came to her, which brought her
swiftly to her feet, with new hope in her heart. Perhaps, oh,
perhaps, Huldah and Dick might manage again to escape! If they did,
they would go to her, surely! Of course she should be at home to
receive them! She told Miss Rose, and though Miss Rose scarcely
believed it possible, she thought it kinder to humour her,--besides
which there was just the chance,--a chance which could not be missed.
So the two went back to the cottage, where the lamplight still shone
out cheerfully through the open door. For a moment hope leaped in
their hearts, then a glance round the little kitchen assured them
that it was deserted still, and hope died down again.
"Never mind; morning will soon be here," said Miss Rose, hopefully,
"and 'joy cometh with the morning.' Now I am going to make up a good
fire, and I will read to you, and you must try, Martha, dear, to
listen, and not to think of anything else."
She made Martha comfortable in the old armchair, with her feet upon a
stool, and a shawl about her knees, then she took down the well-worn
Bible, and began to read. Her sweet voice rose and fell evenly,
soothingly; for more than an hour she read on, unwearied, never
faltering, selecting all the most helpful and comforting passages she
could find; and by-and-by Martha Perry's face grew less drawn and
anxious, her sad eyes grew tired, then the lids closed in a blessed,
peaceful slumber, and Miss Rose's voice ceased, and silence fell on
the little cottage.
The night sped on, the cold grew greater, the darkness deeper.
Miss Rose sat quietly at the table, the open Bible before her,
keeping watch over the sleeping woman and the fire, her ear always
alert for a sound outside. Her hearing grew so strained that over
and over again she thought she heard footsteps coming, Huldah's
quick, brisk step and Dick's pat-pat patter; again and again she
tip-toed to the door, and opening it wide peered out into the
darkness. But no real sound broke the silence, save the hoot of an
owl, and by-and-by the chirping of the waking birds.
Then at last day dawned, and streaks of light appeared in the sky,
turning presently to a glorious fiery radiance, as the sun rose,
flooding the sky and all the world with brightness and with hope.
Martha Perry stirred stiffly in her chair, and opened her eyes.
"Oh, Miss Rose, I've been asleep, and left you keeping watch all by
yourself! Oh, I am ashamed!"
"Not by myself, Martha. I had this," laying her hand on the open
Bible, "and I felt God nearer me than ever in my life before, I
think. He is going to help us, I know. I feel that He has given me
His word this night!"
"She has not come?" sighed Martha, glancing round the kitchen, as
though expecting to see Huldah hiding somewhere. "Oh, what a night
of misery she must have endured!"
"She has not come yet, but she is coming, and brownie is very brave,
Martha, and patient and hopeful. She has the blessed gift of making
the best of what can't be helped, and she has a wonderful faith.
Look, Martha, look at the sky, does it not already sing to us
'joy cometh with the morning'?"
Martha Perry walked to the door and looked out, and even her timid,
doubting heart could not but feel calmed and comforted.
"'God's in His heaven: All's right with the world,'" quoted Miss
Rose, softly, as they stood there together. And already help was on
its way to Huldah.