"Better? Yes, of course. Boys always get better," he said. "Look
here. Behaved very well yesterday. Go on. I've said a word to
Brownsmith about you; but, look here: don't you tease my lads. Boys
will be boys, I know; but they are not in your station of life, and you
must not try to make companions of them."
I made no answer: I could not, I was so taken aback by his words; and by
the time I had thought of saying that I had never teased either
Courtenay or Philip, and that I had always tried to avoid them, he was a
hundred yards away.
"They must have been telling lies about me," I said angrily; and I
walked on to where Ike was digging, to talk to him about it and ask his
advice as to whether I should go and tell Sir Francis everything.
"No," he said, stopping to scrape his spade when I had done. "I
shouldn't. It's kicks, that's what it is, and we all gets kicked more
or less through life, my boy; but what of it? He wouldn't think no
better of you for going and telling tales. Let him find it out. Sure
to, some day. Feel badly?"
"Yes," I said, rather faintly.
"Ah! sure to," said Ike, driving his spade into the ground. "But you
don't want no doctor. You swallowed a lot of bad air; now you swallow a
lot of good, and it'll be like lime on a bit o' newly dug ground. Load
or two would do this good. There's the ganger hollering after you."
"Yes!" I cried, and I went towards where Mr Brownsmith was standing.
"Look here, Grant," he said, looking very red in the face. "Sir Francis
has given me this to buy you a watch by and by. He says you're too
young to have one now, but I'm to buy it and keep it for you a year or
two. Five pounds."
"I'm much obliged to him," I said rather dolefully; but I did not feel
at all pleased, and Mr Solomon looked disappointed, and I'm afraid he
thought I was rather a queer boy.
At the end of the week I heard that Courtenay was better, but that he
was to go with his brother down to the seaside, and to my great delight
they went; and though I thought the lad might have said, "Thank you," to
me for saving his life, I was so pleased to find he was going, that this
troubled me very little, for it was as if a holiday time had just begun.
The effects of my adventure soon passed away, and the days glided on
most enjoyably. There was plenty to do in the glass-houses, but it was
always such interesting work that I was never tired of it; and it was
delightful to me to see the fruit ripening and the progress of the
glorious flowers that we grew. Mr Solomon was always ready to tell or
show me anything, and I suppose he was satisfied with me, for he used to
nod now and then--he never praised; and Mrs Solomon sometimes smiled at
me, but not very often.
The autumn was well advanced when one day Mr Solomon told me that he
had arranged for Ike, as he was a good carter, to go with the strongest
horse and cart to a place he named in Surrey, to fetch a good load of a
particular kind of silver sand for potting.
"It's a long journey, Grant," he said; "and you'll have to start very
early, but I thought you would like to go. Be a change."
"I should like it," I said. "Does Ike know I'm going?"
"No; you can tell him."
I went down to Ike, who was as usual digging, for he was the best
handler of a spade in the garden, and he liked the work.
"Hullo!" he said surlily.
"I'm to go with you for the sand, Ike," I cried.
"Think o' that now!" he replied with a grim smile. "Why, I was just
a-thinking it would be like going off with the old cart and Bonyparty to
market, and how you and me went."
"With Shock on the top of the load," I said laughing.
"Ay, to be sure. Well, he's a-going this time to help mind the horse.
And so you are going too?"
"Yes," I said mischievously, "to look after you, and see that you do
your work."
"Gahn!" he growled, beginning to dig again. Look here, though; if you
ain't ready I shall go without you.
"All right, Ike!" I said. "What time do you start?"
"Twelve o'clock sees me outside the yard gates, my lad. Five arter sees
me down the road."
"Do you know the way, Ike?" I said.
"Do I know the way!" cried Ike, taking his spade close up to the blade
and scraping and looking at it as if addressing it. "Why, I was born
close to that san'-pit, and put Old Brownsmith's brother up to getting
some. I can show him where to get some real peat too, if he behaves
hisself."
The trip to the sand-pit kept all other thoughts out of my head; and
though I was packed off to bed at seven for a few hours' rest, Mr
Solomon having promised to sit up so as to call me, I don't think I
slept much, and at last, when I was off soundly, I jumped up in a
fright, to find that the moon was shining full in at my window, and I
felt sure that I had overslept myself and that Ike had gone.
I had not undressed, only taken off jacket, waistcoat, and boots; and I
softly opened my door and stole down in my stocking feet to look at the
eight-day clock, when, as I reached the mat, a peculiar odour smote on
my senses, and then there was the sound of a fire being tapped gently,
and Mrs Solomon said:
"I think I'll go and wake him now."
"I am awake," I said, opening the door softly, to find the table spread
for breakfast, and Mr Solomon in spectacles making up his gardening
accounts.
"Just coming to call you, my lad," he said. "Half-past eleven, and Ike
has just gone to the stable."
"And Shock?" I said.
"The young dog! he has been sleeping up in the hay-loft again. Ike says
he can't keep him at their lodgings."
I ran back upstairs and finished dressing, to come down and find that
Mr Solomon had taken out two basins of hot coffee and some bread and
butter for Ike and Shock, while mine was waiting.
"Put that in your pocket, Grant," said Mrs Solomon, giving me a brown
paper parcel.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Sandwiches. You'll be glad of them by and by."
I took the packet unwillingly, for I was not hungry then, and I thought
it a nuisance; for I had no idea then that I was providing myself with
that which would save my life in the peril that was to come.
It was ten minutes to twelve when I went down to the yard, where all the
dogs were standing on their hind legs and straining at their chains,
eager to be patted and talked to, and strongly excited at the sight of
the horse being put to in the strong, springless cart.
They howled and yelped and barked, begging in their way for a run, but
they were nearly all doomed to disappointment.
"Just going to start without you," cried Ike in his surly way.
"No, you were not," I said. "It isn't time."
"'Tis by my watch," he growled as he fastened the chains of the cart
harness. "I don't pay no heed to no other time."
"Bring as good a load as you can, and the coarser the better; but don't
hurry the horse," said Mr Solomon. "Give him his own time, and he'll
draw a very heavy load."
"All right, master. I'll take care."
"Got your shovel and pick?"
"Shovel. Shan't want no pick; the sand comes down as soon as you touch
it. Now, then, Mars Grant, ready? May as well take a couple more
sacks."
The sacks were put in, and we were ready for a start, when a yelp took
my attention, and I said:
"I suppose you wouldn't like us to take Juno, sir?"
"Oh, I don't know. Do the dog good. Do you want to take her?"
"Yes," I said eagerly.
The handsome, black, curly-haired retriever barked furiously, for she
saw that we were looking at her.
Mr Solomon nodded, and I ran and unbuckled the dog's collar, having my
face licked by way of thanks.
As I threw the chain over the kennel Juno bounded up at the horse and
then rushed at the gate, barking furiously. Then she rushed back, and
charged at all the other dogs, barking as if saying, "Come along, lads,
we're off."
But the big gates were set open, Juno rushed out, there was a final word
or two from Mr Solomon, who said:
"I sha'n't be surprised if you are very late."
Then the dogs set up a dismal howl as the cart rumbled out over the
stones, and in chorus they seemed to say:
"Oh what a shame!"
Then I looked back, and saw Mr Solomon in the moonlight shutting the
gates, and I was trudging along beside Ike, close to the horse; and it
almost seemed, in the stillness of the night, with the cart rattling by
us and the horse's hoofs sounding loud and clear on the hard road, that
we were bound for Covent Garden.
"But where's Shock?" I said all at once.
Ike gave his head a jerk towards the cart, and I ran and looked over the
tailboard, to see a heap of sacks and some straw, but no Shock. In one
corner, though, there was a strongly made boot, and I took hold of that,
to find it belonged to something alive, for its owner began to kick
fiercely.
"Better jump in, my lad," said Ike, and we did so, when, the seat having
been set right so as to balance the weight, Ike gave a chirrup, and we
went off at a good round trot.
"Let him be," said Ike as I drew his attention to the heap of straw and
sacks. "He goes best when you let him have his own way. He'll go to
sleep for a bit, and I dessay we can manage to get on without him. His
conversation isn't so very entertaining."
I laughed, and for about an hour we trotted on, the whole affair being
so novel and strange that I felt quite excited, and wondered that Ike
neither looked to right nor left, but seemed to be studying the horse's
ears.
The fact was his thoughts were running in one particular direction, and
I soon found which, for he began in his morose way:
"Just as if I should overload or ill-use a hoss! Look at old
Bonyparty."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Why, him talking like that afore we started. I know what I'm about.
You'd better lie down and cover yourself over with some sacks. Get a
good sleep; I'll call you when we get there."
"What, and miss seeing the country?" I cried.
"Seeing the country! Lor', what a baby you are, Mars Grant! What is
there to see in that?"
I thought a great deal; and a glorious ride it seemed through the
moonlight and under the dark shadows of the trees in the country lanes.
Then there was the dawn, and the sun rising, and the bright morning once
more, with the dew glittering on the grassy strands and hedgerows; and I
was so happy and excited that Ike said, with one of his grim smiles:
"Why, anybody'd think you was going out for a holiday 'stead of helping
to load a sand cart."
"It's such a change, Ike," I said.
"Change! What sort o' change? Going to use a shovel 'stead of a spade;
and sand's easy to dig but awful heavy. Here, get up; are you going to
lie snoring there all day?"
He leaned over me and poked with the butt of the whip handle at Shock,
but that gentleman only kicked and growled, and so he was left in peace.
Just before eight o'clock, after a glorious morning ride through a hilly
country, we came to a pretty-looking village with the houses covered in
with slabs of stone instead of slates or tiles or thatch, and the soft
grey, and the yellow and green lichen and moss seemed to make the place
quaint and wonderfully attractive to me; but I was not allowed to sit
thinking about the beauty of the place, for Ike began to tell me of the
plan of our campaign.
"Yon's the sand-hill," he said, pointing with his whip as he drew up at
a little inn. "We'll order some braxfass here; then while they're
briling the bacon we'll take the cart up to the pit and leave it, and
bring the horse back to stop in the stable till we want him again."
The order was given, and then we had a slow climb up a long hill to
where, right at the top, the road had been cut straight through, leaving
an embankment, forty or fifty feet high, on each side, while, for
generations past, the sand had been dug away till the embankments were
some distance back from the road.
"Just like being on the sea-shore," said Ike. "I see the ocean once.
Linkyshire cost. All sand like this. Rum place, ain't it?"
"I think it's beautiful," I said as the cart was drawn over the yielding
sand, the horse's hoofs and the wheels sinking in deep, while quite a
cliff, crowned with dark fir-trees, towered above our heads. The face
of the sandy cliff was scored with furrows where the water had run down,
and here it was reddish, there yellow or cream colour, and then
dazzlingly white, while just below the top it was honey-combed with
holes.
"San'-martins' nesties," said Ike, pointing with his whip. "There's
clouds of 'em sometimes. There they go."
He pointed to the pretty white-breasted birds as they darted here and
there, and on we still went, jolting up and down in the sandy bottom,
where there was only a faint track, till we were opposite to a series of
cavern-like holes and the sand cliff towered up with pine-trees here and
there half-way down where the sand had given way or been undermined, and
they had glided down a quarter--half--three parts of the distance. In
short, it was a lovely, romantic spot, with a view over the pleasant
land of Surrey on our right, and on our left a cliff of beautiful
salmon-coloured sand, side by side with one that was quite white.
"You won't get better sand than that nowheres," said Ike, standing up
and getting out of the cart, an example I followed. "Here we'll pitch,
Mars Grant, and--"
Quickly and silently, as he gave me a comical look, he unhitched a chain
or two, unbuckled the belly-band, and let the shafts fly up.
The result was that Shock's head went bang against the tail-board, and
then his legs went over it, and he came out with a curious somersault,
and stared about only half awake, and covered with straw and sacks.
He jumped up angrily, and as soon as he saw that we were laughing at
him, turned his back, and kicked the sand at us like a pawing horse; but
Ike gave the whip a flick at him, and told him to put the sacks in the
cart.
"No one won't touch them. Come along, old horse," he cried; and,
leading the way, the horse followed us with the reins tucked in its pad,
and we waded through the sand in which Juno rolled and tried to burrow
till we were out once more in the hard road, where the dog had to be
whistled for, consequent upon her having started a rabbit.
We found her at last, trying to get into a hole that would have been a
tight fit for a terrier, and she came reluctantly away.
The most delicious breakfast I ever tasted was ready at the little inn;
but Ike saw to his horse first, and did not sit down till it was
enjoying its corn, after a good rub down with a wisp of straw. Then the
way in which we made bread and bacon disappear was terrible, for the
journey had given us a famous appetite.
Shock would not join us, preferring the society of the horse in the
stable, but he did not fare badly. I saw to that.
At last after a final look at the horse, who was to rest till evening,
we walked back to the sand-pit, climbing higher and higher into the
sweet fresh air, till we were once more by the cart, when Ike laid one
hand upon the wheel and raised the other.
"Look here, lads," he said; "that horse must have eight hours' rest
'fore tackling her load, and a stop on the way home, so let's load up at
once with the best coarse white--we can do it in half an hour or so--
then you two can go rabbiting or bird-nesting, or what you like, while I
have a pipe and a sleep in the sand till it's time to get something to
eat and fetch the horse and go."
"Where's a shovel?" I cried; and Shock jumped into the cart for
another.
"Steady, lads, steady," said Ike; "plenty of time. Only best coarse
white, you know. Wait till I've propped the sharps and got her so as
she can't tilt uppards. That's your sort. She's all right now. We
don't want no more berryin's, Mars Grant, do we? Now, then, only the
best white, mind. Load away."
He set the example, just where the beautiful white sand seemed to have
trickled, down from the cliff till it formed a softly rounded slope, and
attacking this vigorously we were not long before Ike cried:
"Woa!"
"But it isn't half full," I cried.
"No, my lad. If it was," said Ike, "our horse couldn't pull it. That
stuff's twice as heavy as stones. There, stick in your shovels, and now
be off. Don't go far. You ought with that dog to find us a rabbit for
dinner."
Shock's eyes flashed, and he looked quite pleased, forgetting to turn
his back, and seeming disposed for once to be friendly, as, with Juno at
our heels, we started up the sandy bottom on an expedition that proved
one of the most adventurous of our lives.