And he said--

"You can eat everything. I have such a fealing of thankfulness to be

saved, that I couldn't eat for the moment, empty as I am. Besides there

will be supper provided."

A man shouted above us and I heard the hated voice of Waxy West.

"Be you little devils down there?" he cried out.

"Yes, we are, Mr West," I answered him very loud. "We're doing no harm

at all--merely waiting quietly to be resqued. We only came for

draggon-flies, and the side of the qwarry gave way unfortunately, or we

shouldn't have had to trouble you at such a late hour."

He growled in rather an unkind tone of voice, and we saw there were two

other men with him. Then they began to make arrangements for the resque

and one was told to go and get a rope.

"If ever I catch you in this place again, I'll break both your necks,"

said Waxy West; and though this was rather strong, it comforted Morris

in a way, becorse it showed that West hadn't found his messages offering

a handsome reward. If there had been any question of that, he would

have been polite and kringeing; but he was just as usual.

We found out, after, that Matron had got in a funk and gone to the big

house, where the people belonging to Merivale Grate Wood live; and the

people had sent their keepers in all directions to save us.

These keepers got a rope and made knots in it and lowered it down, and

told us that we must climb up it. And I let Morris go first, which he

did; and then I went up, and the keepers saw us home.

I told Waxy West that I should mention the subject to my parints in

India and that I hoped they might send at least a pound to him, and he

said it wasn't likely, becorse he'd done them the worst turn any man

could. And he said that if I wanted to reward him, I would never go

into Merivale Grate Wood again; and I promised I wouldn't go in again

for a full month. Which he evvidently didn't believe.

There was fritefully good tuck waiting for us at school, and the Matron,

who had been blubbing, said a grate many rather unkind things while we

eat it. But she promised not to tell Dr Dunstan and he does not no even

to this day.

Morris didn't win the holiday competishun becorse, as he expected, both

Slade and Thompson minor brort back draggon-flies. We might eesily have

gone to the qwarry again, after the month I promised Waxy West was over,

but nothing would tempt Morris to go, though I bought ten yards of good

rope for my own use. However, he paid me sixpence for getting him back

his killing-bottle and his butterfly-net and his caterpillar-box, which

were forgot in the excitement of the resque; and that was all to the

good.

*RICHMOND AND THE MAJOR-GENERAL*

*No. X*

*RICHMOND AND THE MAJOR-GENERAL*

The fellows talk such a lot of absolute piffle about what I did, and

tell such a frightful number of regular right down lies about it, that I

have decided to write out the whole thing myself from the beginning,

that the truth shall be known. There is nothing like truth really, and

it is the only thing that lasts, and I am going to tell the truth

fearlessly, because honesty is the best policy, however hard it may be

at the time.

Well, after I gave up preaching to the chaps at Merivale, owing to the

row about Browne and Stopford and all the unpleasantness afterwards, I

felt that my occupation was gone in a sort of way; and it so weighed on

my mind that I was one of the first to get German measles and one of the

last to recover. I was shut up in the hospital and had a great deal of

time on my hands for thought, and the more I thought, the more I felt

that my preaching gift ought not to be wasted like this. I tried

preaching to myself once or twice, to keep my hand in, and I found that

I was clean out of practice and couldn't work up to "thirdly and lastly"

without getting regularly tied in a knot. Then I tried to preach to the

matron, and she said it was morbid and told the doctor (for I heard her

through the door) that I was very low and taking a most unhealthy

interest in religion. After which I had a lot more most uncalled for

and beastly medicine, and was isolated for three more days; because the

doctor said it might be something else threatening. What was

threatening really was my conscience. I was perfectly well and

frightfully eager to be doing good in the world; and as it seemed simply

useless to try to do any more good at Merivale, chiefly owing to that

son of Belial called Stopford, I came to the terrific resolve of going.

I decided to leave quietly. I thought on the last day of being isolated

I would steal out into the world in a spirit of calm courage, and try to

do good, and leave the rest to Providence.

I did nothing rashly, because it is well known that Heaven helps those

who help themselves, and we must not throw all the burden on Providence,

however much inclined we may feel to do so. We are given our talents to

use, not to put under a bushel. I had ten shillings and a telescope,

worth eight-and-six. I had nothing else but my volume of Skeleton

Sermons. It seemed enough.

One is bound to be worldly-wise up to a certain point; and this is right

and proper. If you have a mission, you must use the best means for

carrying it out, and even money may be put to very proper purposes if it

is spent with a high object. Besides, the labourer is worthy of his

hire.

With my money I determined to use artificial means for getting as far

from Merivale as possible. For ten shillings you can go an immense

distance by train, though a half-ticket was no longer possible for me,

as I was over twelve; but a train is far too public and I should have

been discovered. Therefore I decided upon the simple plan of hiring a

bicycle. The time was May and the evenings were long. Therefore I

determined to hire the bicycle during the hour when everybody would be

in chapel for evening prayer. Being isolated I could do this.

The eventful night was fine and warm. I slipped out unperceived, but I

had taken the precaution not to wear my hat with the school colours, as

that would have been instantly observed. So I went to my private box

and took out my round bowler hat, which could not lead to detection. I

then got over the hedge into the main road, because to have walked out

of the gate by the lodge would have much decreased my chances of escape.

All went well. The people at the bicycle shop raised no difficulty, and

for five shillings they let me have a machine for two hours--also

matches to light the lamp. It was put into their minds to trust me, and

I saw from the first that Providence was going to help me. The man even

shortened the steps a little as I am unusually stumpy in the legs.

I gave him five shillings and set off. Pursuit would not begin till my

supper was brought by the matron, and I had a clear hour before that

time. Then I knew what would happen; because two terms before, young

Watkinson, who was homesick, had run away and tried to walk from

Merivale, in Devonshire, to Edinburgh, where his grandmother lives; but

he had been taken by Mannering riding that way on his bicycle, two miles

out of Merivale. So I knew that the masters on bicycles and policemen

on foot would soon be after me, and I intended to avoid the main roads

and spend the night in some harmless and wholesome cowhouse on a bed of

sweet meadow hay. Then in the morning I should rise, get a drink of milk

and a little bread-and-butter from some simple and kind-hearted

housewife, and leave the bicycle with her to be returned by train to the

bicycle shop at Merivale. What would happen after that I left entirely

to Providence.

A telescope and a rather fat book are awkward things on a bicycle, and

they bumped me rather heavily, one on each side, as I started. So after

riding a few miles I dismounted, slung the telescope over my back and

buttoned the Skeleton Sermons to my chest. Though not comfortable, they

did not bump, and I went steadily on my way. At a quarter to nine I

lighted my lamp and well knew that Mannering and Chambers had started,

and that many telegrams, including one to my father, had probably been

sent off by Dr. Dunstan from Merivale. For the first time I considered

what view my father would take of my action, and I was bound to feel

that he might not care much about it. My father, though a good father

to me, has never trusted as much in Providence as I could have wished;

which is curious, seeing that he is not only a clergyman but also a

rural dean. He wants me to go into some lucrative business, but I never

will, for I have no feeling for it. My father thinks that money is

everything, and I know well it is not. He said to me once that you can

always tell a gentleman by his neckties and the cigars he smokes. Which

is childish, because many perfect gentlemen never smoke cigars at all.

I got rather depressed after dark--entirely owing to thinking about my

father. I also got strangely hungry and was beginning to wonder whether

I had better try for some supper anywhere, or just leave nature to

settle that. Then a most serious and unforeseen thing happened and the

hind tyre of the bicycle went off with a loud explosion, like a pistol.

I dismounted instantly. I kept my nerve and quietly considered the

situation. For a moment it looked as if Providence was against me, but

I could not be sure of this yet. I wheeled the bicycle to a gate and

sat on the gate and considered. Then, far down the road I had come, I

saw a light and instantly perceived that another bicycle was approaching

at quite twenty miles an hour. To drag my bicycle through the gate into

the field, to shut the gate, extinguish the lamp, and crouch in the

hedge motionless and silent, was the work of an instant. The bicycle

flew past and the man on it grunted with little grunts. It was, in

fact, the well-known grunt of Mannering--a sound he always makes at

footer and hockey. So I saw that Providence was still with me and felt

very much cheered; because, if the lyre had not burst, I should have

been quietly riding along not thinking of Mannering, and he would have

overtaken me and all would have been over.

My resolutions were soon made. I left the main road, which was

evidently now no place for me, and wheeled the bicycle down a lane near

a farm. I felt that it would be necessary to my health to eat something

before sleeping, but cared little what it was, and decided that I would

just take the fruits of the earth--corn or a few turnips, or anything.

In the morning I should mention it to the farmer's wife and ask her to

change my five-shilling piece. For the change from my ten-shilling

piece, after paying for the bicycle hire, was a five-shilling piece.

I now became conscious of the fact that the bicycle was a hindrance

rather than a help. To leave it behind was, therefore, the work of a

moment. But first I took a leaf out of my pocketbook and wrote on it

these words--

"_Kindly return this bicycle to the shop of Messrs. Jones and Garratt,

bicycle works, Merivale, and all will be well. The hind wheel is

punctured. The finder will probably be rewarded._"

To show, however, that I was not careless for the bicycle, I may say

that I went on till I found a cowshed, so that the machine might be dry

and not suffer from night dew or possible rain. It was not the sort of

cowshed that I meant to sleep in myself, being evidently used purely for

cows, and having no fragrant, clean hay or anything of the kind in it;

but it was good enough for the bicycle; so I left it there and went on

my way.

There are very peculiar and creepy sounds to be heard in the country at

night, and I heard them all. Everything, in fact, is quite different to

what it is by day. Especially the colours of things. There was a watery

sort of moon, and it made all the leaves on the trees look as if they

were cut out of dirty white paper. And it made gate-posts and

tree-stems look as if they were alive. I got a curious sort of feeling

about this time and lit a match and read a couple of Skeleton Sermons.

This put me absolutely all right, and I went to seek some of the fruits

of the earth. But May is evidently a bad time for that purpose. In

fact, there were simply no fruits of the earth to eat anywhere, so I had

to trust to young leaves. Beech leaves are all right in a way, but you

soon have enough. That was all I could get, however, and I washed them

down with a drink from a brook, but unluckily slipped in while filling

my bowler hat with water. Then the thing was to find a comfortable

place with sweet, snug straw; and I crept down to a farmhouse; and,

hearing me creeping down unfortunately upset a dog so much that it

barked steadily for half-an-hour and woke many other dogs for miles

round.

At last I found a poorish sort of shed which had no sweet, fragrant hay

but only a cart with sacks in it. The sacks had been used for guano.

Still they were better than nothing, and I got into the cart and pulled

the sacks over me, having first taken off my socks and hung them on the

edge of the cart to dry. I slept, but not well, and when morning came I

found myself deeply scented with guano and starving for food, but

otherwise all right and still free. So I read a bit, and put on my

socks, and set out boldly down a lane to the farm. But, after all, I

did not go to this particular farm, because, instead of a motherly woman

or some beautiful young girl standing at the door feeding chickens and

pigeons, there were two men in a corner killing a pig, and the pig

simply hated it; and to see this done on an empty stomach is very trying

to the nerves. So I went hastily and boldly on, and at last found a

quiet and humble cottage and a woman in it. I don't think she would

have given me food for nothing; but when I said I would pay her a

shilling for a breakfast, and showed her my five shillings to prove it,

she met my views gladly and gave me three pieces of bread-and-butter, an

egg, that was not laid yesterday, and some tea. Then she changed the

five-shilling piece and gave me back four shillings.

Much refreshed and with nothing to trouble me but a cold in the head,

doubtless owing to getting my feet wet, I went on my way. My idea was

to get to Exeter and then boldly take my stand in the cathedral yard and

try to begin doing good and arresting the careless passer-by, and

leaving the rest to Providence. I did not know whether it might be

possible to get to Exeter by lanes and footpaths over fields. Nothing

happened except that I gave away two shillings in charity to a blind

woman with four children. I also said a few encouraging words to her.

And then, being now in the middle of a very lonely common covered with

yellow gorse and white may, I came suddenly upon a man sitting under a

bush smoking a cigarette. He was evidently not a happy man, being very

ragged and with one laced boot and one elastic one. His hair was long,

partly yellow and partly grey; his face was as brown as leather; and he

had little rings in his ears. His clothes were faded and a good deal

patched. He evidently did not mind what he wore. His eyes were blue

and bright, but rather kind on the whole. There was a paper opened

beside him. It was a bit of newspaper and contained bones and the sort

of food you give to dogs. His nails were long and black, and some of

his fingers perfectly yellow from smoking cigarettes.