GUNPOWDER PLOT.
The news caused a profound sensation, the like of which had probably
never been witnessed at The Birches before--no, not even on that
memorable occasion when the intelligence arrived that Scourer, one of
the past seniors, had ridden his bicycle through the plate-glass window
of Brown's big crockery-shop, and was being brought home on a shutter.
All the boys threw down their books, and started to their feet.
Acton and Vance banished from their minds all thought of the
disagreement which had lately estranged them from their unfortunate
school-fellow, and joined heartily in the general outburst of wrath and
consternation.
The thought that Diggory, their well-beloved, was at that very moment
languishing, a prisoner of war, in the hands of the Philistines was
almost unbearable.
"What will they do with him?"--"Where have they put him?"--"How can we
rescue the fellow?" were questions which everybody was asking, but no
one could answer. It seemed altogether beyond their power to do
anything, and yet there was not a boy who would not have given his
dearest possession, were it a white rat or a stamp collection, if by
parting with it he could have rendered some assistance to his ill-fated
comrade.
"There's only half an hour before tea," said Vance, looking up at the
clock; "if anything can be done, we must do it at once."
The precious moments sped away, but in vain did the assembly rack their
brains for some plan of action which might in any way be likely to serve
the purpose they had in view. The first wild suggestion, that they
should go in a body and carry Horace House by storm, was abandoned as
impracticable; in hopeless inactivity they stood watching the long
hand of the clock creep up from six till twelve.
The first tea-bell had just finished ringing, when there was a sound of
footsteps hurrying along the passage, the door burst open, and in rushed
no other person than Diggory himself!
"Hullo! how did you get away?"--"What have they been doing?"--"How did
you escape?"
"Oh, such a lark!" cried the boy. "They'll wish they'd never caught me!
I'll tell you all about it after tea."
As soon as the meal was over, Diggory was seized, hurried up into the
schoolroom, and there forced to relate his adventures.
"Well," he began, "they collared me, and dragged me through the gates
and along into their playground. Noaks looked at me and said, 'Hullo,
here's luck! This is the young beggar who tied that rope to the
scrapers; I vote we give him a jolly good licking.' I told them that my
father was a lawyer, and if any of them touched me he'd take a summons
out against them for assault. That frightened Noaks, for you can see
he's a regular coward, so he asked the others what they thought had
better be done with me.
"'I know,' said Hogson. 'There's an old cow-shed in the field next to
ours; let's shut him in and keep him there till after tea. He'll get a
jolly row for being late when he gets back, and he won't dare to say
where he's been; because I know it's against their rules to come
anywhere near us, and Locker's Lane is out of bounds. If he does tell,
we'll swear he was in the road chucking stones at the windows.'
"Some one said there was only a staple on the door of the shed, but
Noaks said he'd fetch the padlock off his play-box, and so he did.
"Well, they took me across their playing field, and over the hedge into
the next, and shut me up in this beastly old hovel. 'It's no use your
making a row,' said Hogson, 'because no one'll hear you; and if you
do, summons or no summons we'll come down and give you a licking.'
After that they left me, and went back to the house; and as soon as
they'd gone, I began to try to find some way of escape, but it was so
dark inside the shed I couldn't see anything. Presently I heard a
knocking on the boards. There was a wide crack between them in one
place, and looking through it I could just make out that there was some
boy standing there with what looked like a dirty apron over his
trousers. I said, 'Hullo!' and he said, 'Hullo! what's up? who are you?
and what have they been a-sticking of you in there for?'
"I told him, and asked him who he was, and it turned out his name was
Joe Crump, and he's the boy who cleans the knives at Philips's.
He happened to be knocking about when they took me prisoner, and he
couldn't see who it was in the dark, and thought it might be his younger
brother who comes on errands from the grocer's; the Philistines are
always playing tricks on him.
"I said, 'Look here, Joe Crump, you let me out, there's a good chap.'
But he wouldn't; he was afraid of what young Noaks would do to him.
At last I gave him a shilling through the crack of the boards, and vowed
I wouldn't say who'd done it, and then he undid the door. I fastened
the padlock again, and threw the key into the hedge, for Noaks had left
it in the keyhole; so now he won't be able to get his lock again unless
he either breaks it or the staple, and they're both pretty tough.
After that I got round through two other fields into the lane, and here
I am."
The conclusion of Diggory's story was hailed with shouts of triumph.
To imagine the disappointment of the Philistines when they discovered
that the bird had flown, and the chagrin of young Noaks when he found
that his play-box padlock was fastened to the door of the shed, was
simply delightful; and Acton was so carried away that he once more fell
on Diggory's neck, and pretended to shed tears of joy upon the latter's
broad turn-down collar.
"But that's not all," cried the youngster, shaking himself free from his
leader's embrace. "The best is this. I had a bit of a talk with Joe
Crump before I came away, and he says that young Noaks is going to leave
at the end of this term, and he's been telling the Philistines that
before he goes he means to do something that'll pay us out for his being
sent off the field in that football match. Crump doesn't know what he
means to do, but I made him promise, if he finds out, to come and tell
me, and I'll give him another shilling. Then we shall be prepared."
"I say, Diggy," exclaimed Jack Vance, "you are a _corker!_" and the bell
now commencing to ring for evening preparation, the meeting terminated.
It was an annual custom at The Birches for the boys to subscribe towards
getting a display of fireworks, which were let off in the playground
under the superintendence of Mr. Blake. The head-master himself gave a
donation towards the fund, and allowed the boys to prepare the next
day's work in the afternoon instead of in the evening.
This year, however, when Acton went, as usual, to the library to
formally ask permission that the celebration should take place, he met
with a terrible rebuff.
"No, Acton," answered Mr. Welsby; "as long as the school continues to be
disgraced by these repeated thefts--as, for example, this recent
instance of Morris's watch and chain--I do not feel inclined to allow
the same privileges as before. There will be no fireworks this term."
As may be imagined, when the dux reported the result of his visit to
head-quarters, the news created great excitement. The unfortunate
occupants of the "Main-top," who were still in the position of
scapegoats, were hunted round the place by an indignant mob, and fled,
vainly protesting their innocence, from one shelter to another, until
they finally escaped from the playing field into the open country, where
they hid behind hedges for the remainder of the afternoon.
"Look here," exclaimed Jack Vance, as the Triple Alliance were wending
their way from the playground to the house, "there's only one thing to
be done, and that is, we must set Miss Eleanor on old Welsby's track.
She'll make him alter his mind. Some one must go and ask her.--Acton,
you're the man; you must do it!"
"I'm shot if I do!" answered the dux, turning round to face the trio,
and walking backwards up the path; "why should I go more than any other
fellow?"
"Why, because you've got such a way with you," returned Diggory.
"She'd be sure to do it for you; why, the last time you spoke to her she
gave you a lump of cake."
Acton seized the speaker by the neck and shook him like a rat.
"You're the cheekiest little imp I ever came across," he said. "I've a
jolly good mind to give you a good licking, only I don't believe you'd
care tu'pence if I did!"
"Well, anyhow you've got to go," answered Diggory, calmly picking up his
cap, which had fallen to the ground; "and if you're afraid to go alone
for fear she should think it's another proposal, I'll come with you."
After some further discussion it was agreed that the thing should be
attempted. The two boys found Miss Eleanor making cake, and the
conference began by Diggory's having his ears boxed for picking plums
out of the dough. But no one ever appealed to Miss Eleanor without
being sure, at all events, of a patient hearing, and the following
morning Mr. Welsby informed the school that he had been led to
reconsider his decision regarding the fifth of November, and that they
might have their display as usual.
Accordingly, the fireworks were ordered, and arrived soon after
breakfast on the morning of the fourth. Miss Eleanor had a dread of
gunpowder, and Mr. Blake sent Jack Vance to tell Noaks to carry the
box as usual down into the shed.
"Humph!" growled the man, as the boy gave him the message. "It's a nice
thing that I should have to fetch and carry all your fooling playthings
for you; it's a pity you young gen'lemen can't do something for
yourselves, instead of bothering me."
"Well, it isn't my orders," answered Jack; "it's Mr. Blake's."
"Mr. Blake's, is it? All right, I'll do it when I can spare the time."
When the boys came out at interval, the box was still lying about in the
yard, although there were heavy clouds overhead threatening rain.
Mr. Blake sent for Noaks, and a rather sharp passage of arms took place
between them, which ended in the man's being told to leave what he was
doing and carry the fireworks down to the shed.
"I believe he left them on purpose, in the hope they'd get wet," said
Shaw. "He hates us all like poison, and I believe it's all because his
son's at the other school. D'you remember what a row he kicked up when
he heard Acton say that the Philistines were cads for shooting at us
with catapults?"
"Yes," answered Morris; "and if he hates us, he hates Blake a jolly
sight worse. He's been like it ever since that football match; and
he'll get sacked if he doesn't mind, for Blake won't stand his cheek
much longer."
The purchase of fireworks had this year been more extensive than on any
previous occasion, and every one was looking forward with great
anticipation to the business of the following evening.
"I say, Diggy," cried Acton at the close of afternoon school, "I wish
you'd run down into the playground and bring up that football flag
that's got to be mended; I left it in the corner by the shed.
I'd go myself, but I want to finish this letter before tea."
Diggory trotted off to fetch the flag, and Jack Vance, who was loitering
about one of the passages, accompanied him down into the playground.
It was very dark, the stars being hidden by heavy clouds.
"I say," exclaimed Diggory, "it'll be a splendid night for the fireworks
if it's like this to-morrow. We must get--Hark! what's that?"
"I didn't hear anything."
"Yes, there was a sort of a rapping sound. Hush! there it is again."
Jack heard it this time. "It's some one knocking very gently against
that door leading into Locker's Lane," he whispered.
They groped their way across the playground until they reached the wall.
There was no mistake about it--some one was gently tapping with his
knuckles on the other side of the door.
"Who's there?" asked Jack Vance.
"I want to speak to the young gen'leman who was locked up t'other day in
the cow-shed," was the answer, given in a low voice which Diggory
instantly recognized.
"I know him," he said; "it's Joe Crump. Here, give me a leg up, and
I'll talk to him over the wall.--All right, Joe; I'm the chap."
"Well, if you are," answered the voice, "you'll remember you offered me
a bob if I could find out and tell you when somebody was going to do
something."
"Well, what's the news?"
"Give me the money first, and then I'll tell you."
Jack Vance fortunately had the required coin in his pocket, and Diggory
dropped it into Joe Crump's cap.
"Well, the news is this," said the latter, speaking in the same low
tone--"that there Noaks and Hogson are coming up here to-night just
afore nine o'clock, and they're a-going to drown your fireworks."
"Drown our fireworks! why, what ever d'you mean? How do they know we've
got any fireworks? and how can they get at them when they're all locked
up?"
"I can't say," returned Crump, "so it's no use asking me. I only knows
that Noaks is a-going to do it; 'drown 'em all in a bucket of water,'
was what he said. Remember you promised to tell nothink about me,
that's all. Good-night, mister!"
The stranger vanished in the darkness, and Diggory dropped down from the
wall.
"Here's a pretty go!" he remarked. "What are we to do? there's no time
to lose. Come on, Jack, let's go and tell Acton."
The latter was engaged on the closing sentence of his letter; but on
hearing the intelligence which Diggory had to impart, he threw the
unfinished epistle into his desk, and rose to his feet with an
exclamation of astonishment.
"D'you think it's really true? or is this fellow, Lump or Bump or
whatever you call him, trying to take a rise out of us, or telling lies
to earn the shilling?"
"I don't think so," answered Diggory, "and I'll tell you why. For some
reason or other, he's at daggers drawn with young Noaks and Hogson.
I think they've knocked him about, and he's doing it to pay them out."
"But how did they get to know about our fireworks? and how do they
reckon they're going to get them out of the shed? Look here, hadn't we
better tell Blake?"
"We can't do that," answered Jack Vance, "or it'll get Diggy in a row.
If he says anything about Joe Crump, it'll all come out about his having
been in Locker's Lane when the Philistines caught him, and of course
that's against rules."
"What time did he say they meant to come?"
"About a quarter to nine."
There was a silence which lasted for over a minute; then Diggory spoke.
"This is what I think we'd better do. If they come at all, they are
certain to be here soon after half-past eight, because I heard Fox
telling Blake on the day of the match that they go to bed at nine.
We won't tell any one, but as soon as 'prep' is over we'll cut down into
the playground, and when they come we'll kick up a row. They'll soon
make tracks if they find they're discovered, and it'll be better than
saying anything to Blake about it, and we shall have defeated them
ourselves."
"All right," answered Acton. "But it'll look queer if we all three stop
out from supper; two's enough. I'll go for one, and you and Vance toss
up."
This suggestion was accepted with some reluctance, as both boys were
anxious to take part in the adventure. Acton's word, however, was law,
and eventually Diggory was chosen by fate to be his companion.
Directly after tea all the boys paid a visit to the shed; the door was
securely locked, as also was the one leading into Locker's Lane, and it
seemed impossible for the Philistines to carry out their evil designs
upon the fireworks.
"I believe it's all bunkum," said Acton, as they strolled back towards
the house. "However, we'll come down as we said, and just see if
anything happens."
Three boys, at all events, did very little work that evening, for it was
impossible to concentrate one's mind on Caesar or on French verbs with
such an adventure looming in the near future. How would the Philistines
get at the fireworks? Would they change their minds, and instead of
drowning them apply a slow match and blow up the shed? or would it,
after all, turn out to be only a false alarm, raised by the boy Crump
for the sake of the promised shilling?
These and other thoughts filled the minds of the trio as they sat
frowning at the books in front of them. The clock seemed to go slower
and slower, until they really began to wonder whether it had stopped.
At length the long hand reached the half-past. Mr. Blake yawned, put
down his paper, and said, "Put away your work, and pass on to supper."
Acton and Diggory, both tingling with excitement, lingered behind until
the rest had left the room; then, when the coast was clear, they slipped
out into the garden, and hurried down the sloping path. It was
considerably lighter than it had been before tea; the clouds had cleared
away, and there were plenty of stars.
"Locked," muttered Acton, examining the shed. "Locked," he repeated,
trying the door leading into Locker's Lane. "I don't believe there's
anything in it. They might get over the wall if one gave the other a
leg up, but then how's the last man to get back again?"
"Well, if there's nothing in it," answered Diggory, "how should Joe
Crump have got to know we had any fireworks in the place? There must--
Hush! what's that?"
There was a sound of footsteps coming down the path from the house.
"_Cave!_" cried Acton. "It's Blake; let's hide!"
Several shrubs growing in the garden and overhanging the boarded
partition threw one corner of the playground into deep shadow. The boys
rushed into the angle, and, crouching down in the inky darkness, were at
once hidden from the view of any one who might advance even to within a
few feet of their hiding-place.
They had hardly time to conceal themselves, when a man, the outline of
whose figure they could just make out in the gloom, came through the
garden door, and, advancing a few yards, stood still, turning his head
from side to side as though looking to make sure that the quadrangle was
empty.
"He heard us talking," whispered Acton.
The new-comer having apparently come to the conclusion that he was
alone, walked slowly across to the shed, halted in front of the door,
and the next moment there was the sound of a key being fitted into the
lock. At that instant Diggory, who had been craning his neck forward to
get a better view of the intruder, suddenly gripped Acton's arm, and,
putting his mouth close to the latter's ear, whispered,--
"_It isn't Blake; it's old Noaks!_ Now keep quiet," he added, as his
companion made a movement as though he meant to rush out of their
hiding-place; "let's see what he does."
"He's the thief who stole all those things!" answered Acton excitedly.
"He must have another key, and he's going to bag something now."
Noaks (for certainly it was he) disappeared inside the shed; but in a
few seconds he was out again, and once more stood waiting as though
undecided what to do next.
Before the boys could have counted ten, there was a low whistle in the
lane.
"They've come," whispered Diggory. "He's got the key of the door, and
is going to let them in."
His words were speedily verified, and the next moment two more figures
entered the playground, the object of their visit being at once made
evident by the fact that one of them was carrying a bucket. It was too
dark to distinguish their faces, but the short conversation which took
place on their entry soon made them known to the two watchers.
"Now, then," said old Noaks, "if you're going to do it, just look
sharp."
"Awful joke, isn't it, dad?" answered one of the new-comers. "Lend us a
hand, and we'll dip 'em all in this bucket and put 'em back again."
"No, I shan't," returned the man. "I don't know nothink about it.
It's your game, and all I promised was I'd open the door."
"Well, show us where the box is.--Come on, Hogson; don't make more row
than you can help."
After a moment's hesitation and some muttered remarks about "that there
Blake" and "them uppish young dogs," Noaks senior led the way across the
gravel, and followed by the two Philistines entered the shed. Hardly
had they crossed the threshold when Diggory started up, kicked off his
slippers, crept swiftly and noiselessly as a shadow across the ground,
and before his companion had time to realize what was happening, the
door of the shed was slammed to and locked on the outside.
To describe exactly what followed would be well-nigh impossible, as even
the principal actors themselves seemed to have but a confused
recollection of the part they played. Those concerned, however, will
probably never forget Diggory's bursting into the room as they sat
finishing supper, and striking every one dumb with amazement by saying
to Mr. Blake, "Please, sir, some fellows are stealing our fireworks, and
I've locked them up in the shed." And there will still remain in their
minds memories of a wild rush to the playground; of old Noaks being
peremptorily ordered to "clear out," and on attempting to bandy words
with Mr. Blake, being taken by the scruff of the neck and "chucked out;"
of the two Philistines being conducted, under a strong escort, to
Mr. Welsby's study; of a polite note being dispatched by the latter to
Mr. Philips; and of the unmitigated delight of the Birchites when Hogson
and Noaks junior were delivered over into the hands of Mr. Fox,
and marched off by that gentleman to take their trial at Horace House.
Every one was in high spirits. Acton and Diggory were made to tell
their story over twenty times. Kennedy and Jacobs were at once declared
innocent, and instead of being looked upon as outcasts, came to be
regarded as martyrs who had suffered in a good cause. Old Noaks was
clearly the culprit. He volunteered no explanation as regarded his
possession of a duplicate key to the shed door, and though no attempt
was made to bring the charge home against him, there was little doubt as
to his guilt, and he was dismissed the next morning.
The firework display came off the following evening, and was a great
success. Every rocket or Roman candle that shot into the air seemed to
attest the final triumph of the Birchites over the Philistines, and
was cheered accordingly. I say final triumph, for the removal of young
Noaks and Hogson from the rival school caused a great change for the
better among the ranks of Horace House. The old feud died out, giving
place to a far better spirit, which was manifested each term in the
friendly manner in which the teams met for matches at cricket and
football.
This sounds very much like the end of a story; but it is not, and for a
connecting-link to join this chapter to those that follow, we will go
forward for one moment into the future.
Nearly a year later Diggory and Jack Vance were sauntering arm in arm
across one of the fives-courts at Ronleigh College.
"D'you remember," remarked the former, "how, that night we caught the
Philistines bagging our fireworks, you said, 'Well, I should think now
we've just about finished with young Noaks'?"
"Did I?" answered Jack, shrugging his shoulders. "My eye, I ought to
have said we'd just begun!"