THE DUCK CAVE ADVENTURE
"Ande, cocoa is pretty dry with such stuff."
Dick's great head arose from the hamper package which he was examining,
and he flourished in one hand a roasted chicken. The hamper was one he
had received that very day from home. They had ordered it brought into
their study room, and, miracle to relate, it was done without the
knowledge of monitors or small boys.
"What do you propose?" said Ande, as he, too, began investigation. Dick
scratched his head dubiously and then his face brightened.
"Eggs."
"Old Ironsides is gone daft. Where does your majesty expect to get eggs,
and if ye do get them, what are we going to do with them? Do ye think we
are going to be egg-sucking weasels?"
Dick grinned, and, as he tried to set a dramatic attitude, flourished
his arm, "We'll set forth the vessels of silver and gold----"
"Avast, there, my lad," said Ande, imitating the tones of smuggler Jack.
"And 'ave a-blooming----"
"Cough it out, my elephantine infant."
"Belshassar's feast. I have an idea."
"Whisper it not in Gath, publish it not in Ascalon. An idea," chuckling,
"from an egg-regious Lizard philosopher."
"Egg-nogg," continued Dick, grinning.
"The very thing," said Ande, assuming a more sober tone, "but where?"
"We must first get outside of town," said Dick, soberly.
"No stealing?"
"No stealing."
"'Pon honour?"
"'Pon honour."
Forth they started, cautiously slipping downstairs and out into the
street, where both darted away at a rapid pace. On the highroad that led
to the little town of Prospidnic, the foremost paused, and puffing like
an engine the latter caught up to him.
"Ande, remember the Truro champion footrace?"
Ande nodded.
"Well, I believe 'ee could beat the champion; you went so fast I nigh
lost sight of you."
"Now, what's your plan?"
Dick paused a moment to gain his breath, and then spoke.
"Do ye remember the cave near the Red River? Well, the ducks from all
around gather there. It's public property, being on the free downs. Eggs
used to be there in plenty, but some snivelling squire's steward put a
door on it and now tries to bag the industry."
"Art sure the squire didn't buy the section?"
"Well, if he 'as, the ducks that gather there are not his, and 'e 'asn't
a mortgage on the eggs of futurity infinitum. The squire's steward is
the robber of public rights and human freedom, and----"
"Public eggs," said Ande. "Down with the tyrant,--_sic semper
tyrannis_--and up with the eggs."
Onward they pressed at a dog-trot. It was evening and getting dusk when
they reached the neighbourhood.
"You go in, Dick, and I'll mount watchman."
The door was the contrivance of a genius, for, while it was designed to
hold out boys and men, yet a small aperture beneath favored the entrance
of ducks and other smaller creatures. The cave was in the side of a hill
near the Red River stream, and opened on the roadway.
"I'll go in as soon as I get un open," says Dick, as he wrenched at the
latch. By dint of tugging and pulling, the hasp was loosened, and in
went Dick, crawling on his hands and knees, the height of the tunnel not
permitting him to walk upright.
"Hast found any?"
"No, steward must 'ave been here. 'Tis a most beastly place and nigh
turns one's stomach," muttered Dick from the interior.
There was the sound of a horse's tread in the distance, and the sound of
whistling approaching. Fearing that the open door would excite
suspicion, Ande gently closed it, and the hasp being a spring affair,
fell into place. Then, stealing cautiously behind a neighbouring hedge,
he awaited the passing of the traveller.
Dick, having made certain and wealthy discoveries in the egg line, his
bag full and certain pockets bulged to their utmost, was, in the
meantime, cautiously returning to the exit, where, before he knew it, he
had bumped with the force of a battering ram against the closed door. It
would not yield to any of his efforts, and then, thinking Ande was
joking him, he cried out in impatient voice, "Lemme out, Ande, do, I got
eggs a-plenty." Receiving no answer, he began butting afresh, and roared
louder.
Now the horseman had approached and heard the infernal roaring and
racket that seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth. He was a
simple, unsophisticated countryman, with an appetite for ale and a
passion for thievery that was well known to the community. Greggs, as he
was surnamed, was not noted for his personal courage, and the loneliness
of the place, even in daylight, the gloom of the overshadowing trees,
and the dusk of twilight, was not calculated to make or add any more
heroism to his nature. Within his breast, as within all countrymen of
the time, and even still, in many districts, there had constantly been
drilled the old beliefs in witches, fairies, giants, goblins, and a host
of other superstitions with which Cornwall has been replete for ages. It
was no wonder, then, that when he came within the border of the shadow,
etched darkly by the trees, he whistled louder, and finally burst into
singing a hymn tune, to let all wandering spirits realise that he was a
godly fellow, kicking his steed all the while to hasten its ambling
pace.
"Got eggs--lemme out--Ande--lemme out!"
The horse stood stock still, refusing to budge an inch forward, and
trembling in great terror. In vain the fearful man began to belabour and
kick his leathery sides; the animal would not go forward, but began to
uneasily sidle around and around. The butting and bellowing of Dick
still continued, with little intermission. Greggs ceased singing, the
great drops of perspiration stood out in beads on his face, and with
another frantic effort he kicked his horse's sides in an agony of fear.
Then, as the butting was renewed with greater force, a cry came from
Greggs's lips:
"Oh, Mr. Devil, 'ave mercy 'pon me!"
Dick was indefatigable in his butting and bellowing, but even his
patience began to give way and he began to swear in a mild way.
"Damme, Ande, come take eggs!"
Each word was punctuated by a savage butt from Dick's great head on the
door.
"Oh, no, Mr. Devil,--not that--Greggs done no 'arm," mistaking Dick's
cry for the devil's warning "Damnation to Greggs."
Again came the stifled underground roar, coming forth with a muffled:
"Take--(crash)--eggs--(crash)--damme--(crash)"--and a word beginning
with h.
"Mercy, Mr. Devil, doan't 'ee take Greggs there. Ah, why did I leave the
hangel tavern!"
"Damnation!"
"No, no, Mr. Devil."
"A beastly trick," roared Dick, still butting away.
"Aye, kind sir, I'm guilty of many beastly tricks."
"Ande, you deceiving cad."
"Yes, I confess I 'ave deceived dad."
"Here I am--beating m'head."
"Aye, I beat un on the 'ead, too," moaned Greggs.
"Like a thieving robber."
"Yes, Mr. Devil, I robbed un, but 'ave mercy. I promise to take un all
back," groaned Greggs, in terror, still kicking his steed, that shied
around and around.
"Come, take the bag, you wretched cad."
"Aye, I promise; I'll take the bag back to dad."
"It's full," roared Dick.
"No, no, it was honly 'alf full."
"Zounds!" swore Dick.
"Pounds! No 'e wadn't; they were mostly shillings."
"Let me out!"
"No! Doan't 'ee come out. I promise, Mr. Devil--Oh!----"
The last remark of Greggs gave place to a shriek of agonised fear. The
door, under repeated blows of Dick, gave way, and out he rolled with his
bag of eggs, looking in the darkness like a hideous monster come up from
the deep. The horse, in mad terror, wheeled and galloped back to town;
Greggs, praying and howling like a madman, hugging his horse's neck, let
fall his basket in the way. Ande was rolling in the grass beyond the
hedge, choking with laughter.
Dick was a picture of wrath, as he stood sputtering by the road-side. His
clothes were foul, the natural result of crawling into a duck cave, and
he was apparently sick at the stomach.
"What's wrong, Dick?"
"A beastly trick,--phew--ah, egg--phew--ah, in
mouth,--phew--ah--addled--broke."
Ande roared and roared with shrieking laughter. Dick had filled the bag
and his pockets, and finding one extra one, had placed it in his mouth
for safe keeping, just before the latch gave way.
"Well," said Ande, "they aren't all broke, and the most must be good."
Dick, at first was very much incensed, but Ande, while he helped to
clean him up at the Red River, explained how he had closed the door to
avert suspicion. Dick was mollified when the description of Greggs's
terrors was related, and laughed a faint laugh that partly brought back
his good humour.
It appeared that Greggs had ill-treated his poor old father, and had
robbed him of some of his savings. Taking warning from the supposed
admonition of his Satanic majesty, he afterward treated his father with
the greatest consideration, refunding the shillings he had stolen.
Nothing, however, could induce him to pass that way again, and the story
getting wind and becoming much exaggerated, few would trust themselves
in that locality after dusk.
"Whew! Look here, Dick." Ande picked up the basket and drew from it a
small bottle of rye.
"The very thing we need," gasped Dick, "the egg-nog shall become
punch."
"I don't know, Dick. You see, if we take it, it'll be stealing. The
school rules are against it, and no matter how sparingly and temperately
a fellow uses it no allowance is made."
"Well, if we give it back to Greggs, it'll do 'im more harm than it will
us; then, we can send Greggs the cost of it, so it won't be stealing,
and as to school rules, why, we are breaking school rules now by being
away," said Dick, reassuringly.
"'Twon't do, Dick; the breaking of one law doesn't justify the breaking
of another. We'll let it behind."
"Very well," said Dick, but at the same moment, concealed by the dusk of
the evening, he slipped the flask into his pocket.
"You'll 'ave to 'cave' about getting the eggs in," said Ande, as they
trotted along home, back to Helston.
"That's what's worrying me," said Dick.
"I have it," said Ande, and the plan seemed so feasible that he resumed
his old bantering tone. "Dick, old lad, congratulate your friend on
being a man of infinite resources. I have a plan, my Ajax of egg-hunting
renown and Lucifer reputation."
"Huh," growled Dick, "we're getting near town."
"A rope--the hamper rope," said Ande; "that beast, Creakle, will be on
guard within, or Tenny. I go in empty-handed,--see--you stay out below
the study window, in the dark angle; I let down the rope,--presto--up
come the eggs. You come in empty-handed,--see?" and Ande gave Dick a
nudge.
Dick brightened up perceptibly.
"But 'ow to get you in with that pungent, ducky aroma, without exciting
the blatant curiosity of Creakle, or the sharp smellers of
Sherwood--um--das ist die frage. Whew! What a beastly odour."
Dick looked worried and down-hearted.
"But cheer up, Dick, you can't help it, and we'll get you in some how,
never fear. The plan is sure to work."
The plan did work like a charm, and soon they were in the comfortable
study, Dick clothed in clean garments, and the steaming egg-nogg and
eatables before them. The evening's adventure, the terror of Greggs, the
chicken, and other viands, made the evening pass pleasantly by. During
the close of the feast, Tenny rapped, but was not let in.
"Now Creakle will be next," said Ande, "and we can't keep a monitor out.
Away with the things!"
The things were hurriedly placed away, the Virgils opened, and with
lexicons in hand, they seemed busily and studiously engaged when steps
were heard advancing quickly along the corridor. The door was swung
open, it being unbarred, and in stalked Sherwood and Creakle. The latter
had a cunning twinkle in his eye; the former with grave, severe
countenance.
"Gentlemen," began Sherwood, in stern voice, but he went no further.
Ande looked up with a mild, reproving eye.
"I believe no student is to be disturbed in the evening study hour,
except upon probable cause of misdemeanour; I believe that is an
unwritten law."
"Quite right, gentlemen, excuse me," and Master Sherwood backed out,
followed by Creakle. Humiliation is a poor word to express the feelings
of the under-master. Creakle could be heard expostulating with him in
the corridor.
"I saw them both, on the run out of town, and saw them enter on their
return, and there was a smell of ducks, sir, on Mr. Thomas's clothes."
"Nonsense," said Master Sherwood, "how should it not be manifest to me
also?" Sherwood had not thought of the possibility of Thomas changing
his clothes.
Creakle still protested.
"Absurd! Why, sir, do you know you are accusing the head of the fifth?"
said Master Sherwood, exasperated. "Do you know your misplaced zeal has
involved me in censure that was just, and a rebuke from fifth form boys
that was, to say the least, humiliating? You, sir, should have known
better. There must have been an upheaval of latent stupidity within you
to thus bring disgrace upon both master and school. Sir, how will the
public esteem our reputation when they are informed that master and
monitor are banded together to disturb the study hours, and falsely
accuse honourable students."
"I thought," began Creakle, humbly.
"You thought, sir; what right had you to think? You must know before
recklessly accusing honourable students and bringing disgrace, not on me
alone, but on the head."
Master Sherwood, in high dudgeon, went to his study, and Creakle,
crestfallen, retired to the form room, where he had charge over the
smaller form study hours.
"Now," said Dick, "that spying cad must be brought down to give him some
sparks of honour."
"What's the plan?"
Dick, for the first time, refused to divulge to his chum his course, but
divesting himself of his shoes cautiously slipped down to the cloakroom
below.
That night, as Creakle was donning his gown, which he always left in the
cloakroom, there arose a fearful uproar in the corridor above. Hastening
upstairs with full speed, he tripped over an invisible something and
fell with a crash to the floor. Instantly doors opened, lights appeared,
and a confused sound of many voices, and in the midst of all, along
stalked Master Sherwood.
"What is the meaning of this, Creakle?" he asked of that worthy, who was
still on the floor, dazed with his fall.
"I fell, sir."
"You did, and pray why?" with biting sarcasm.
Just then he smelt the fumes of rye on the garb of the miserable
Creakle, and his face grew dark with severity.
"You have been drinking, sir?"
"I have not," stammered the monitor.
"Don't give me the lie, sir; you are reeking with the fumes of an
ale-house. Ugh! you putrescent miscreant! This is a case for the head.
You will appear before him to-morrow. Such a disgrace! In what light
will the public view this scandalous demoralisation? Outrageous,
sir! This is the second offence to-night. I thought you were
inebriated,--intoxicated--in short, what the vulgar tongue calls drunk,
when you brought me a silly, drivelling tale of a misdemeanour of two
honourable students, and now you make it evident by staggering around,
sprawling, and destroying the peace and sobriety of the school!"
"I--I--I am not drunk."
"I call you all to witness the state of filthy inebriety of this
fellow," said Sherwood, with cold dignity.
"What do you say, sir?" said the tutor to Dick.
"He smells horrid, sir," said that worthy.
"Ah! You are all witnesses," said Sherwood, and then, turning to the
dejected Creakle, "in with you to your study, and relieve honourable men
from the abhorrent, filthy odours that assail decent olfactory organs."
Mr. Sherwood retired in dignified silence, and Creakle slunk into his
study.
"Dick, what is the moral?" said Ande, after they had reentered their
study.
"The revenge of diabolical Ajax?"
"No, the moral is this: the man who takes delight in spying on others
and revelling in their disgrace, even though he be a monitor, shall be
beaten with his own stick."