HILL DIFFICULTY.
"He was a rat, and she was a rat,
And down in one hole they did dwell;
And both were as black as a witch's cat,
And they loved one another well.
"He smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese,
And they both pronounced it good;
And both remarked it would greatly add
To the charms of their daily food."
--_Anon._
The cargo for Ashville had been discharged, the stuff for Shendon stowed
away. A fresh horse waited on the path; the gathering of people had
scattered, carrying their goods and their gossip with them. The boy was
feasting upon a hunch of bread and cheese, as a change from devouring
his story. Bargee was in the act of stepping on board when a man laid a
hand on his arm, and a rough voice arrested his steps. Two persons were
standing beside him.
"Say, mate, will you give me an' my wife a lift as far as Engleton?
We've been on tramp this last week, an' we're both dead beat."
Bargee looked curiously at the speaker, a great, ill-looking fellow,
with coarse red hair and a crooked eye. From the man he glanced at his
companion, a tall, broadly-built woman, with bold black eyes, olive
skin, and flaming cheeks. They were the pair, in short, who had watched
Darby and Joan from behind the clump of hazel bushes as they sat upon
the tree-stump that day in Copsley Wood.
"Can't," said the young bargeman shortly. "It's against rules for this
yer boat to carry passengers."
"Ay, ay, I know all that; but just for once you might oblige a chap. We
could make it worth yer while," added the fellow insinuatingly.
"Do now," put in the woman in a wheedling voice, fixing her big, bold
eyes on bargee's face. "My feet's blistered, an' my legs that stiff I
couldn't walk another mile to save my life."
"Don't then," he answered shortly, preparing to push past her and get
into the boat.
But she clung to his hand, determined not to be thrown off, smiling
broadly into his dull face, almost dazzling him with the flash of her
strong white teeth, which she displayed so freely.
"Well, to be sure, who would think now that a fine feller like you could
be so hard-hearted! Sich a well-set-up lad," she continued, "an' with
sich a fetchin' kind o' look, shouldn't be backward in helpin' other
folks, especially a woman as is tired out like me."
"Can't you stop here overnight and rest, then? you'll be fit enough to
foot it to Engleton in the morning. Where's your hurry?" asked bargee,
beginning to relent under the smiling glances and flattering words of
the temptress.
"Well, it's this way," explained the red-haired man, fixing bargee with
his straight eye, while the crooked one gazed into space about half a
foot above his head. "We belongs to the Satellite Circus Company; we're
the proprietors, in fact, me an' my missis here--"
"You don't mean that old shandrydan of a caravan that passed along there
two or three days ago?" and bargee jerked his thumb in the direction of
the hilly tract sloping up from the canal course, through which a narrow
road, little better than a sheep track, wound its circuitous way. "Do
you call _yon_ a circus company?" he asked, laughing broadly into the
proprietor's ugly face.
"Undoubtedly--the Satellite Circus Company, as I think I remarked
before. We're a small party, small but select--_very_" and the
red-haired man winked knowingly in the direction of his wife. "As I was
tryin' to explain, the caravan with part of our troupe went on to
Barchester the other day; but me an' my missis here--she wasn't feelin'
well-like--we stayed behind in the country to recruit, as the newspapers
says about all the big folks, an' get the benefit o' the fresh air."
"Then 'twas ye was loiterin' about Firdale an' Copsley Wood scarin'
people out o' their wits? Poachin'--eh?" asked the young fellow, with a
grin.
The proprietor of the Satellite Circus Company made no reply, and after
a moment's hesitation his wife answered for him.
"Look ee here," she said insinuatingly, sidling at the same time nearer
to bargee, and speaking with her mouth close to his ear. "Wouldn't
_them_ make a tasty stew for yer supper to-night, my lad?" opening as
she spoke a huge wallet which hung concealed beneath the folds of her
faded scarlet shawl, and drawing from its depths a couple of plump young
rabbits and a pair of wood-pigeons.
"By jingo! wouldn't they though!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips at
the prospect of the toothsome meal the woman was willing to provide.
What a pity he could not oblige her and her husband! They were only
tramps, to be sure, but decent enough for all that. What harm could they
do on board the old tub of a boat? And what a supper he should have
after he reached Barchester!
Bargee looked about him. The boy was seated beside the tiller and paying
no attention to his master; he was still busy with his bread and cheese.
The toll-keeper yet lingered within the office, so for his benefit
bargee raised his voice as he said roughly,--
"No, no, I tell ye. There's no use o' ye hangin' an' pesterin' here no
longer. I durstn't disobey orders, an' that's the end o't." Then he
added in a rapid whisper into the woman's quick ear as he boarded his
craft,--
"Push on to the next lock, it's about a mile further, an' I'll take ye
in then. But mind, if ye're asked any questions, mum's the word."
With a knowing wink and comprehensive smile the pair leisurely sauntered
off the wharf; and when the canal-boat slowed in passing the next toll,
with an agile spring the red-haired man leaped from the path to the
deck, then helped his missis, as he called the bold-eyed, black-browed
woman, in beside him.
Thus Joe Harris, or Thieving Joe, as he was known among his associates,
and his wife Moll came to be passengers along with our two little
travellers on board the _Smiling Jane_.
The bargeman himself now took the tiller. The boy had stolen back to his
story, so the newcomers drew somewhat apart, where they sat talking to
each other in subdued, earnest tones of the small voyagers then sleeping
so serenely in the dirty bunker below--the pretty pair whom they had of
set purpose shadowed along the canal, watched aboard the boat, and
determinedly followed.
"We've trapped them sure enough this time, Moll, my beauty," said the
man, indicating the cabin and the little creatures therein by a side nod
of his great red head.
"Ay, surely," answered Moll, with a slow smile. "I expec' the pretty
dears is sleepin' sweet as angels down in that dirty hole. But, Joe, now
as we have got 'em, do you think it'll be safe to keep 'em? Won't their
folks make a row, an' sen' the beaks after us?"
"Folks!" echoed Mr. Harris in mockery. "My, you are a green un, though
you're sich a black beauty! Do you suppose if they had any folks
belongin' to 'em worth speakin' o' that they'd be let go galavantin'
round as we've seed them--here, there, an' everywhere? No, no; they'd be
walkin' about hand in hand as prim as peonies, wi' a starched-up nurse
girl at their heels."
"They're out on a lark, you bet; that's what it is," said Moll, nodding
her head sagaciously. "Kids like they is allus up to somethin'. Maybe
they've runned away. More'n likely."
"Humbug!" snapped Joe shortly. "Didn't you notice their clo'es? They're
nothin' but washed-out rags an' far-worn clouts!" he declared, as if his
opinion should settle the question beyond further doubt.
"Rags an' clouts if you like," agreed Moll cheerily, "but they wasn't
allus that. They're the remains o' real nice good things. Mind, Joe, I
knows, an' you don't; men never does about sich matters."
"Stuff an' nonsense," he growled. "Clo'es or rags, it don't matter a
button, for they're only common brats, I tell you. There'll be a bit o'
an outcry after them for a day or two; then it'll die down as quick as
it rose. Poor folks haven't time to indulge their feelin's. Besides,
once we've got clear off they'll never find us. We've covered our tracks
purty cleverly, I'm thinkin', an' so has the kids," he added, with a
smothered chuckle.
"Hum! Well, maybe you're right, my man," said Moll, after a moment's
silence, during which she sat twirling the fringes of her old red shawl.
"I'm willin' to stand by you in this business, as I've done in others
afore now," she added meaningly, while her better half scowled at her,
and muttered under his breath something that was hardly complimentary;
"but if trouble comes o't, as it will, or my name's not Moll Harris, you
can't say as I didn't warn you, like a wife should."
"Shut up!" commanded Joe gruffly; but as this was a frequent and
favourite remark of his, Moll did not take the trouble to resent it.
Then he changed his tune, and continued in an eager undertone,--
"They'll make the fortune o' the company, Moll, old girl, will them
kids! The little chap's just at the best age to train for the tight-rope
an' the trapeze. An' the lass, with her yeller curls an' big eyes same's
a wax doll's--my, just you picter the crowds she'll draw, trippin'
round so pretty-like with Bruno at her foot! Can't you see the big bills
an' posters starin' at you from every wall, flarin' out o' every
winder:--
"'_The Wonderful Child Acrobat! The Most Marvellous Aeronaut of the
Age! Little Boy-Butterfly, and Bambo the Musical Dwarf!_
"'_Sweet Sissy Sunnylocks, and Bruno the Performing Bear!_
"'_Countless other attractions! Come one, come all,
To the Satellite Company's Variety Hall!_'
"What do you think o' that, Moll, my lady? That'll empty folk's pockets,
or Joe Harris is mistaken for once in his life. My, this _is_ a stroke
o' luck!" and Mr. Harris rubbed his dirty hands together and laughed
gleefully. "We've been on the lookout for a couple o' youngsters this
many a day; now we've hit upon them at last. A bear an' a dwarf's all
very well, but there's nothin' that touches the hearts an' reaches the
coins o' an audience like a kid, especially if it has got great
innercent eyes an' golden hair!"
"Oh, it's mighty fine for _you_, no doubt," said Moll angrily. "You'll
eat an' drink your fill, an' dress up in fine clo'es o' an off evenin'
to go rollickin' about an' enjoy yourself. But what good'll it do _me_,
I'd like to know?" she asked shrilly. "I share yer dirty work, I know,
but precious little else; just grub, grub away all the year roun', with
never a bit o' pleasure, nor a stitch o' handsome things to my back!"
"I'll give you a silk gownd, Moll, I declare I will, if this bold
venture turns out for us what I expect--whatever colour you please; only
say the word," said Mr. Harris grandly.
"I'd like claret--a nice bright claret with plenty o' lace, an' that
shiny trimmin' wi' tinsel through it," admitted Moll, beginning to
recover her good humour, and flashing a smiling glance into the squinty
eye fixed somewhere about her forehead. "Ay, an' what else?" she
demanded, determined to take full advantage of her husband's unusually
bland mood.
"I'll buy you a gold ring too, my girl--one o' them real shiners,"
promised Joe, thinking that as he was in for the penny he might as well
pledge himself to the pound. "Ah! that makes you sit up, I'm thinkin',"
and the generous man gave his wife a playful poke in the ribs.
"Reely an' truly, Joe, fair an' square? A true di'mon', an' none o' your
sham bits o' glass?" cried Moll in ecstasy.
"Fair an' square, my woman; a real di'mon' as big's a pea, Moll. There's
my hand on't, if you just help me through wi' this little business. You
can, you know, if you like."
"So help me bob!" said Moll quite solemnly, and the well-matched pair
shook hands over their guilty compact. And thus Moll, who in her better
moods might have befriended the children, pledged herself, for sake of
vanity and greed, to work her hardest for their undoing.
Twilight was drawing in when the canal-boat stopped at Engleton, the
last stage on the journey before reaching Barchester. It was a tiny
village, nestling at the foot of a range of undulating hills that rose,
plateau after plateau, until their summits seemed to meet the sky. The
wharf was crowded as usual at that slack evening hour. And in the babel
of voices, banging of boxes, shifting of stuff, and general confusion,
our little travellers, rested and refreshed by their long sleep and the
remainder of the provisions which they had consumed in the cabin, had no
difficulty in stealing off the boat and away from the wharf without
attracting any notice, except from two persons, a man and woman--Joe
Harris and his wife Moll, who did not lose sight of them for a moment,
but followed hard upon their heels.
"Look, Joan!" cried Darby, as they turned their faces towards the hills.
"See, we're near the Happy Land now!" and the lad pointed to the golden
radiance that glowed in the sky and bathed the peaks behind which the
sun had only lately sunk from sight. "That's the light from the city.
They've opened the gates because they know we're coming.
"Hurry, lovey! Here, take my arm. That's what father used to say when
mother was tired; I 'member quite well. It's just a little bit further
now. In one of my Sunday books there's a picture of Christian climbing a
hill that led to the City Beautiful. The Hill Difficulty it was called.
I expect this is it. Come on, Joan; we're almost there! Then we'll never
be tired any more, but 'reign, reign for aye.'"
At that moment the children heard steps behind them, and looked round to
see, only a few yards away, an ugly red-haired man, with a curious
crooked eye and evil face, and a tall, sturdy woman with gleaming teeth,
dusky locks, and crimson cheeks. He had seen them before, Darby
remembered all at once, hanging about the back gate at Copsley Farm one
day when he was peeping from the skylight in the stable loft. They must
be the gipsies who had been haunting Copsley Wood; and the brave boy
drew his sister closer to his side, as if with his own small body he
would shield her from all harm.
"Good-evenin', my little dears," spoke the man's gruff voice right above
Darby's head.
"Good-evening," answered the boy courteously, at the same time
instinctively putting up his hand in order to raise his hat in the
direction of Moll's flashing eyes. But there was no hat there, so he
gave her a military salute instead.
"My, you are a rum un!" laughed the lady, looking admiringly upon the
charming child.--"You're right, as usual, Joe Harris," she whispered,
turning to her husband. "Them's the style for the Satellite Company! The
silk gownd an' the shiner's mine; you can buy them soon's you please."
So saying, Moll snatched the screaming Joan clean out of her brother's
encircling arms, raised her to her breast, and completely smothered the
frightened child's sobs in the folds of her old scarlet shawl.
The after-glow had faded from out the west; the hilltops seemed bare and
brown. The gates of the city were closed, thought Darby, and his lips
quivered in disappointment as they had not done from fright. The moon
now sailed slowly on her way through a placid sea of pearly sky. Her
beams flooded the fields with a soft, pure radiance; they lingered over
the sluggish waters of the canal until they shone with light and
borrowed beauty. Everything was quiet; all around was peace.
Darby boldly stood his ground, and manfully faced his foes. Yet, with
the wicked countenance of Joe Harris bending over him, with Joan's
stifled cries beating in his ears, it was impossible to do anything more
than _seem_ brave; and the plucky little lad's face blanched paler than
the moonbeams, while his heart stood still with nameless fear.