A TERRIBLE FRIGHT.
"No will-o'-the-wisp mislight thee,
No snake or slowworm bite thee,
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.
"Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear without number."
R. HERRICK.
Behind the stackyard at the Traveller's Delight the ground dipped down
into a hollow, which, even in daylight, was completely screened from the
view of any one within the house or about the yard by a great clump or
patch of scraggy furze bushes. In this secluded spot there stood a
lime-kiln, one of those built somewhat like a low circular tower, with
gaping mouth and open roof; but for many a day the kiln had not been
used--not since the present tenant entered on possession of the farm at
Hanleigh Heath. During the course of these years of disuse nature had
been busy beautifying the original ugliness of the structure. Now ivy
climbed boldly here and there over the rough mason-work, trails of late
convolvulus festooned the opening, hardy hart's-tongue and tufts of
parsley fern sprang from every crevice in the stones, while the top was
covered with a tangle of briars, nettles, and matted grass. These
combined to form a species of thatch which perfectly protected the
interior from both wind and rain.
Bambo had come upon this spot long ago. He had, in fact, slept there one
night snugly and safely, and thought to himself what a fine hiding-place
it would be in case of need, for nobody seemed to go near it. Now, in
his dilemma and sore strait, the remembrance of the old lime-kiln came
back to him, and he welcomed the idea with joy and gratitude. It would
never occur to Joe Harris to seek his runaways in such a spot--he
probably did not know of its existence--and the dwarf did not believe
that the landlord would take any part in the chase. He surmised, and
correctly too, that such a shrewd person would prefer to ignore the
claims of friendship to running the risk of bringing the Traveller's
Delight under the notice of the authorities, or mixing himself up with
what might turn out to be an awkward business.
For what seemed to the watching Bambo a very long time lights continued
to burn within the house, while now and again a burst of noisy laughter
broke the silence of the night, rising discordantly above the steady,
persistent pitter-patter, pitter-patter, drip, drip, drip of the soft,
thick autumn rain. At length the darkness and stillness of midnight held
the homestead in possession. Even the rain had ceased to fall; not a
sound was to be heard except the dwarf's hoarse, laboured breaths and
the gentle, regular breathing of the sleeping children.
Gradually and cautiously Bambo awoke Darby. For a minute or two the
little fellow could not make out where he was; but in a few hurried
whispered sentences the dwarf made him understand how near and how dire
was the danger which threatened them--how absolutely needful it was for
them to be quick, and to be wary in their attempt if they meant to
escape.
Without arousing Joan, Bambo lifted her up from her nest among the
straw, and keeping her still well wrapped up in his own worn jacket, he
held her easily in his arms. Then, with Darby pressing close beside him,
they crept noiselessly forth from the shelter and warmth of the cosy
calf-house.
By this time the moon rode high in a soft gray-blue sky, shedding a
flood of pale, pure radiance on all things, touching the homely,
commonplace details of the farmyard with a love-like caress until they
were idealized into objects of wonder and beauty. But Bambo had no eyes
just then for admiring nature's marvellous transformation scenes; the
work in hand occupied his whole attention. He barely glanced at the
moon, although he was well aware of her presence, which he considered
rather unfortunate, and heartily wished it had been still dark, because
then their movements would have been more certain to escape notice.
Slowly and stealthily they moved from the cover of the door, keeping
well within the shadow cast by the walls of the outhouses. Step by step
they stole along until they reached the greater security of the
stackyard. There they were beyond view from the windows, supposing any
one were looking out, which was hardly likely. Inch by inch they crawled
across the bright patch of a hundred yards or so between them and the
clump of friendly furze bushes. There they paused to take breath and
look about them. There was nobody at their heels; nothing in sight
except the sheep huddled in heaps for shelter behind the low stone
dikes, and the young cattle herding in groups here and there over the
wet, glistening fields. In the hollow below lay the place of refuge for
which they were bound. And just as Bruce's plucky spider made that "bold
little run at the very last pinch" which "put him into his native spot,"
so one quick rush down the incline in front of them landed the fugitives
inside the empty lime-kiln, where they were safe, for the moment at
least, with a roof over their heads, a dry green floor beneath their
feet, on which they could stretch their weary limbs.
But afterwards! The inn seemed wrapped in slumber just then. The
landlord would be back in his bed. Joe and Moll might have left--gone
off in another direction, disappointed at not finding the fugitives or
any news of them at the Traveller's Delight on their arrival; or
possibly they were resting, with the intention of making a thorough
search through the premises in the daylight next morning. This was the
more probable explanation of how matters actually stood; at the same
time, Bambo had no sense of security that it was the correct one. At
that very moment their enemies might be prowling from barn to byre, from
cart-shed to stable in pursuit of their prey. They would undoubtedly
explore the stackyard. Next, they would notice the furze bushes. They
would poke and peer among them and about them. Failing to find what they
sought, they would be sure to look this way and that, up and down, until
their eyes lighted upon the lime-kiln. Then--
Here the dwarf drew a quick breath, set his teeth hard, and again asked
himself what was to be done next.
The children were worn out. Joan sobbed from time to time in her sleep,
and brave, strong-souled little Darby shivered with cold and fright,
while he pressed closer and closer to the dwarf's side for warmth and
protection. As for Bambo himself, he was feeling extremely ill. The
fever that raged in his blood cracked his lips and parched his tongue,
until it felt in his mouth like so much dry sponge. His breathing had
become so laboured from the sharp, shooting pains in his chest and back
that it was only with difficulty he could speak; while his hot hands
shook, and his thin, stunted limbs trembled beneath the weight of his
big, ungainly body. He wondered what would happen if he were not able to
go any further! What would become of the boy and little missy if he were
to die there in the kiln before morning? Alas! there could be but one
answer to that question, with Moll Harris and Thieving Joe hovering
around like hawks about a nest of doves. But no; God was not going to
deliver them up to the destroyers in any such fashion. After having
brought them thus far on their way in safety, He would surely see them
over the rest of the road; and Bambo took heart again. They would rest
where they were until dawn; then one more effort would surely bring them
to some farm or decent cottage. He would tell the children's story, and
perhaps a cart or other conveyance could be found to take them on to
Firgrove; some one, at least, there would surely be willing to hasten to
inform the ladies of the whereabouts of the two wee wanderers.
Thus far the dwarf's thoughts ran readily on, then stopped in confusion.
Further they would not seek to penetrate, and it did not matter. Once
the little ones were safe with their friends he should have plenty of
time to think about himself. Then he would be free to lie down in some
quiet spot and sleep away some of the weakness and weariness which
every moment threatened to overpower him. Sleep! oh, if he could only
sleep until the racking pains in his chest were better!
Sleep--sleep--sleep! and perhaps it might even be permitted him not to
wake at all until he had reached that land whose inhabitants are never
sick, and the people who dwell therein are forgiven their iniquity.
"I'm afraid your cold is worse," whispered Darby at length through the
silence, that was broken only by Joan's sobbing sighs and the dwarf's
hoarse breathing, which every moment became more painful and more
difficult.
"Ay, I think it is," answered Bambo, giving the little fellow's hand a
grateful squeeze. "But don't you fret about Bambo, deary; he'll soon be
all right, never fear, once you and missy are safe at home."
"Are we far from the canal here, Mr. Bambo?" Darby again asked, after a
long pause, during which the dwarf thought he had fallen asleep.
"Yes--no--well, let me see," said the dwarf thoughtfully. "Why, it's
just a matter of about two miles as the crow flies, over the fields on
the other side of the inn."
"Could we walk as the crow flies?" demanded Darby eagerly. "That is--of
course--well, you know what I mean," and the little lad smiled and
coloured in the darkness.
"Ay, there's nothing to hinder, so far as I know. Why are you asking,
deary?"
"Because I've been thinking that if we could get there--and Joan should
be able to walk that length easily, I'm sure, after this nice long sleep
she's having--the man would let us into the boat, and that would take us
home without tiring you any more. Or we could slip on board when he
wasn't looking. You know that's how we came," added the boy, with an
amused little chuckle.
The dwarf did not answer immediately.
"Well, sonny, I wouldn't say but you're about right," he replied at
length. "I never thought of going by the canal, knowing as how the
boat's not allowed to carry passengers. But if we were to tell the man
in charge where we're bound for, and explain things a bit to him, it's
more than likely he'd stretch a point and take us to Firdale. And if he
refuses, we could do just as you say--slip in at the next stopping-place
without anybody being anything the wiser.
"Bless you for a wee wisehead!" gasped Bambo, in his hoarse, quavering
voice, at the same time drawing the child still closer to his side.
"You've put new life into me. Here I've been fearing as how I should
never reach Firgrove, and blaming the Lord for forgetting us. And now,
out of the mouth of a babe, so to speak, He brings the very plan that
will be easiest and best for us all," and tears of joy and thankfulness
trickled down the poor creature's hollow, fevered cheeks.
"We needn't go just yet, not for ever so long," said Darby, quite proud
of his post of commander-in-chief for the time being. "The boat leaves
Barchester early, early in the morning, but she doesn't reach Engleton
till about eight o'clock. I've talked with Mrs. Grey of the _Smiling
Jane_ lots and lots of times, so I know. She reaches Firdale some time
in the evening. We'll be home in time for tea. Oh, won't it be lovely!"
said Darby, clasping his hands in ecstasy.
"Ay!" assented Bambo, earnestly, solemnly. It was not of the tea he was
thinking, however, but of the deep satisfaction and gratitude with which
he would hand over his charges to their proper guardians. "And now you
must try and sleep a while, sonny, like missy here. See, lie down on
this nice dry place, and you can lean your head on Bambo's knee."
"You must rest too," coaxed Darby sweetly. "You are so good to us, yet
you never think of yourself. Wait, see if we won't take care of you when
we go to Firgrove! Aunt Catharine will soon cure your cough. She's fine
for doctoring, though she _is_ so--so--"
"Don't fret about me, sonny; I'll rest plenty by-and-by, never you
fear," and with that strange smile lighting up his pale, plain face, a
smile which to look upon--only now it was too dark--made Darby feel as
if he were in church or had newly finished saying his prayers, the dwarf
watched until the little lad's heavy eyelids drooped over his tired
eyes.
Soon he would have been, like Joan, fast asleep. Bambo also was hovering
on the undefined borderland, when the sound of footsteps from the field
above the kiln caught his quick ear, and with a sudden jerk of his great
head he sat up to listen. At the same time a flare of light from a
lantern streamed over the top of the kiln, and loud, angry voices rose
upon the still night air in quarrelsome tones.
"I ain't goin' prowlin' about here no longer, Joe Harris, I tell ee,"
said Moll shrilly. "I've tramped at yer heel for the last twelve hours
a'most, till I'm ready to drop, an' now you'd keep folks from their
proper sleep all for nought!"
"Stow yer cheek, I say, or it'll be the worse for you," growled Mr.
Harris savagely. "I'm goin' to fin' them kids an' that rascally imp o' a
dwarf wherever they are, an' you're goin' to help me. They come this
way, right enough--there's no mistake about that--an' where else would
they be but here? There's not another spot they could shelter for miles
an' miles."
"Fin' 'em, then, if you can!" snapped Moll sharply. "Anyhow, I'm goin'
away to my bed like a decent Christ'an woman. Come along, Joe, do," she
urged, with a swift change of tone. "You can have another look roun' in
the mornin' if you must. But if you'd take my biddin'--only that's what
you never do--you'd let 'em go back where they come from."
"Shut up!" commanded Joe, in the same savage tone as before. "Haven't I
told you agin an' agin that I'll never let 'em escape--not if we were to
swing for't!" he added grandly. Then he went on in a wheedling sort of
way. "Here, old girl, take the lantern an' look down below there; you've
sharper sight nor me. Pullen, he says as there's a tumble-down
lime-kiln in that hollow. Bambo ud hardly hit on't; but it's best to
make sure."
Moll snatched the lantern from her lord's hand with an extremely bad
grace, and an exclamation which sounded very like "Bad luck to Pullen
an' the Traveller's Delight!" For she heartily disliked the mission upon
which they were bound--the recovery of the captives. Having had frequent
experience of her husband's furious temper and the weight of his fists,
she dared not directly refuse to aid him; but from the bottom of her
heart she hoped the two sweet innocents would never fall into his
clutches again.
"Better for them to be dead!" muttered Moll passionately, as, lantern in
hand, she nimbly slid down the shiny wet slope to the lime-kiln. "The
little lass, leastways," she added in a softer voice. And as the memory
of Joan's freely-bestowed kiss fell upon the woman's half-awakened heart
like the touch of an angel's finger, a tear trembled on her long black
lashes, and a wordless prayer winged its way through the inky darkness
of the murky sky--a prayer which in heaven was understood to indicate a
struggling soul's yearning after better things.
Straight and swift to the mouth of the kiln came Moll, the lantern
flinging its trail of light from side to side as she moved. At length
she paused opposite the opening, darted inside, looked about, and
stopped short with a smothered cry as her keen eyes discerned the little
group huddled in the far corner.
"Whish!" was all she said. Then she laid a finger on her lip, pointed
upwards, and whispered, "Joe!"
Neither Bambo nor Darby moved or spoke, and Joan slept on. They were too
frightened to do anything but stare at Moll in astonishment, wondering,
yet thankful, because she seemed disposed to be so friendly.
Moll put the lantern on the ground, fumbled for an instant in a huge
hold-all that hung beneath her skirt, whence she produced a handful of
coppers with a hunch of bread and cheese. These she silently handed to
the dwarf, who grasped her hand and murmured a fervent "God bless you,
Moll!" Then moving forward to where the sleeping child lay upon the
grass, the woman dropped on her knees beside her, bent down until her
face was on a level with the little one's, and reverently pressed her
lips to one of the small hands that were flung in a position of perfect
grace across the folds of the dwarf's worn brown jacket.
"Wait here till everything quiet," she breathed, leaning towards Bambo's
ear; "then fly for yer lives. Joe's as mad as mad! Make for the canal.
Bargee'll take ye on board if you tell him that these is the runaways
the beaks was on the hunt for. But don't split on us--leastways, not if
you can help it," added Moll, suddenly remembering how little reason she
had to expect mercy at the dwarf's hands. "An' now farewell! Don't
forget that Moll tried to do ye a good turn when she had the chance."
And giving Darby's head a rough pat, and casting another long look upon
the unconscious Joan, the woman clambered up the slope almost as quickly
as she had come down.
"Mercy me!" they heard her exclaim in accents of annoyance; "if this
bloomin' old lantern hasn't gone out! What ever'll you do, Joe?"
"Fool!" shouted Joe angrily. "Why, get it lighted agin, to be sure.
Come, hurry up. I ain't agoin' to stay here for ever."
"No more be I," answered his wife coolly. "You've burrowed enough roun'
in this direction, surely; leastways I have, an' now I'm goin' to get
some sleep. If you want that thing lighted, you can do it yerself, for I
won't. There!"
Directly after the dwarf heard her rapid steps retreating in the
direction of the hostelry, and again he blessed Moll Harris in his
heart; for he knew full well that the lantern had not been extinguished
accidentally, but by a quick-witted woman's willing fingers.