MISCHIEF
"When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war."
The celebrated Dr. Johnson is said to have advocated the theory, "When
you meet a boy, beat him! For either he has been in mischief, or he is
at present in mischief, or he is about to get into mischief!" In the
case of the two younger Winstanley boys, I fear this axiom was only too
true, since they sometimes allowed their love of fun to lead them into
rather questionable undertakings, and I do not think their neighbours
altogether appreciated the many jokes and escapades with which they
sought to enliven the holidays.
There resided in the village High Street a certain elderly bachelor, a
retired sea-captain, of somewhat autocratic manners and a very great
idea of his own importance. Dick and George had once ventured into his
garden in quest of a runaway puppy, and had been met with such a storm
of wrath from the fiery old gentleman, who threatened to prosecute them
for trespassing, that they had carried on a kind of feud with him ever
since. On the captain's side, I have no doubt, there were many
reasonable grounds of complaint, but the boys, on the other hand,
considered themselves to have just cause of grievance. Their enemy had
been seen deliberately to wipe off the treacling mixture which they had
smeared upon the trees to attract moths, though the said trees were
situated on the public highway, and not on his private property; he had
put an impassable fence of barbed wire round the particular field where
specimens of the Clifden Blue might occasionally be captured, and he had
clipped his brambly hedge, allowing the prickles purposely to fall and
remain in the cinder-path below, though he knew it was the short cut by
which they bicycled from Marshlands to the railway-station.
"Hoped we should puncture our tyres, no doubt!" said Dick indignantly.
"By sheer good luck I saw them in time, and we carried our machines the
whole length of the lane. But it was a sneaking trick to play, and we'll
be even with him. We owe him a good long score now, and I have it in my
mind to just jolly well pay him out."
Needless to say, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Winstanley were aware of these
fell designs against old Captain Vernon, with whom they had always
managed to keep on excellent terms of neighbourly good-will, and,
knowing full well that their schemes would be promptly forbidden if they
ventured to divulge them, the boys seized the opportunity when "the
mater" and "the governor" were out at a dinner-party to carry into
execution their plan of revenge.
Edward declined altogether to be a party to the deed.
"Beastly bad form, I call it!" he yawned. "You don't catch me leaving a
decent arm-chair to go ragging an antiquated old fossil of a
sea-captain. As for you two girls, I suppose you can do as you like, but
don't let the mater catch you at it, that's all!"
And, stretching out his long legs on a second chair, he took up a copy
of Punch, and resigned himself to ease and comfort.
"That's all jolly well for the fifth form," said Dick, "but it's a
little too good for us chaps. We're off now, and if Cathy and Phil like
to join the show, they can, and if they don't, they may stop at home and
hem dusters."
It was extremely naughty of us, but we wanted so much to see what
happened; so we thought if we followed the boys at a discreet distance
we should not be exactly aiding and abetting, and yet we should come in
for a full share of all that went on.
It was a dark evening, with only a fitful gleam from a watery moon which
occasionally showed itself behind the driving clouds, and the unlighted
village street seemed quiet and deserted.
The captain lived in the end house of an old-fashioned red-brick
terrace. Though he had a good garden at the side and back, his
front-door and the bow-window of his dining-room were flush with the
road, and by flattening our noses against the glass, we were able to
peep through a crevice in the red curtains and watch him, as he sat in a
particularly easy arm-chair, with a cigar between his lips and a
newspaper in his hand.
"Looks much too comfortable!" muttered Dick. "Just wait till I'm ready
and we'll make him sit up!"
He had been cautiously fastening a piece of cobblers' wax to the centre
of the window-frame. This wax had a hole in it, through which a long
piece of string was threaded, having a button at the end, and it was so
arranged that the button should hang down over the glass, while Dick,
standing under cover of the trees on the opposite side of the road, held
the other end of the string in his hand.
"Are you well out of sight?" he whispered. "Don't give the thing away by
flapping your skirts about and giggling. Now! Mum's the word, and you'll
see some sport!"
He pulled the string, and the button tapped smartly upon the window. It
evidently had some effect, for the red curtains were drawn aside, and
the captain peered out enquiringly into the darkness.
"Unearthed!" whispered George, but Dick gave him a severe pinch for
silence, and pulled the cord again. "Rap! Tap!" sounded the button on
the pane. This time our foe threw open the sash, and, thrusting out his
head, glanced up and down the street, muttering something we could not
catch. We could see him very plainly, his red face and long white
whiskers outlined against the lamp-light of the room behind, and we
could hear his peculiar husky wheeze as he fumbled with the curtain, and
thrust aside a small table which stood in his way.
"I hope he won't catch cold!" I whispered to Cathy, feeling just a
little compunction when I heard the old man's cough. Perhaps she did,
too, for she squeezed my hand; but we were in for it now, as we did not
dare to move an inch for fear of betraying the boys.
Not finding anybody outside, the captain evidently thought he must be
mistaken. He closed the window again, carefully drew the red curtains,
and no doubt returned once more to the enjoyment of his paper and his
cigar. Loosing his string, Dick crept across the road, and, giving a
sudden sharp bang on the window-frame, he at the same moment dropped a
number of pieces of glass which he had brought with him, and which fell
on the pavement with a resounding crash. Thinking, no doubt, that his
panes were smashed to atoms, Captain Vernon appeared again, in great
wrath and utter mystification when he found that after all no visible
damage had been done. He opened the front door this time, and came a few
steps into the street, narrowly missing Dick, who had rushed back to his
point of vantage opposite. He picked up a piece of the broken glass,
examined it by the aid of his hall lamp, peered up and down once more
into the darkness, and finally went in, slamming the door after him.
"It's my turn now," whispered George. "Just watch me bait the badger!"
"Haven't you done enough?" whispered Cathy. "It seems rather too bad,
and the poor old man is getting so cross!"
"Oh, do stop, George!" I implored. "I know you'll be caught!"
"We're not half quits yet," returned George grimly. "You girls always
want to spoil things by hanging back. I wish we had left you at home
with Edward. Keep quiet now you're here, at any rate."
He had a coil of rope with him, and, moving with extreme caution, he
fastened one end of it to the captain's door-handle, and the other end
to the door-handle of the next house, which was only a few feet lower
down the street. Then, seizing the knockers, he beat a terrific tattoo
on both doors and fled. He had hardly gained our sheltering trees before
the captain appeared on the threshold, uttering some very
uncomplimentary remarks, varied by perfect explosions of coughing. As
the rope had been allowed to hang rather loosely, he was just able to
open his door, but at that identical instant his neighbour also desired
to investigate matters, with the effect that no sooner did he open _his_
door, than it drew the rope so tightly that the captain's door was
banged to with great violence. In a fury of rage he pulled it open
again, which had the result of shutting his neighbour's, and for a few
moments the two doors opened and closed as if they were worked by a
wire. It really looked very funny, and in spite of our guilty
consciences we nearly choked ourselves with trying to laugh noiselessly.
I think a faint giggle must have escaped us, or perhaps the victims of
our practical joke suspected that somebody was trying to play a trick
upon them, at any rate both doors were hastily slammed hard, and all was
silence.
"Good old Babe!" whispered Dick, when he had recovered his breath. "Your
dodge went even better than mine! But I say, we can't leave our
apparatus over there! We must manage to fetch it somehow!"
They slipped across the road again, Dick to remove his lump of bees'-wax
and the button, and George to untie the rope; but they had counted
without their host. The captain had evidently scented the plot, and was
waiting for them, for from the bedroom casement above descended a
perfect deluge of water, as though the whole contents of a bath had been
suddenly emptied on to the pavement below. Almost blinded for the
moment, and drenched to the skin, the boys beat a gasping retreat, while
such extraordinary sounds of mixed chuckling and coughing proceeded from
the open window, as to lead us to suppose that the old man was exulting
in his triumph.
We kept this adventure a dead secret. Cathy and I felt rather ashamed of
ourselves, and, as Edward had hinted, we knew Mrs. Winstanley would have
been greatly annoyed if she had discovered that we had made use of her
absence to play such very questionable pranks, especially in the
village, where we might so easily have been seen and recognized. Whether
the captain suspected us, we could not tell; if he did, he said nothing
to the squire, probably thinking that on the whole he had had the best
of it, and that as he could not prove us to be the culprits, it was
wiser not to push his advantage too far.
The next event in the feud was really a very innocent one on our part.
Even the boys on this occasion were quite guiltless of any evil intent,
and I think the fault lay with the old captain's hot temper. It was a
most lovely September afternoon, and we decided that nothing would be
nicer than to take our kettle and tea-things, and after a ramble round
in search of blackberries, to picnic in any suitable spot where we
might happen to find ourselves when the pangs of hunger assailed us.
"Always allowing that George doesn't insist upon getting hungry before
four o'clock!" said Cathy. "He'll have to wait if he does. And don't let
him carry that basket, or you'll find the cake half gone! You take it,
Philippa dear, and give him the kettle instead."
"Fibs!" said George. "I wouldn't touch the tuck. I'll carry them both if
you like, and Cathy's satchel as well. Here, sling it over my back! Now
I call this returning good for evil, Madame Catherine, when you've just
been slanging me so hard!"
"Poor old Babe!" said Cathy soothingly. "You see, when people earn a bad
name, it is apt to stick. But to console you, we'll let you choose where
we shall go this afternoon; only make up your mind quickly, for we are
all ready and waiting."
"All right!" said George promptly. "Up the common, and round by the
oak-wood; there's a stream there where we can get water for the kettle,
and I know a place to camp in that's just A1."
We set off without further delay, and scrambled up the hill-side on to
the heathery common, where the blackberries were already ripening fast
on the low brambles. It took a considerable time to fill the large
milk-can which we had brought for the purpose, although there were four
pairs of hands hard at work; and I don't really think a very great many
had gone into our mouths, in spite of the suspicious stains round
George's lips.
"Hullo, it's after half-past three!" cried Dick at last, looking at his
watch. "If we want to get to the oak-wood, and then light a fire and
boil the kettle, it will take us all our time to get tea by four
o'clock, I can tell you!"
So, mounting the stile into the lane, we set off in the other direction
down the hill, and by climbing a steep wall found ourselves at last in a
pretty little wood, carpeted with soft green grass, and with a clear
stream running through the midst.
"Here's the place!" said George, pointing to a kind of natural arbour,
formed partly by the bank, and partly by the roots of a huge oak-tree,
the branches of which stretched far overhead, and made a green roof with
their interlacing leaves. "I found it out once when I came here alone,
and I put these logs inside for seats. It makes a ripping summer-house,
and I made up my mind we would have tea here some day. Well, what do
you say to it?"
We were all enthusiastic in our approval, and Cathy and I set to work at
once to lay out the tea, while the boys collected sticks for the fire,
and filled the kettle at the brook. The thought that we were trespassing
never entered into our heads. The Winstanleys knew all the farmers and
the land-owners about Everton, and were accustomed to go where they
pleased without thinking of asking leave. Being country bred they could
be trusted not to trample on springing crops, disturb young pheasants,
or in any way do injury to other people's property. We were quite
unaware, also, that the plantation belonged to old Captain Vernon (I am
not sure whether the knowledge would not have added a zest to our
enjoyment!); and though we knew he owned a considerable amount of land
in the district, we imagined this particular wood to be part of the
preserve of a neighbouring squire, with whom the boys were on very
friendly terms, and who had often taken them for a day's grouse-shooting
on the moors. Cathy and I arranged the tea-cups most artistically,
laying flowers and fronds of fern between them, with the cakes and the
bread-and-butter piled up in graceful pyramids in the centre. It looked
very tempting, and we all waited with some impatience for the kettle to
boil; but it was a case of the watched pot, for the sticks being rather
damp, the fire gave out more smoke than heat, in spite of Dick's
desperate efforts to fan it with a piece of newspaper.
"I'll fetch some bracken. They've been cutting it lower down," he
declared. "That'll be dry enough at any rate, and ought to help it a
little. Get up, George, you lazy-bones, and bestir yourself, or we
sha'n't have any tea to-night!"
The boys were not long in bringing back a large pile of withered ferns,
and stoked the fire to such good purpose that the kettle was soon
boiling briskly. Cathy had the tea ready in the pot, and Dick was in the
very act of pouring in the water, when we suddenly heard a tremendous
crashing a little higher up in the wood, and whom should we see bearing
down furiously upon us, his red face redder than ever with rage, and his
long white whiskers waving in the wind, but--the captain, followed by
his equally crusty old gardener!
"What are you doing here, you young scoundrels?" he roared, flourishing
his riding-whip as he ran, and interspersing his words with gusts of
coughing. "I'll teach you to trespass on my property! Burning my wood
and spoiling my grass! Boys or girls, you're one as bad as another, and
I'll spare none of you! Come on, Johnson, we'll give them a lesson!"
Whether he would actually have done so, or whether he only meant to
frighten us, I cannot tell; but he did not get the opportunity, for,
dropping the kettle, Dick seized my hand, and dragged me down the hill
at such a breakneck speed that I could scarcely keep on my feet, while
George and Cathy raced behind as if they were possessed of seven-leagued
boots. With the old captain's angry shouts ringing in our ears, we
scrambled somehow over the fence at the bottom of the wood, and never
stopped running till we were quite a long way up the high-road, and
within a safe distance of Marshlands again.
[Illustration: "DICK SEIZED MY HAND AND DRAGGED ME DOWN THE HILL"]
"Of course we weren't in the very least in a funk for ourselves,"
explained Dick afterwards. "If it had only been the Babe and myself,
we'd have stayed and tackled them both, and enjoyed the fun, but I
thought the old madman was going for you girls, and the best thing to do
was to clear out of his way as quick as we could. Is he gorging on our
tea and cakes, I wonder? It would be like his cheek. Perhaps he'll annex
the tea-cups, too, while he's about it."
But the captain was honest as regarded our property. That same evening
the old gardener arrived at the back-door, and with an imperturbable
countenance handed our baskets to the astonished cook, stalking away
without uttering a word, in spite of the many questions she hurled at
his head.
After this the boys declared it was war to the knife. They had not
intended to do any harm in the wood, and therefore, they argued, the
captain's action was quite unjustifiable; and as he had shown intentions
of not confining the use of his riding-whip to his own sex, he had
forfeited all claim to be treated as a gentleman, and his conduct must
be repaid with interest.
This time they did not take Cathy and me into their confidence
beforehand, though from various dark hints we imagined they must have
some scheme of revenge brewing in their minds.
They came home one evening brimming over with satisfaction.
"Done him at last!" chuckled Dick. "It was the Babe's idea, too, not
mine, so I won't take the credit of it. You know the old duffer has a
gorgeous pear-tree at the end of his garden; well, we just stood in the
lane outside with our catapults, and shot pellets into the pears as hard
as we could go. We've been wiring into them all the afternoon. Fancy
they'll taste a little gritty when he comes to eat them! Too bad? Not at
all! Serves the old beggar right!"
Cathy and I, however, felt somewhat uneasy, thinking the boys had gone
rather too far.
"If the captain finds out who has done it," said Cathy, "and complains
to Father, they'll get into the most dreadful row. He can be terribly
angry over some of their scrapes."
We waited rather anxiously for further developments, and they were not
long in coming. On the very next day a large basket of pears was
delivered at Marshlands by the old gardener, "with Captain Vernon's
compliments".
"How very kind of him!" said unsuspecting Mrs. Winstanley. "He has never
sent us a present before. They are finer than anything we have been
able to grow for ourselves."
The pears were brought in at dessert, and remarkably ripe and luscious
they appeared. I thought the boys looked a little conscious when they
saw them placed upon the table, but they hid their feelings under a mask
of would-be unconcern.
"These are some of Captain Vernon's pears, my dear," said Mrs.
Winstanley, passing the dish to the squire. "He sent such a polite
message, saying he thought we should like to taste them."
"They must be his early Bergamots," said Mr. Winstanley, choosing a
particularly fine one, and slicing it. "I know he's very proud of them,
and boasts that he can beat all the gardens round. Hullo! What's this?
It looks as if the pear were riddled with shot!"
"Perhaps they're the seeds, they often look black when they're ripe!"
suggested George hastily. He and Dick were eating apples, and Cathy and
I had also declined the offered delicacy.
"Seeds! You don't find pips made of lead! I tell you they're pellets,
though how they came inside the pear, I can't imagine. Hand me the dish,
and I'll try another."
The next was in like condition, and Mrs. Winstanley's and Edward's
plates told the same story.
"There's something queer about this!" said the squire, cutting into his
third pear. Then, suddenly catching sight of the air of elaborate
nonchalance which the boys were rather overdoing, "You young rascals!"
he roared. "I verily believe this is your handiwork!"
I will draw a veil over the explanations which followed. To Dick and
George they proved extremely unpleasant, as Mr. Winstanley was really
angry. He had little patience with practical jokes, and especially
disliked to give any cause of offence to his neighbours, so he insisted
upon marching both the boys off then and there to make their apologies
to Captain Vernon.
"And if he likes to horse-whip you, he may do so," he declared. "And
I'll stand by and watch it done, and say you deserve it for a couple of
mischievous young jackanapes!"
To the great surprise of all concerned, however, the old captain "turned
up trumps". Bursting into a roar of laughter, he declared he had had the
best of the joke, shook the boys warmly by the hand, and proclaimed an
amnesty. He even did more. Next day he sent us a beautiful basketful of
his best wall-apricots as a peace-offering, and permission to pick
blackberries in his fields if we chose.
"It's ever so decent of the old chap," said George. "We certainly did
rag him rather hard. But I've promised to catch the moles in his
garden--I'm a capital hand at setting mole-traps--and he says if I like
to come and scare the birds from his autumn peas, he'll lend me an
air-gun, and I can blaze away all day if I want."
It was a very satisfactory conclusion to the feud, and I think the boys
were glad it had ended thus; for by the next holidays the poor old
captain's cough no longer resounded through the village, his garden knew
him no more, and other and younger faces looked out from his
red-curtained windows.