HOW DIGBY AND KATE CARRIED OUT THEIR PLOT--AN EVIL COUNSELLOR--YOUTHFUL
TRICKS AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES.
As soon as Digby and Kate could make their escape from the schoolroom
the next morning, they repaired to an attic, where all sorts of lumber
was piled up, and refuse articles of every description were collected
till some destination was assigned for them. Here they soon found what
they came to look for. There was some rope, and the lining of a black
gown, and some black silk, and a few bits of red cloth. The things were
done up tightly in bundles, and, with delighted eagerness, they hurried
off with them to the summer-house on the top of the mound. Soon after
they got there, John Pratt appeared, with a bundle of hay.
"All right, John," exclaimed Digby, "that will stuff him well. And have
you got the other things I asked you for?"
"Yes, Master Digby, but there's something I don't half likes about the
matter. It will look too horrid, I zuzpect."
"Never fear, John; it will punish the old woman properly, and be great
fun," cried Kate, eagerly. "Give me the things; we shall soon be ready;
and do you go down and keep ward and watch to give us timely notice of
any one's approach."
Thus exhorted, John produced from his capacious pockets a couple of
deer's antlers and two deer's hoofs, with the greater part of the skin
of the legs attached to them. Kate eyed them with a merry glance.
Digby did not half like to touch them, it seemed. The young lady was
evidently the leading spirit on the occasion.
"That will do, John," she said, with a nod. "Nothing could be better."
John turned slowly, and went down the mound. His mind was evidently not
quite satisfied with the work in which he was engaged. Still, he could
not bring himself to refuse any of the requests made him by Miss Kate
and Master Digby.
As soon as he had gone, Kate, who had been cutting up the black stuff,
produced some large needles, and twine, and thread. Digby held the
materials, and tied the knots as she directed him. It is surprising how
rapidly her little fingers performed the work. She first made a ball,
into which she fixed the two antlers.
"There is a capital head," she remarked. "We will work in the eyes and
mouth and nose directly."
Then she made an oblong cushion, to serve as a body, and fastened the
head to it. She next formed a pair of long arms, and made some pieces
of skin do duty for the hands and fingers, while the two hoofs were
secured to the end of the legs. With the red cloth, part of an old
hunting-coat she made a mouth, and a long tongue sticking out of it; and
then she made white eyes, with red eyeballs, and she fastened on a long
hooked nose, rapidly formed with paper and the black stuff. Some shreds
of the latter did duty as hair, and a twist of it, with a bit of red
cloth at the end, as a tail. In a very short time the young lady had
put together a very ugly little imp, which did more credit to her
ingenuity and imagination than perhaps it did to her good taste. Digby,
however, was delighted, and clapped his hands, and danced the figure
about round and round the room, with fits of uproarious laughter. It
was scarcely, however, completed in all its details when the sound of a
bell reached their ears.
"Oh, we must run in, Digby, or they will be sending to look for us,"
exclaimed Kate. "Here, we will put young Master Blackamoor away under
the table. Nobody will be strolling this way, I hope; and, as soon as
our afternoon lessons are over, we'll come back and finish him, and get
John Pratt to carry him to Mile-End for us."
Telling John Pratt to meet them again at three o'clock, they hurried
back to the Hall. Kate tried to look as grave as possible all
dinner-time, but whenever hers and Digby's eyes met, from their
ill-repressed twinkle their mother saw that there was some amusing
secret between them.
There were some guests taking luncheon at the hall. Among them was Mr
Bowdler, the newly-appointed vicar of the parish. He watched the
countenances of his young friends, and he saw that there was some joke
between them. What it was he could not tell, and did not choose to ask.
After luncheon he took his departure, and strolled through the grounds
on his way home.
They got over their lessons very quickly--indeed, Kate was never long
about hers--and off they hurried again to the mound.
"Where are you going to, children?" asked Mrs Heathcote, as they were
running out.
"To the mound, to meet John Pratt," answered Digby. "I'll take care of
Kate, that she doesn't get into mischief. We are going to have a piece
of fun, that's all."
This answer, from its very frankness, satisfied Mrs Heathcote, and away
they went to carry out their scheme. As they approached the mound
misgivings arose in their minds lest any body should have been there
during their absence; but when they reached it, they found their ugly
little imp in the position in which they had left him under the table,
and their minds were satisfied on the subject. They now gave him the
last few finishing touches, fastened on his tail, and secured a rope at
his back. When they had done this Digby insisted on having another
dance with him, and then John Pratt appeared with a large game basket.
Into this, neck and crop, they stuffed the figure and the rope, and John
carrying it, away they went laughing and chattering through the grounds
in the direction of Mile-End.
"Now, John, you are to go into Dame Marlow's cottage, and remember you
are to sit down and ask her to take the curse off you," said Kate. "She
will say that she will not, and then you are to beg and entreat her, and
to tell her that if she is so wicked that some one will be coming to
carry her off one of these days, and then that she'll have good reason
to be sorry for what she has done. Leave the rest to us; only, if you
do see anything come down the chimney, you are to run screaming away as
if you were in a dreadful fright."
"Yez, Miss Kate, I'll do as you zays. But zuppose anything real was to
appear, what should I do then?" said John, evidently repenting that he
had entered into the young people's scheme.
Kate thought a moment; Digby looked very grave; John's fears were
infecting him.
"I do not think any harm can possibly come, John," said Kate, after some
time. "You know we only want to frighten and to punish the old woman
who stole the pheasants, and tried to frighten you. There cannot be any
harm in that, surely."
"I doan't know, I doan't know, Miss," answered John, rubbing his head
very hard, as he walked on faster than before, the children having to
keep almost at a run by his side.
It was curious to see that little girl, with her bright, though just
then misdirected, intelligence managing that gaunt, venerable-looking,
but ignorant old man.
John's education had been sadly neglected in his youth. When they got
near the gravel-pits at Mile-End the party made a circuit to approach
Dame Marlow's cottage at the rear. It was a curious edifice, built down
on a low ledge of the gravel-pit, one side of which formed the back
wall, while the roof rested on the edge. The chimney was consequently
very accessible; and Digby and Kate could without difficulty reach to
the top, and look down it. John, having deposited the basket containing
the imp went round to the front of the cottage, to be ready to perform
his part of the drama. He had to descend to the bottom of the pit,
which, with the exception of a narrow causeway, which led to the
professed witch's abode, was full of water. He crossed the causeway,
and then winding up a zig-zag path, stood before the door of the
cottage. Digby and Kate got their figure ready to let down the chimney.
Though there was a fire on the hearth, it did not send forth sufficient
smoke to prevent them from looking down and hearing what was going
forward within the cottage. John knocked.
"Come in, whoever you bees," exclaimed the old woman, in a harsh
croaking voice. "Bad or good, old or young, little or big, rich or
poor, if you've anything to zay to Dame Marlow she bees ready to hear
you."
"I bees come, dame, to ask you to take the curse off me," said John,
entering and sitting down. "Your zervant, Mr Marlow."
A cough and a grunt was the only answer the old man deigned to give.
"Is that the way the wind blows? I thought az how you wouldn't wish to
make an enemy of me, John. There's zome things that can be done, and
zome that can't. Now, when I'ze once bewitched a man it's no easy
matter for me, or anyone else, to take the curse off on him: so, do you
zee, John Pratt, what I've cast at thee must stick by thee, man."
The wicked old woman thought that she had got John in her power, and had
no inclination to let him off easily.
Poor John begged and prayed that the dreaded curse might be taken off
him; but the more earnest he seemed the more inflexible she became, and
only laughed derisively at his fears. When he appealed to the old man,
a grunt or a chuckle was the only answer he received.
"Then listen to me, both on you," cried John, mustering courage, and
recollecting his lesson. "You bees a wicked old couple, and zome on
these days there will be a coming zome one who'll make you sorry you
ever cursed me, or any one else."
Scarcely had he spoken when a noise in the chimney was heard, the pot on
the fire was upset, out blew a thick puff of smoke, and, amid a shower
of soot, a hideous little black imp appeared, jumping about; while
frightful shrieks, which seemed to be uttered by him, rent the air.
John, with loud cries, jumped up, oversetting the table, and ran into
the open air. The old man, attempting to follow, tripped up and fell
sprawling on the ground; while the dame herself, catching hold of John's
coat tails, hobbled after him, exclaiming that she was a wicked old
sinner, that she had no power to curse him or anybody else, and that she
would never utter another curse as long as she lived. However, the
shrieks and hisses from the chimney continued, and at last, overcome
with terror, she fell down in a swoon.
Digby and Kate having ascertained that their device had taken the full
effect they anticipated, hauled up their figure, and packing it away in
the basket, in which operation they considerably blackened their hands
and dresses, sat down till John should join them. Getting tired of
doing nothing, they cautiously approached the edge of the gravel-pit,
when, looking over, they saw the wretched old couple still on the
ground. They were very much alarmed when they found that they did not
move, thinking perhaps they had really frightened them to death.
"Oh dear, oh dear, I wish that we hadn't done it," exclaimed Kate,
looking very miserable. "And I to have led you to help me. It was very
naughty of me, I know. I know--I know it was."
"Oh no, Kate, it wasn't all your fault; I'm sure I thought it was very
good fun," answered Digby. "Perhaps, after all, they are not dead.
I'll go and have another look." Digby approached near, stooping down,
and when he looked over he saw the dame lifting up her head and gazing
cautiously around. She did this more from instinct or habit than
because she fancied any one might be near. Digby thought that she must
have seen him. He crept back to Kate, satisfied, at all events, that
she was not dead; and John Pratt soon afterwards joining them, he
shouldered the basket, and they set off as fast as they could for the
Hall. What to do with the imp, which had played so prominent a part in
the drama, was a puzzle, till John undertook to carry it home, and burn
it.
When they got back to the Hall the state of their dresses and their
hands, which were more than usually dirty, caused some grave suspicions
in the mind of Mrs Barker, the head nurse, who had to prepare them to
come in to dessert, after dinner; and she was not long in ascertaining
from Digby what had really occurred. She thought it very wrong in John
Pratt to have assisted in such a proceeding; but he was a favourite, and
she was afraid that if she made much of the matter she should bring him
into trouble; she therefore merely gave Kate and Digby a lecture, and
they fancied that they had escaped without any further ill result from
their frolic. It happened, however, that that very evening a neighbour
of Dame Marlow's came running to the vicarage to say that the dame and
her old man were both very ill, that they had something on their
consciences, and that they wished to see the vicar and to disburden
them.
Mr Bowdler was ever at the call of any of his poor parishioners who
sent for him. Although he had but just finished his frugal dinner, and
taken his books and sat down to enjoy himself after his own fashion, in
communing in thought with great and good men. He rose from his seat,
and said he would go immediately.
It was a fine moonlight night, and so he mounted his horse and trotted
off to Mile-End. He found the old couple not nearly so ill as he
expected, but still suffering very much from fear. I need not repeat in
their own words what they said.
The dame confessed that she had done many wicked things, and that she
had tried to impress people with a belief in her supernatural powers,
though she knew that she was a weak old woman, without any power at all.
At length, however, while she was endeavouring to frighten an honest
man out of his senses, the spirit of evil had himself appeared down the
chimney, and very nearly frightened her and her husband out of theirs.
What she had sent to Mr Bowdler for was, it appeared, not so much to
say how sorry she had been, but to entreat him to exorcise the evil
spirit, so that he might not venture to come back again.
Mr Bowdler looked grave. He might have said that prayer, and
penitence, and watchfulness, were the only preventives against the
approach of the evil one. However, in the present instance, he did not
like to say this. The fact was that he had become completely
enlightened from what he had just heard as to the true state of the
case. After taking luncheon at the Hall, he had strolled, as he had
been requested to do, through the grounds. The day being very fine, and
not having been before at the Mound, he hunted about till he found his
way through the labyrinth, and then he climbed up to the summer-house to
enjoy the view which, he had been told, could be seen from it. Just as
he was leaving the building, the little imp under the table had caught
his eye. He pulled out the monster, and could scarcely help indulging
in a smile as he examined it. He doubted, however, whether he ought to
leave it there, or carry it off; but guessing from the workmanship that
young hands had formed it, and recollecting Kate and Digby's glances at
luncheon, he had little difficulty in guessing that it was the produce
of their ingenuity. Had he been less of a stranger, he would, I have no
doubt, have taken it away, or stopped and remonstrated with them on the
impropriety of making such a figure; but he was a judicious man, and he
feared that he might injure his future usefulness in the family by
appearing officious. He was a man who only placed confidence in good
principles. He believed that preaching against one sin, or one fault,
and leaving sin in general, evil dispositions unassailed, produced no
permanent effect. However, he resolved to keep his eye on his young
friends, and to speak to them when he could find a favourable
opportunity. He now at once discovered how the figure had been
employed, though he could scarcely persuade himself that Kate and Digby
alone could have carried out by themselves the drama which had evidently
been enacted. He did not mention his suspicions to the old couple, but
he strongly urged them to repent of their evil ways, and to resolve in
future to lead better lives. He assured them that neither he nor any
other mortal man had the power of exorcising evil spirits; and they were
silly old people to fancy so. As to what they had seen, he did not
choose to pronounce an opinion; but he told them that they ought to have
stopped and examined it, and that then they would probably not have been
so much frightened. He was not very well satisfied, however, with the
result of his visit.
"This is a pretty prank for these young people to play," said he to
himself, as he rode home. "It is high time that Master Digby should be
sent to school, and that Miss Kate should have a governess to look after
her. If something is not done they will be getting into some worse
scrape before long. I must try and speak to Mr Heathcote on the
matter. He appears to think that they are still babies, and never seems
to dream of the rapid development of their genius for mischief."
Not long after this, Julian Langley, who had not yet been sent to
school, was invited to spend a few weeks at the Hall. From what I have
said it may be supposed that he was not likely to do Digby any good.
Kate, from the first, could not abide him; and even John Pratt looked at
him with no little suspicion. Julian was tall for his age, with a
slight figure, fair, with light hair, and an inexpressive rather than a
bad countenance. I believe that his was one of those characters which
may be moulded without difficulty either for good or for ill, according
to the hands into which they fall. Nothing would have made Julian
Langley a very great man, or a very important member of society; but he
might have become, by proper care and culture, useful in his generation,
and religious and happy. Alas, poor fellow, how different was his lot.
He could discourse very learnedly about horses and dogs, and all
sporting matters; and of course Digby thought him a very fine fellow.
It was not long before he led Digby into a variety of scrapes.
The first Sunday after his arrival all the family went to church. The
Bloxholme pew had very high sides and curtains, and was directly in
front of the pulpit, the preacher being the only person who could look
directly down into it. Outside it, also facing the pulpit, there had,
from time immemorial, been seats for a number of poor and old people.
One of the occupants was an old man, who wore a scratch-wig; he was very
deaf, also, and as he could not hear a word the vicar said, he
invariably fell asleep during the sermon, and, as was often the case, if
he had any cold, snored loudly.
Stephen Snookes was certainly not a nice old man, and Digby and Kate had
no affection for him. People complained of his snoring; and the vicar
had more than once spoken to him about the impropriety of his conduct in
going to sleep during the sermon. Stephen promised to try and amend;
but the next Sunday invariably committed the same fault.
Julian and Digby had sat quiet during the beginning of the sermon; but
when old Snookes began to snore, they got up on their seats and looked
over down upon the head of the delinquent. As it happened, they had
heard, the evening before, a very sad, but very beautifully written
tale, read in which the unhappy hero, in the days of his boyhood, hooks
off an old man's wig in church. Undeterred by the sad fate which
ultimately befel the hero, Julian Langley was seized with a strong
inclination to imitate his example. Digby also jumped at the suggestion
made to him by his companion on their way home from church.
As soon as luncheon was over they hurried to Digby's room, where they
supplied themselves with a fish-hook and a line. Their eagerness to
accompany the Miss Heathcotes to church in the afternoon might have
created just suspicions in the minds of some of the elders of the
family, but it did not; and off they set in high good humour.
Sermon time came. Old Snookes fell asleep, his loud snoring gave notice
of the circumstance. Julian and Digby stood up, and the hook descended,
its barbs becoming entangled in the curls of the scratch-wig. The line
was then drawn tight, and the end secured to the brass rod at the top of
the pew. What was the horror of Mr Bowdler, when raising his voice, to
see old Snookes suddenly bob his head, when, in the sight of a large
part of the congregation, off flew his wig, it seemed, and up he stood,
bare-headed. Putting his hands to his bald pate, he exclaimed, "I bees
bewitched, I knows I bees! Oh, where is my wig? where is my wig?"
Even Mr Bowdler, who had observed the cause which had produced this
effect, had some difficulty in keeping his countenance, while I am sorry
to say his congregation did very little to keep theirs. He of course
felt much vexed with the conduct of the boys. The wig was drawn up
rapidly to the edge of the pew, and then it fell down again to the
ground, from which the old man picked it up, and, in his hurry, clapped
it on again hind part before.
Mr Bowdler felt that any good effects his sermon might have produced
were too likely to be obliterated, and he resolved more than ever to
advise Mr Heathcote to send Digby off to school.
Neither Digby nor Kate were aware that some time before this their
parents had come to the resolution of obtaining a governess who might
assist Mary in her studies, and take entire charge of them and Gusty.
Their mother's health had lately become much worse, and she was utterly
unfit for the task she had imposed on herself. Only the day before the
arrival of the lady they were told of the arrangements that had been
made. Neither of them had formed any favourable notions of governesses
in general, and Julian had assured them that those he had heard of would
beat and pinch them and make them sit in the stocks, and keep them in at
their lessons all day, and deprive them of their dinners. Long, indeed,
was the catalogue of the enormities governesses were supposed as a class
to commit.
"I should like to see anyone trying on those tricks with me," exclaimed
Digby, looking very fierce, "I would soon show them what I was made of!"
"Horrid old creature, I'll not attend to her," said Kate, pouting.
"I'll pretend to be as dull and stupid as a sick pig. She'll find it
very difficult to knock anything into my head, let me assure her."
"Don't you think that we could play her some tricks, just to make her
sorry she came here?" suggested Julian. "I'll show you how to make an
apple-pie bed, and we can put salt into her tumbler at dinner, and we
can pretend the cat is in the room and make a terrible fuss all
dinner-time, so that she will fancy we do not hear a word she says to
us. There's no end of things I can put you up to, if you will be guided
by me."
Of the truth of this assertion of Master Julian's there could be no
doubt, but how far they were to be guided well was a very different
question. That did not, perhaps, occur to his auditors at the time.
Kate's innate delicacy revolted from the idea of preparing an apple-pie
bed for their new governess, especially if, as she fancied, she was an
old lady, and might arrive fatigued after a long journey; but Digby
thought it would be very good fun, and undertook to assist Julian in
carrying out his proposal. While the two boys were discussing the
matter, Kate was absorbed in meditation.
"I know one thing I should like to do," she exclaimed. "I have often
thought about it. It would give her a tremendous fright, and perhaps
she would pack up her things and go off again at once."
"What is it?" exclaimed the boys in a breath, for they knew that Kate's
ideas were generally very bright; "tell us all about it."
"Then listen," said Kate. "In the long gallery at the top of the house
there are several pictures of old gentlemen and ladies, our ancestors I
believe, in full bottomed wigs and hoops, and long coats and breeches,
and swords and fans--and--that is to say, the gentlemen have some, and
the ladies the other articles I mention," she added, for she saw that
the boys were laughing.
"Well, go on," they exclaimed eagerly.
"Some of the portraits have been taken down and placed leaning against
the walls. Now though when they were hung up they appeared as large as
life, now they are on the ground the figures do not seem to so much
taller than any of us. The fancy took me as I was looking at them to
cut out the eyes, and to put mine in their stead; and I couldn't help
laughing at the idea of how frightened any one would be to see the eyes
rolling about, and to hear at the same time a groan or a sigh, as if the
portrait had all of a sudden become animated. After the idea had once
seized me, I could not rest satisfied till I had put it in part into
execution. There would have been no fun merely to put my eyes through
two holes, so after I had cut out the eyes of an old gentleman, our
great-great-great-grandfather, I believe, with a steel cuirass on his
breast, and a heavy sword in his hand, I got a looking-glass, and just
at dusk last evening, I carried it up and placed it on a chair before a
portrait of the old knight. Then I got behind the canvas, and put my
eyes at the holes and rolled them about till I caught sight of them in
the glass. I very nearly shrieked with horror--the eyes looked so
natural and bright, I quite forgot they were my own. I couldn't endure
it any longer, but had to run out of the gallery without looking up at
any of the portraits, for I could not help fancying that I should see
them all rolling their eyes round at me."
"How dreadful," said Digby, shuddering. "I wonder you could stand it,
Kate."
"Oh, I had to go up again to bring away the looking-glass, and as the
old gentlemen and ladies all looked very quiet and demure, I soon got
over my fright."
"What, then, do you want us to do?" asked Julian. "Depend on it we're
up to anything."
"I will tell you," replied Kate. "There are two big pictures I have
fixed on, I will cut out the eyes, and the nose, and the mouth of each
of them, I can easily fasten them in again with gum. You shall go up as
soon as it is dusk, and put your faces at the holes. I will then invite
the new governess, Miss Apsley, I hear is her name, to come up and
inspect our ancestors, and then you can sigh and groan, and then she is
certain to take fright; and I'll run away, and she will follow, and you
must then set up loud shrieks of horrid laughter; and my idea is, that
she will insist on going away, thinking the house is haunted, and never
wish to come near it or us again."
"Oh, glorious, grand, magnificent!" exclaimed the boys.
The terms were not very appropriate it must be owned. Little did the
elders of the family dream of the mischief the children were committing
among their ancestors in the picture gallery.
The morning came on which Miss Apsley was to arrive. John Pratt had
fixed that same morning for draining one of the ponds. This was an
operation at which very naturally the boys were anxious to be present.
There were eels innumerable, and tench and perch in the pond, that was
certain, and it was believed that there were also some giant pike, which
refused to be caught by any of the baits thrown to them. They had no
lessons to do that morning, so at an early hour they set off in high
glee at the fun they expected. Even Gusty was allowed to accompany
them, and Kate was to follow shortly. It was neither of the large ponds
which was to be drained, but still it was one of considerable size.
Even people of greater age might have been highly interested at the
prospect of seeing the long-hidden depths of the pond exposed to view.
John Pratt was in all his glory, and his attendants stood obedient to
his commands. The sluices were forced up after a good deal of
hammering, and out rushed the water in a dense rapid current, rushing
down with a loud roar through the serpentine canal into the lowest lake,
whence it found its way to the river. A net had been drawn across to
catch any of the larger fish who might be drawn in by the current, but
generally speaking the noise and unusual commotion made them seek what
they fancied would be safety in the lower depths of the pond. The water
was not allowed to run off very fast lest it should commit some
mischief, so the operation was a long one. At length, however, the
interest increased as shoals began to appear, and here and there an
astonished tench or an eel was seen struggling away through the mud to
get into the clearer liquid. The boys shouted and shrieked as they saw
them.
"Oh there's another big fellow," cried Digby; "we must have him."
"What a whopper," exclaimed Julian; "I'll bet he weighs a dozen pounds
at least."
"There goes another, there's another--there's another--oh! what a huge
eel!" were the exclamations heard on every side.
John Pratt stood calm and collected. He knew that the moment of action
had not yet arrived. Landing-nets were in readiness, and so was a flat
punt with eel-forks, or prongs; indeed, he had omitted nothing that
would enable him to capture any of the finny tribe on which he might set
his eyes. At length the wished-for moment arrived. Nearly the whole
bottom of the pond was laid bare, with the exception of a hole
sufficiently deep to float the punt, and a narrow channel leading to it.
The exposed parts of the mud were waving in every direction with the
floundering struggling fish, while innumerable eels of all sizes were
wriggling about and seeking for shelter. Just then Kate came down,
almost breathless, to the pond. The boys had leaped into the punt with
John Pratt, and were shoving off. Their jackets, and shoes, and hats,
indeed, everything but their shirts and trousers, had been thrown aside,
in imitation of John and the men who were assisting. They pushed back,
yielding to her petitions to take her in. The punt was very narrow,
John Pratt was tall, they were all very eager. The fish swarmed around
them; some they took up with the landing-nets, the big eels John forked
with his prong, the tench and perch they caught with their hands; the
other men were wading about with landing-nets, putting the fish into
buckets, to transfer them alive to another pond while this was being
cleansed. The water still kept running off, and more and more fish
appeared. The boys and Kate shrieked again and again with delight.
Their eagerness increased. John was aiming his prong at a large eel,
the young party all leaned over on the same side, not seeing that the
other edge of the punt was on the mud. The bottom was slippery with the
slime of the tench and eels, John's foot slid away--in an instant over
went the punt, and let them all out into the water and mud. At first
Kate was frightened and shrieked, and Digby was alarmed on account of
her and little Gusty, but he only laughed, and they soon found that
there was very little water there, and that the bottom was hard, and so
they thought it very good fun, and refused to get into the punt again.
Away they went, floundering about in chase of the fish, covered from
head to feet with mud, but thinking it very good fun. Digby's fear was
lest some big pike should catch hold of Gusty. He himself had a
desperate tussle with a big fellow, which would have got away, or,
perhaps, bit him, had not John Pratt come to his assistance. Certainly
very curious figures were the four children, and no one would have
supposed that they were the descendants of long lines of well-born,
proud ancestors.
Scarcely had Kate left the house, when the expectant governess, Miss
Apsley, arrived. After she had taken luncheon, as she was not tired
with her journey, Mrs Heathcote invited her to take a stroll through
the grounds to the ponds.
"We shall find the children there, and you will be able to observe them
without being remarked," said Mrs Heathcote. "I hope that you will
think well of them, for they are, I believe, as well-behaved, tractable
children as any in the county. Digby is a dear good boy, and Kate is a
clever little thing, though slightly hoydenish I own, but every one may
see at a glance that she is a perfect little lady as Digby is a
gentleman. You will find no difficulty in managing them."
Mrs Heathcote spoke with the pardonable pride of a mother. She was
much pleased with the new governess, and wished to impress her with a
favourable opinion of her children.
Miss Apsley, who was a very sensible, ladylike, right-minded person,
thought that she should like Mrs Heathcote, and was congratulating
herself on having such nice well-behaved little children placed under
her charge. Engaged in pleasant conversation the two ladies drew near
the ponds. Shouts and shrieks reached their ears, and expressions
anything but refined, which Mrs Heathcote fancied must be uttered by
some groom boys, or young gipsies, were heard. When they got in sight
of the pond they both stood aghast. There were the children, on whom
their mother had just been passing so warm an eulogium, covered from
head to foot with black mud, shouting and bawling as they ran after the
fish--the refined little ladylike Kate being in no better condition than
her brothers, while Julian Langley, having in his eagerness thrown off
all restraint, was shouting and swearing, and using expressions which
would disgrace the lips of any but the most ignorant heathens.
Poor Mrs Heathcote was horrified. For some time so eager were the
children that they did not perceive her. Kate was the first to see her
mother and the strange lady, as she was chasing a big eel close up to
where they were standing.
"Oh, mamma, the punt upset and we tumbled in and got all muddy, and so I
thought that it was a pity to come out, and it is such fun," she
exclaimed, making a grab at the eel, and not thinking it at all
necessary to appear ashamed of herself.
She probably was not aware of the very odd figure she, appeared. Miss
Apsley smiled, but said nothing.
Poor little Gusty next came up, with his pockets full of the smaller
fish he had managed to catch hold of. Digby was too much engaged to see
anything but the fish he was chasing. Away he went, as indifferent to
the dirt as any mud-larker on the banks of the Thames, floundering away
after the fish, and throwing them as he caught them into the pails and
baskets prepared for their reception.
"They seem to enjoy the amusement," observed Miss Apsley at length; "I
hope they will not catch cold."
Mrs Heathcote was pleased that she did not speak in a satirical tone.
She thought, however, that it was high time that the amusement should
come to an end, so she desired Kate and Gusty to come out of the pond,
and directed John Pratt, who at length caught sight of his mistress, to
tell the other boys that she wanted them. John could not help feeling
that the young people who had been entrusted to his charge were not in a
very presentable condition, so he thought that he ought to make the best
apology in his power.
"They bees very like young frogs, I does own, Mrs Heathcote, marm,"
said he; "but they does take to it so kindly loike, I couldn't find it
in my heart to prevent them."
I feel that I cannot do justice to worthy John's peculiar provincial
phraseology. Mrs Heathcote smiled. She did not think that John had
paid her children any very great compliment. At last Digby and Julian
came forth from the mud, without a single white spot about them--hands
and face, and hair and clothes, all covered with mud. They were not at
all pleased at being told to go into the house to be cleansed, for they
were not nearly tired of their sport, but Mrs Heathcote was afraid of
Digby's catching cold, and was firm, though they pleaded hard to be
allowed to remain.
"There mamma, there, see that huge pike," exclaimed Digby, about to dart
back again; "he's one of the giant fellows we have been looking for all
along, and thought he must have got out somewhere. I wonder you don't
feel inclined to jump in after him. There, they've caught him; he must
be thirty pounds weight."
Mrs Heathcote fairly laughed at the idea of her rushing into the mud in
chase of a pike, but still Digby had to accompany her home. Whatever
might have been his other delinquencies, he never had disobeyed her
expressed wishes, for he loved her dearly. He and Julian, however, as
they followed a little way behind, looked at the strange lady and
thought that she had, in some way or other, something to do with their
being called in. She was so ladylike and young, and nice-looking, and
so different from what they had fancied the new governess was to be,
that they never suspected that she was the awful and dreaded Miss
Apsley.
Great was the dismay of Mrs Barker when the mud-besprinkled, or rather
mud-covered children, made their appearance. Mrs Carter was summoned
to give her assistance, and much soap and many tubs of hot-water were
used before they were at all in their usual presentable condition. They
scolded them much more severely than their mother had done. Poor little
Gusty cried, and could not help fancying that he had been very naughty.
When also Digby and Kate found that the lady with their mother was the
new governess, and that it was owing to her arrival that they had been
compelled to come in thus early, their hearts, in spite of her kind
manner and nice looks, hardened towards her, and, instigated by Julian,
they resolved to put into execution the plan which Kate had concocted.
Mr Heathcote dined out that day, so the parlour dinner was soon over.
Mrs Heathcote was fatigued, so lay down on the sofa and fell asleep.
The boys had disappeared. The summer evening was drawing to a close.
Now or never was the time. Kate had scarcely seen Miss Apsley.
"Will you come and look over the old house," she said, at length, in a
voice which trembled somewhat.
It was late, and getting dusk, but Miss Apsley was glad of an
opportunity of having some conversation with her rather silent pupil,
and consented readily.
Kate really was very much agitated, and repented of her undertaking
before even she reached the picture gallery. She hurried through the
other rooms; she felt that she was acting a treacherous part; she tried
to talk, but her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth; still there was
so much determination, or obstinacy some would have called it, in her
composition, that she would not turn aside from her resolution. Miss
Apsley guessed that there was something or other on her young friend's
mind, but made no remark. The gallery was reached. It was a long,
wide, and high passage in the centre of the house, lighted at both ends
and partially from the top. The portraits reached to the very roof, and
looked very grim and dark--very few of them deserved much commendation
as works of art. The gallery Kate thought looked more gloomy than ever;
she could scarcely bring herself to utter a word.
"Come to the other end, marm," at last she said in a faltering voice.
She could scarcely help running away and screaming even before she got
to the portraits whose faces she had so ill-treated. She got up to
them; she dared not look at them; she was certain that the eyes were
rolling horribly. Miss Apsley walked calmly on. Kate thought that she
saw the governess look first on one side, then on the other, but she was
not certain. They reached the end of the gallery; there was a fine view
from the window; the rich glow of that fine summer evening still
lingered in the sky. Miss Apsley seemed to enjoy it very much, as she
stood contemplating it for some time, till hill, and wood, and fields
became so blended as to be scarcely distinguishable.
"We will now return to the drawing-room, Kate, if you please," she said
quietly.
Kate followed her. Again they reached the two portraits on the floor;
there was a groan on one side, and what was meant for a sigh on the
other. Kate was really frightened, and rushed off shrieking.
"Stop, stop, Kate, my dear, there is nothing to be alarmed about," said
Miss Apsley, in a calm voice. "Come back and see."
As she spoke she caught hold of the nose of one of the portraits, which
squeaked out "Oh, oh, oh!" Kate's fancy was tickled, and she burst into
a fit of laughter; her admiration, also, was much excited for her new
governess. Digby came forth from behind the other portrait; Julian,
whose nose had been caught literally in his own trap, drew it back as he
did his tongue, which he had protruded as far as he could, and also came
out looking very sheepish, without a word to say for himself.
Digby, however, in a manly way, at once said--"I beg pardon, Miss
Apsley, I thought that we were going to play you a good trick, which
would have frightened you very much; but I am glad it did not, and I am
sure we are very sorry, and I hope you will forgive us."
Miss Apsley's calmness had won Digby's admiration even in a greater
degree than it had Kate's.
"Yes, indeed I will," she replied, pleased at his frankness. "It was
silly and wrong in you, and the consequences might, in some instances,
have been serious. I am bound to tell you this that I may warn you
against playing such tricks in future; but as far as I am individually
concerned I most heartily forgive you, and will entirely overlook the
matter."
Julian could not understand these sentiments, and thought Digby a very
silly fellow to make what he called an unnecessary apology. They all
went downstairs together, and then Kate took the governess to her room,
and confessed that she had herself concocted the scheme which had so
signally failed, and told her, indeed, all I have already described
about the matter. With eager haste she undid, too, the apple-pie bed
which Digby and Julian had made, and assuring her how different a person
she was to what she expected, promised that she would never again
attempt to play her another trick, and that she would be answerable that
Digby would not either.
"Why did you come out and show yourself, Digby?" said Julian, when they
were alone together. "I don't understand your way of doing things; if
you had groaned, as it was arranged, when that Miss Apsley and Kate
first appeared, we should have put her to flight, and I should not have
had my nose pulled--she knows how to pinch hard let me tell you."
Digby confessed that she really was so nice a person that he did not
like to frighten her, and that had he not undertaken to groan, he could
not have brought himself to do so at all.
Julian only sneered at this, and said no more on the subject.
It was most unfortunate for Digby that he had at that time so evil a
counsellor as Julian to turn him aside from the right course, in which
Miss Apsley was so anxious and so well able to direct him. Often and
often have boys been warned to avoid bad companions. Let me assure my
readers, that they are the emissaries of the evil one, and that their
vocation is to destroy, both in body and soul, all who come under their
influence.