The Surprising Adventures of Sir Toady Lion with Those of General Napoleon Smith
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CHAPTER VI.
FIRST BLOOD.
Ten minutes later, and without, as Jane Sheepshanks said, "so muckleas a sponge or a brush-and-comb being laid upon them," the three stoodbefore their father. Silently Janet had introduced them, and now assilently she stood aside to listen to the evidence--and, as sheput it, "keep the maister to his duty, and mind him o' hisresponsibilities to them that's gane."
Janet Sheepshanks never forgot that she had been maid for twenty yearsto the dead mother of the children, nor that she had received "thebits o' weans" at her hand as a dying charge. She considered herself,with some reason, to be the direct representative of the missingparent, and referred to Priscilla, Toady Lion, and Hugh John as "mybairns," just as, in moments of affection, she would still speak tothem of "my bonnie lassie your mither," as if the dead woman werestill one of her flock.
For a full minute Mr. Picton Smith gazed speechless at the spectaclebefore him. He had been writing something that crinkled his brow andcompressed his lips, and at the patter of the children's feet in thepassage outside his door, as they ceremoniously marshalled themselvesto enter, he had turned about on his great office chair with a smileof expectation and anticipation. The door opened, and JanetSheepshanks pushed in first Sir Toady Lion, still voluble and callingfor vengeance on the "bad, bad boys at the castle that had striked himand hurted his dear Prissy." Priscilla herself stood white-lipped anddumb, and through the awful silence pulsed the dry, recurrent, sobbingcatch in the throat of Hugh John.
Mr. Picton Smith was a stern man, whose great loss had caused him toshut up the springs of his tenderness from the world. But they flowedthe sweeter and the rarer underneath; and though his grave anddignified manner daunted his children on the occasion of any notableevil-doing, they had no reason to be afraid of him.
"Well, what is the meaning of this?" he said, his face falling into agreyer and graver silence at the sound of Hugh John's sobs, andturning to Priscilla for explanation.
Meanwhile Sir Toady Lion was pursuing the subject with his usualshrill alacrity.
"Be quiet, sir," said his father. "I will hear you all one by one, butlet Priscilla begin--she is the eldest."
"We went to the castle after dinner, over by the stepping-stones,"began Priscilla, fingering nervously the frill of the torn pinaforeabout her throat, "and when we got to the castle we found out that ourpet lamb Donald had come after us by the ford; and he was goingeverywhere about the castle, trying to rub his bell off his neck onthe gate-posts and on the stones at the corners."
"Yes, and I stooded on a rock, and Donald he butted me over behind!"came the voice of Sir Toady Lion in shrill explanation of his personalshare in the adventure.
"And then we played on the grass in the inside of the castle. ToadyLion and I were plaiting daisy-chains and garlands for Donald, andHugh John was playing at being the Prisoner of Chillyon: he had tiedhimself to the gate-post with a rope."
"'Twasn't," muttered Hugh John, who was a stickler for accuracy; "itwas a plough-chain!"
"And it rattled," added Sir Toady Lion, not to be out of the running.
"And just when we were playing nicely, a lot of horrid boys from thetown came swarming and clambering in. They had run over the bridge andclimbed the gate, and then they began calling us names and throwingmud. So Hugh John said he would tell on them."
"Didn't," interrupted Hugh John indignantly. "I said I'd knock theheads off them if they didn't stop and get out; and they only laughedand said things about father. So I hit one of them with a stone."
"Then," continued Priscilla, gaining confidence from a certain curiousspark of light which began to burn steadily in her father's eyes,"after Hugh John threw the stone, the horrid boys all came and saidthat they would kill us, and that we had no business there anyway."
"They frowed me down the well, and I went splass! Yes, indeedy!"interrupted Toady Lion, who had imagination.
"Then Donald, our black pet lamb, that is, came into the court, andthey all ran away after him and caught him. First he knocked down oneor two of them, and then they put a rope round his neck and began totake rides on his back."
"Yes, and he bleated and 'kye-kyed' just feeful!" whimpered ToadyLion, beginning to weep all over again at the remembrance.
But the Smith of the imperial race only clenched his torn hands andlooked at his bruised knuckles.
"So Hugh John said he would kill them if they did not let Donald go,and that he was a soldier. But they only laughed louder, and one ofthem struck him across the lip with a stick--I know him, he's thebutch----"
"Shut up, Pris!" shouted Hugh John, with sudden fierceness, "it'sdasht-mean to tell names."
"Be quiet, sir," said his father severely; "let your sister finish herstory in her own way."
But for all that there was a look of some pride on his face. At thatmoment Mr. Picton Smith was not sorry to have Hugh John for a son.
"Well," said Priscilla, who had no such scruples as to telling on herenemies, "I won't tell if you say not. But that was the boy who hurtDonald the worst."
"Well, I smashed him for that!" muttered Napoleon Smith.
"And then when Hugh John saw them dragging Donald away and heard himbleating----"
"And 'kye-kying' big, big tears, big as cherries!" interjected ToadyLion, who considered every narrative incomplete to which he did notcontribute.
"He was overcome with rage and anger"--at this point Priscilla beganto talk by the book, the dignity of the epic tale working on her--"andhe rushed upon them fearlessly, though they were ten to one; and theyall struck him and kicked him. But Hugh John fought like a lion."
"Yes, like Wichard Toady Lion," cried the namesake of that hero, "andI helpted him and bited a bad boy on the leg, and didn't let go thoughhe kicked and hurted feeful! Yes, indeedy!"
"And I went to their assistance and fought as Hugh John showed me.And--I forget the rest," said Priscilla, her epic style suddenlyfailing her. Also she felt she must begin to cry very soon, now thestrain was over. So she made haste to finish. "But it was dreadful,and they swore, and said they would cut Donald's throat. And one boytook out a great knife and said he knew how to do it. He was thebutch----"
"Shut up, Pris! Now don't you dare!" shouted Hugh John, in his mostwarning tones.
"And when Hugh John rushed in to stop him, he hit him over the headwith a stick, and Hugh John fell down. And, oh! I thought he was dead,and I didn't know what to do" (Priscilla was crying in good earnestnow); "and I ran to him and tried to lift him up. But I could not--hewas so wobbly and soft."
"I bited the boy's leg. It was dood. I bited hard!" interrupted ToadyLion, whose mission had been vengeance.
"And when I looked up again they had taken away p-p-poor Donald,"Priscilla went on spasmodically between her tears, "and I think theykilled him because he belonged to you, and--they said he had nobusiness there! Oh, they were such horrid cruel boys, and much biggerthan us. And I can't bear that Don should have his throat cut. I waspromised that he should never be sold for mutton, but only clipped forwool. And he had such a pretty throat to hang daisy-chains on, and wassuch a dear, dear thing."
"I don't think they would dare to kill him," said Mr. Smith gravely;"besides, they could not lift him over the gate. I will send at onceand see. In fact I will go myself!"
There was only anger against the enemy now, and no thought ofchastisement of his own in the heart of Mr. Picton Smith. He wasrising to reach out his hand to his riding-whip, when General NapoleonSmith, who, like most great makers of history, had taken little partin the telling of it, created a diversion which put all thought ofimmediate action out of his father's head. He had been standing up,shoulders squared, arms dressed to his side, head erect, as he hadseen Sergeant Steel do when he spoke to his Colonel. Once or twice hehad swayed slightly, but the heart of the Buonapartes, which beatbravely in his bosom, brought him up again all standing. Neverthelesshe grew even whiter and whiter, till, all in a moment, he gave alittle lurch forward, checked himself, and again
looked straightbefore him. Then he sobbed out once suddenly and helplessly, said "Icouldn't help getting beaten, father--there were too many of them!"and fell over all of a piece on the hearthrug.
At which his father's face grew very still and angry as he gatheredthe great General gently in his arms and carried him upstairs to hisown little white cot.