What Timmy Did

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

  CHAPTER XIX

  Two hours later Janet Tosswill, after having tried in vain to readherself to sleep, got out of bed and put on her dressing gown. Somehowshe felt anxious about Timmy. She had gone to his room on her way upto bed; but, hearing no sound, she had crept away, hoping that he hadalready cried himself to sleep.

  All sorts of curious theories and suspicions drifted through her mind asshe lay, tossing this way and that, trying to fall asleep. She wondereduneasily why Timmy had brought Josephine at all into the drawing-room.Of course there had been nothing exactly wrong in his doing so, though,as Betty had justly remarked, it was a stupid thing to do so soon afterthe birth of the cat's kittens. And Timmy was not stupid.

  Janet told herself crossly that it was almost as if Mrs. Crofton had theevil eye, as far as animals were concerned! There had come back to herthe unpleasant scene which had occurred on the first evening their lateguest had come to Old Place, when Flick, most cheerful and happy-mindedof terriers, had behaved in such an extraordinary fashion. Butdisagreeable as that affair had been, it was nothing to what had happenedto-night.

  She felt she would never forget the scene which had followed on the whitecat's attack on Mrs. Crofton. And yet, while concerned and sorry, she hadbeen shocked at the poor young woman's utter lack of self-control.

  It was quite true, as Betty had somewhat bitterly remarked, that she,Janet Tosswill, did not care for cats. Unfortunately there was a certainsentimental interest attached to Josephine, for she had been brought fromFrance as a kitten, a present from Betty to Timmy, by an officer who hadbeen George's closest pal. She was also ruefully aware that old Nannawould very much resent the disappearance of "French pussy," as she hadalways called Josephine. As for Timmy, Janet had never seen her boy lookas he had looked to-night since the dreadful day that they had receivedthe War Office telegram about George.

  Leaving her room, she walked along the corridor till she came to Timmy'sdoor. She tried the handle, and, finding with relief that the door wasunlocked, walked in. At once there came a voice across the room, "Is thatyou, Mum?"

  "Yes, Timmy, it's Mum."

  Shutting the door, she felt her way across the room and came and sat downon Timmy's bed. He was sitting up, wide awake.

  She put her arms round him. "I'm so sorry," she said feelingly; "sosorry, Timmy, about your poor cat! But you know, my dear, that if--if shewere left alive, we could never feel comfortable for a single moment. Yousee, when an animal has done that sort of thing once, it may do itagain."

  "Josephine would never do it again," said Timmy obstinately, and hecaught his breath with a sob.

  "You can't possibly know that, my dear. She would of course have otherkittens, and then some day, when some perfectly harmless person happenedto come anywhere near her, she would fly at him or her, just as she didat Mrs. Crofton."

  "No, she wouldn't--she didn't do anything like that when she had her lastkittens."

  "I know that, Timmy. But you heard what Dr. O'Farrell said."

  "Dr. O'Farrell isn't God," said Timmy scornfully.

  "No, my dear, Dr. O'Farrell is certainly not God; but he is a verysensible, humane human being--and the last man to condemn even an animalto death, without good reason."

  There was a rather painful pause. Janet Tosswill felt as if the childwere withdrawing himself from her, both in a physical and in a mentalsense.

  "Mum?" he said in a low, heart-broken voice.

  "Yes, my dear?"

  "I want to tell you something."

  "Yes, Timmy?"

  "It's I who ought to be shot, not Josephine. It was all my fault. It hadnothing to do with her."

  "I don't know what you mean, Timmy. You mustn't talk in that exaggeratedway. Of course it was foolish of you to bring the cat into thedrawing-room, but still, you couldn't possibly have known that she wouldfly at Mrs. Crofton, or you wouldn't have done it."

  "I _did_ think she'd fly at Mrs. Crofton," he whispered.

  Janet felt disagreeably startled. "What d'you mean, Timmy? D'you meanthat you saw the cat fly at her before it happened?"

  She had known the boy to have such strange, vivid premonitions of eventswhich had come to pass.

  But Timmy answered slowly: "No, I don't mean that. I mean, Mum, that Iwanted to try an experiment. I wanted to see if Josephine would see whatFlick saw--I mean if she'd see the ghost of Colonel Crofton's dog. Shedid, for the dog was close to Mrs. Crofton's arm--the arm hanging overthe side of the sofa, you know."

  "Oh, Timmy! How very, very wrong of you to do such a thing!"

  "I know it was wrong." Timmy twisted himself about. "But it's no good yousaying that to me now--it only makes me more miserable."

  "But I _have_ to say so, my boy." Janet was not a Scotch mother fornothing. "I have to say so, Timmy, and I shall not be sorry thishappened, if it makes you behave in a different way--as I hope itwill--the whole of your life long."

  "It won't--I won't let it--if anything is done to Josephine!"

  But she went on, a little desperately, yet speaking in a quiet, collectedway: "I believe the things you say, Timmy. I believe you do see thingswhich other people are not allowed to see. But that ought to make youfar, far more careful--not less careful. Try to be an instrument forgood, not for evil, my dear, dear child."

  Timmy did not answer at once, but at last he said in a queer, muffledvoice: "If I were to tell Dr. O'Farrell what I did, do you think it wouldmake any difference? Do you think that he'd let Josephine go on beingalive?"

  "No," his mother answered, sadly, "I don't think it would make anydifference."

  "I thought by what the doctor said at first that they were going to takeJosephine somewhere to see if she was really mad," said Timmy in achoking voice, "just as they did to Captain Berner's dog last year."

  Janet Tosswill got up from her little boy's bed. She lit a candle. PoorTimmy! She had never seen the boy looking as he was looking now; heseemed utterly spent with misery.

  "I'll tell you what I'll do, my dear. I'll speak to Dr. O'Farrell myselfin the morning, and I'll ask him whether something can't be done in theway of a reprieve. I'll tell him we don't mind paying for Josephine to besent away for a bit to a vet."

  Hope, ecstatic hope, flashed into Timmy's tear-stained face. "You mean toa man like Trotman?"

  "Yes, that's what I do mean. But I mustn't raise false hopes. I fear Dr.O'Farrell has made up his mind; he promised Mrs. Crofton the cat shouldbe shot. Still, I'll do my _very_ best."

  Timmy put his skinny arms round his mother's neck.

  "I'm glad you're my mother, Mum," he muttered, "and not my step-mother."

  She smiled for the first time. "That's rather a double-edged compliment,if I may say so! But I suppose it's true that I would do a good deal morefor you than I would for any of the others."

  "I didn't mean _that_," exclaimed Timmy, shocked. "I only meant that Iwouldn't love you as well. I don't mean ever to be a step-father--I shallstart a lot of boys and girls of my own."

  "All right," she said soothingly, "I'm sure you will. Lie down now, andtry to go to sleep." She hoped with all her heart that the boy wouldsleep late the next morning, as he very often did when tired out, andthat the execution, if execution there must be, would be over by the timehe woke.

  She bent down, tucked him up, kissed him, blew out the candle, and thenwent quickly out of the room.

  * * * * *

  As soon as his mother had shut the door, Timmy sat up in bed, and thenhe gave a smothered cry. It was as if he had seen flash out into thedarkness his beloved cat's wistful face, her beautiful, big, china-blueeyes, gazing confidently at him, as if to say, "You'll save me, Master,won't you?"

  He listened intently for a few minutes, then he slipped down and felt hisway to the door. He opened it; but there came no sound from the sleepinghouse. Closing the door very, very softly, he lit his candle and rapidlydressed himself in his day clothes, finally putting on a thick pair ofwalking shoes, and over them goloshes. Timmy
hated goloshes, and neverwore them if he could help it, but he had read in some detective storythat they deadened sound.

  Then he blew his candle out, and again he went across to the door andlistened. Opening it at last, he slithered along the familiar corridortill he reached the three shallow steps which led up to the comparativelynew part of Old Place. There he felt his way with his fingers along thewall to the room which had always been called, as long as he couldremember, "George's room." Turning the handle of the door slowly, he saw,to his great surprise and gladness, that his godfather was not asleep.

  Radmore was sitting up in bed, reading luxuriously by the light of fourcandles which he had placed on a table by his bedside.

  "Hello!" he exclaimed, as his godson's odd-looking little figure shuffledacross the room. "Why, what's the matter?" He spoke very kindly, forTimmy's face was scared, his eyes red-rimmed with crying.

  "Come to have a chat, old boy? Why, Timmy--" as he suddenly realised theboy was fully dressed, "whatever have you been doing? I thought you'dgone to bed ever so long ago!"

  "I've been in bed a long time," answered Timmy, sidling up close to hisbed, "but I've just had a talk with Mum. I've come to ask you, Godfrey,if you'll help me with something very important." He added: "Even ifyou won't help me, I trust you to keep my secret."

  "Of course I'll keep your secret, old son."

  "I'm going to take Josephine and her kittens to Trotman," Timmy announcedsolemnly. "I've been wondering, coming along the passage, if you wouldtake us there in your motor. But if you don't feel you want to do that,I'm going to walk. It's not very far, only seven miles if one goes byfootpaths, and I could get a lift back."

  "Trotman?" repeated Radmore. "Who's Trotman?"

  It was Timmy's turn to be surprised. "I thought everyone--I mean everyman--in the world, knew about Trotman! Why, there was an account of himonce in the _London Magazine_. He's the famous vet--he lives at Epsom."

  Radmore lay back, and whistled thoughtfully.

  Timmy went on eagerly. "Last year there was a man near here who thoughthe had a mad dog--and he took _him_ to Trotman. Trotman kept him for everso long, and it turned out that the dog was not mad at all. I _know_ thatJosephine isn't mad."

  "I don't think she's mad," said Radmore frankly, "but she's a prettyvicious brute, Timmy. Is this the first time she's ever flown at anyone?"He looked searchingly at his godson.

  "The very first time of all," answered the boy passionately. "I know whyJosephine flew at Mrs. Crofton--at least she didn't fly at her--at Mrs.Crofton. She flew at the dog Mrs. Crofton always has with her."

  Radmore gave the child a long, steady look.

  "Come, Timmy, you know as well as I do that Mrs. Crofton had no dog withher."

  "She had a dog with her," repeated Timmy obstinately. "It's not a dog_you_ can see, but I see him and Flick sees him. I wanted to see ifJosephine would see him too. That's why I took her in there. So if she'sshot it will be all my fault." His voice broke, and, covering his facewith his hands, he turned his back on the bed and its occupant.

  Radmore stared at the small heaving back. There could be no doubt thatTimmy was speaking the truth _now_. "All right," he said quickly. "I'lldo what you want, Timmy. So cheer up! I suppose you've got a big basketin which you can put your cat and her kittens? While I put on someclothes, you can go and get her ready. But I advise you for your own saketo be quiet. Our game will be all up, if your mother wakes. I simplyshouldn't dare to disobey _her_, you know." He smiled quizzically at thechild, and, as he mentioned Janet, he lowered his voice instinctively.