Meantime, the party rampaged up and down stairs, shouted and romped and scuffled and played those “rough” games that children always tend to play when there is no grown-up at hand to quell them.
Suddenly, when the party was a seething struggling mass of attackers and defenders half-way up the staircase, the telephone bell-rang, and Aunt Emmy went from the kitchen to answer it. William listened anxiously.
“Yes, dear,” he heard Aunt Emmy say, “Yes, dear . . . No, dear . . . Oh, one moment, dear—”
Then she put down the receiver.
“That was Hubert’s mother, dear,” she said to William. “They’re at the station and coming along at once. She rang up to tell me I needn’t do anything about supper because they’re bringing something, but she rang off before I’d time to tell her about the party. Still, they’ll be here in a few minutes now, so you won’t miss them, after all. I’m so glad.”
But it appeared that William would miss them. He couldn’t wait. He had to go that very second. And, oddly enough, so had all the other guests. They found themselves hustled into hats and coats and chivied out of the house by William before they could get their breath.
“B-b-b-but won’t you just stay and see Hubert?” said the bewildered Aunt Emmy.
It appeared that none of them could.
“So sorry,” said William. “Thanks awfully for a lovely party," and vanished into the dusk, sweeping his flock before him.
Chattering excitedly, discussing the tea they had eaten and the games they had played, they swarmed down the lane. At the bend in the lane they ran into two shadowy figures, laden with parcels. These stopped and stared in amazement at the crowd of youthful revellers. The last youthful reveller stopped in his turn and spoke through the dusk.
“Thanks awfully for the party, Hubert,” he said.
Mrs. Lane burst into the house, followed by the laden Hubert.
“What on earth’s happened?” she said, gazing at the chaos around her.
“It’s the party,” said Aunt Emmy. “I haven’t had time to clear up yet. They’ve only just gone.”
“Who’s only just gone?” demanded Mrs. Lane.
“The party. You put the wrong date on. They came to-day.”
“Came to-day?” echoed Mrs. Lane. “What on earth do you mean?”
“I keep telling you, dear,” said Aunt Emmy patiently. “The party came to-day. You put the wrong date on the invitation cards.”
“I’m quite sure I did no such thing,” said Mrs. Lane.
“You must have done, dear,” persisted Aunt Emmy, “because they came to-day and, as they said they couldn’t come to-morrow, I let them stay. It seemed the only thing to do. They said they’d enjoyed it just as much as if Hubert had been here, and they certainly seemed to enjoy it. One of them was such a nice, helpful little boy. He said his name was William Brown.”
Hubert’s howl of rage and desolation rent the peaceful evening air.
William, who had crept back to listen, set off homeward, satisfied. He was going home, he knew, to Retribution, but the memory of that howl of Hubert’s would be ample compensation for whatever lay in store for him.
THE END
*
Credits and Information
Thank you once again to all those who helped me put together this book. This project, of scanning and digitizing as many of the William books I could, began around a year ago now, and may never have been completed without all those who helped me.
A huge thank you to golux, who proofread all of the chapters of this book, taking meticulous care while doing so; without him taking active interest in this project, I may not have been motivated enough to start actively scanning and digitizing again.
This is now the second book in this ongoing project to be released. If all goes well, look forward to many more!
Thank you to all of you who read this as well! Your reading this book means that the work of those who helped me, as well as of myself, didn’t go to waste.
If you feel that you can help, in any way (including scans of books or proofreading), or have any questions or suggestions, please contact me.
-rstring
31st December, 2017
PS: By the time you are reading this, it will likely be 2018 or beyond. In that case, happy new year!
PPS: Some of the images in this book were formatted weirdly in the edition I had. Therefore, I had to choose what I believed to be the best possible image position, always within a paragraph of its original location. Some I even ended up splitting in to two for better positioning when considering e-readers.
William Carries On Page 18
