Brownsmith's Boy: A Romance in a Garden

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  MASTER PHILIP.

  "What! I caught you then, did I?" cried a sharp unpleasant voice."Just dropped upon you, did I, my fine fellow? You scoundrel, how dareyou steal our peaches!"

  The speaker was a boy of somewhere about my own age, and as I faced himI saw that he was thin, and had black hair, a yellowish skin, and darkeyes. He was showing his rather irregular teeth in a sneering smilethat made his hooked nose seem to hang over his mouth, while hishigh-pitched, harsh, girlish voice rang and buzzed in my ears in adiscordant way.

  I did not answer; I felt as if I could not speak. All I wanted to dowas to fly at him and strike out wildly, while something seemed to holdme back as he stood vapouring before me, swishing about the thin, black,silver-handled cane he carried, and at every swish he cut some leaf ortwig.

  "How dare you strike me?" I cried at last furiously, and I advancedwith my teeth set and my lists clenched, forgetting my position there,and not even troubling myself in my hot passion to wonder who or whatthis boy might be.

  "How dare I, you ugly-looking dog!" he cried, retreating before me astep or two. "I'll soon let you know that. Who are you, you thief?"

  "I'm not a thief," I shouted, wincing still with the pain.

  "Yes, you are," he cried. "How did you get in here? I've caught you,though, and we shall know now where our fruit goes when we get theblame. Here, out you come."

  The boy caught me by the collar, and I seized him by the arms with afierce, vindictive feeling coming over me; but he was very light andactive, and, wresting himself partly free, he gave the cane a swing inthe air, raised it above his head, and struck at me with all his might.

  I hardly know how it all occurred in the hurry and excitement, but Iknow that I gave myself a wrench round, driving him back as I did so,and making a grasp at the cane with the full intention of getting itfrom him and thrashing him as hard as I could in return for his blow.

  He missed his aim: I missed mine. My hand did not go near the cane; thecane did not come down as he intended upon my back, but with a fierceswish struck the branch of one of the peaches, breaking it so that ithung by the bark and a few fibres, while three or four of the ripe fruitfell with heavy thuds upon the ground.

  "There, now you've done it, you young rough!" he cried viciously. "Comeout."

  His dark eyes glowed, and he showed his white teeth as he struck at meagain and again; but I avoided the blows as I wrestled with him, and atlast my sturdy strength, helped by the work I had had in OldBrownsmith's garden, told, and I got hold of the cane, forced open hishand, and wrested it away.

  I remember very well the triumphant feeling that came over me as Iraised the cane and was in the act of bringing it down with all mymight, when there was a strong hand from behind upon my shoulder, andanother caught my arm, ran down it to the wrist and hand, wrested thecane away, and swung me round.

  It was Mr Solomon, looking very red in the face, and frowning at meseverely.

  "What are you doing?" he cried. "Do you know who that is?"

  "He struck me with the cane."

  "He was stealing peaches."

  "I was not; I was picking one up."

  "He was stealing them. Just look what he has done."

  "I did not do it, Mr Solomon," I cried. "It was he."

  "Oh, what a cracker, Brownie! I came and caught him at it; and becauseI said he was a thief he hit at me with that cane."

  "How did he get the cane? Why, it's yours," said Mr Solomon; "and Ibelieve you broke that young peach."

  "Get out! It was he. Take him to the police. I caught him at it."

  Mr Solomon stooped and picked up the bruised and fallen peaches, laidthem on a shelf, and then took out his knife and cut away the brokenbough neatly.

  Then he stood and looked at it for a moment, and the sight of the damageroused up a feeling of anger in him, for he turned sharply.

  "Here, you be off!" he said, advancing on the boy with the cane underhis arm.

  For answer the boy snatched the cane away. "What do you say?" he criedhaughtily.

  "I say you be off out of my glass-houses, Master Philip. I won't haveyou here, and so I tell you."

  "How dare you talk to me like that?" cried the boy.

  "Dare! I'll dare a deal more than that, young fellow, if you are notoff," cried Mr Solomon, who was a great deal more excited and animatedthan I should have imagined possible. "I'm not going to have my fruitspoiled like this."

  "Your fruit indeed! I like that," cried the boy. "Yours?"

  "See what you've done to my Royal George!"

  "See what I've done to your Royal George!"--mockingly.

  "Now be off," cried Mr Solomon. "Serves me right for not keeping thehouses locked up. Now, then, you be off out."

  "Sha'n't," said the boy. "I shall stop here as long as I like. Youtouch me if you dare. If you do I'll tell papa."

  "I shall tell him myself, my lad," cried Mr Solomon.

  "You forget who I am," cried the boy.

  "I don't know anything about who you are when my show of fruit's beingspoiled," replied Mr Solomon. "A mischievous boy's a boy doingmischief to me when I catch him, and I won't have him here."

  "Turn him out, then," cried the boy; "turn out that rough youngblackguard. I came in and caught him picking and stealing, and I gavehim such a one."

  He switched his cane as he spoke, and looked at me so maliciously that Itook a step forward, but Mr Solomon caught me sharply by the shoulderand uttered a low warning growl.

  "I don't believe he was stealing the fruit," said Mr Solomon slowly."He has got a good character, Master Philip, and that's what you haven'tbeen able to show."

  "If you talk to me like that I'll tell papa everything, and have youdischarged."

  "Do!" said Mr Solomon.

  "And I'll tell papa that you are always having in your friends, andshowing 'em round the garden. What's that beggar doing in ourhothouses?"

  "I'm not a beggar," I cried hotly.

  "Hold your tongue, Grant," said Mr Solomon in a low growl as he trimmedoff a broken twig that had escaped him at first.

  "It was lucky I came in," continued the boy, looking at me tauntingly."If I hadn't come I don't know how many he wouldn't have had."

  "Mr Brownsmith," I said, as I smarted with pain, rage, and the desireto get hold of that cane once more, and use it, "I found a peach lyingon the ground, and I was going to pick it up."

  "And eat it?" said the gardener without looking at me.

  "Eat it! No," I said hotly, "I can go amongst fruit without wanting toeat it like a little child."

  I looked at him indignantly, for he seemed to be suspecting me, he wasso cold and hard, and distant in his manner.

  "Mr Brownsmith always trusted me amongst his fruit," I said angrily.

  "Humph!" said Mr Solomon, "and so you weren't going to eat the peach?"

  "He was; I saw him. It was close up to his mouth."

  "It is not true," I cried.

  "He isn't fit to be trusted in here, and I shall tell papa how I savedthe peaches. He won't like it when he hears."

  "I won't stop a day in the place," I said to myself in the heat of myindignation, for Mr Solomon seemed to be doubting me, and I felt as ifI couldn't bear to be suspected of being a thief.

  My attention was taken from myself to the boy and Mr Solomon the nextmoment, for there was a scene.

  "Now," said Mr Solomon, "I want to lock up this house, young gentleman,so out you go."

  "You can come when I've done," said the boy, poking at first one fruitand then another with the cane, as he strutted about. "I'm not goingyet."

  He was in the act of touching a ripe nectarine when Mr Solomon lookedas if he could bear it no longer, and he snatched the cane away.

  "Here, you give me my cane," cried the boy. "You be off out, sir."

  "Sha'n't!"

  "Will you go?"

  "No. Don't you push me!"

  "Walk out t
hen."

  "Sha'n't. It's our place, and I sha'n't go for you."

  "Will you go out quietly?"

  "No, I shall stop as long as I like."

  "Once more, Master Philip, will you go?"

  "No!" yelled the boy; "and you give me back my cane."

  "Will you go, sir? Once more."

  "Send that beggar away, and not me," cried the boy.

  "I shall stop till I choose to go, and I shall pick the peaches if Ilike."

  Mr Solomon looked down at him aghast for a few moments, and then, asthe boy made a snatch at his cane, he caught him up, tucked him underhis arm, and carried him out, kicking and struggling with all his might.

  I followed close behind, thoroughly enjoying the discomfiture of myenemy, and was the better satisfied for seeing the boy thrown downpretty heavily upon a heap of mowings of the lawn.

  "I'll pay you for this," cried the boy, who had recovered his cane; and,giving it a swish through the air, he raised it as if about to strikeMr Solomon across the face.

  I saw Mr Solomon colour up of a deeper red as he looked at the boy veryhard; and then he said softly, but in a curious hissing way:

  "I shouldn't advise you to do that, young sir. If you did I mightforget you were Sir Francis' boy, and take and pitch you into thegold-fish pond. I feel just as if I should like to do it without."

  The boy quailed before his stern look, and uttered a nasty sniggeringlaugh.

  "I can get in any of the houses when I like, and I can take the fruitwhen I like, and I'll let papa know about your beggars of friendsmeddling with the peaches."

  "There, you be off," said the gardener. "I'll tell Sir Francis too, assure as my name's Brownsmith."

  "Ha--ha--ha! There's a name!" cried the boy jeeringly. "Brownsmith.What a name for a cabbage-builder, who pretends to be a gardener, and isonly an old woman about the place! Roberts's gardener is worth ahundred Sol Brownsmiths. He grows finer fruit and better flowers, andyou'll soon be kicked out. Perhaps papa will send you away now."

  Mr Solomon bit his lips as he locked the door, for he was touched in atender place, for, as I found out afterwards, he was very jealous of thesuccess of General Roberts's gardener.

  His back was turned, and, taking advantage of this, the boy made a dashat me with his cane.

  This was too much in my frame of mind, and I went at him, when the headgardener turned sharply and stood between us.

  "That'll do," he cried sternly to us both.

  "All right!" said the boy in a cool disdainful manner. "I'll watch forhim, and if ever he comes in our garden again I'll let him know. I'llpay the beggar out. He is a beggar, isn't he, old Solomon?"

  "Well, if I was asked which of you was the young gentleman, and whichthe ill-bred young beggar, I should be able to say pretty right,"replied the gardener slowly.

  "Oh! should you? Well, don't you bring him here again, or I'll let himknow."

  "You'd better let him know now, boy, for he's going to stop."

  "What's he, the new boy?" said the lad, as if asking a very innocentquestion. "Where did you get him, Brownsmith? Is he out of theworkhouse?"

  Mr Solomon smiled at the boy's malice, but he saw me wince, and he drewme to his side in an instant. I had been thinking what a cold, hard manhe was, and how different to his brother, who had been quite fatherly tome of late; but I found out now that he was, under his stern outwardseeming, as good-hearted as Old Brownsmith himself.

  He did not speak, but he laid one hand upon my shoulder and pressed it,and that hand seemed to say to me:

  "Don't take any notice of the little-minded, contemptible, spoiled cub;"and I drew a deep breath and began to feel that perhaps after all Ishould not want to go away.

  "I thought so," cried the boy with a snigger--"he's a pauper then. Ha,ha, ha! a pauper! I'll tell Courtenay. We'll call him pauper if hestops here."

  "And that's just what he is going to do, Master Philip," said the headgardener, who seemed to have recovered his temper; "and that's what,thank goodness, you are not going to do. And the sooner you are offback to school to be licked into shape the better for you, that is ifever you expect to grow into a man. Come along, my lad, it's gettinglate."

  "Yes, take him away," shouted the boy as I went off with Mr Solomon, myblood seeming to tingle in my veins as I heard a jeering burst oflaughter behind me, and directly after the boy shouted:

  "Here, hi! Courtenay. Here's a game. We've got a new pauper in theplace."

  Mr Solomon heard it, but he said nothing as we went on, while I feltvery low-spirited again, and was thinking whether I had not better giveup learning how to grow fruit and go back to Old Brownsmith, and Ike,and Shock, and Mrs Dodley, when my new guide said to me kindly:

  "Don't you take any notice of them, my lad."

  "Them?" I said in dismay.

  "Yes, there's a pair of 'em--nice pair too. But they're often away atschool, and Sir Francis is a thorough gentleman. They're not his boys,but her ladyship's, and she has spoiled 'em, I suppose. Let 'em growwild, Grant. I say, my lad," he continued, looking at me with a drolltwinkle in his eye, "they want us to train them, and prune them, andtake off some of their straggling growths, eh? I think we could make adifference in them, don't you?"

  I smiled and nodded.

  "Only schoolboys. Say anything, but it won't hurt us. Here we are.Come in."

  He led the way into a plainly furnished room, where everything seemed tohave been scoured till it glistened or turned white; and standing by atable, over which the supper cloth had been spread, was a tall,quiet-looking, elderly woman, with her greyish hair very smoothlystroked down on either side of her rather severe face.

  "This is young Grant," said Mr Solomon.

  The woman nodded, and looked me all over, and it seemed as if she tookmore notice of my shirt and collar than she did of me.

  "Sit down, Grant, you must be hungry," said Mr Solomon; and as soon aswe were seated the woman, who, I supposed, was Mrs Solomon, began tocut us both some cold bacon and some bread.

  "Master Philip been at you long?" said Mr Solomon, with his mouth full.

  "No, sir," I said; "it all happened in a moment or two."

  "I'm glad you didn't hit him," he said. "Eat away, my lad."

  The woman kept on cutting bread, but she was evidently listeningintently.

  "I'm glad now, sir," I said; "but he hurt me so, and I was in such apassion that I didn't think. I didn't know who he was."

  "Of course not. Go on with your supper."

  "I hope, sir, you don't think I was going to eat that peach," I said,for the thought of the affair made my supper seem to choke me.

  "If I thought you were the sort of boy who couldn't be trusted, my lad,you wouldn't be here," said Mr Solomon quietly. "Bit more fat,mother."

  I brightened up, and he saw it.

  "Why, of course not, my lad. Didn't I trust you, and send you in amongmy choice grapes, and ripe figs, and things. There, say no more aboutit. Gardeners don't grow fruit to satisfy their mouths, but their eyes,and their minds, my lad. Eat away. Don't let a squabble with aschoolboy who hasn't learned manners spoil your supper. We've never hadany children; but if we had, Grant, I don't think they would be likethat."

  "They make me miserable when they are at home," said Mrs Solomon,speaking almost for the first time.

  "Don't see why they should," said Mr Solomon, with his voice soundingas if his tongue were a little mixed up with his supper. "Why, theydon't come here."

  "They might be made such different boys if properly trained."

  "They'll come right by and by, but for the present, Grant, you steerclear of them. They're just like a couple of young slugs, or so muchblight in the garden now."

  The supper was ended, and Mrs Solomon, in a very quiet, quick way,cleared the cloth, and after she had done, placed a Bible on the table,out of which Mr Solomon read a short chapter, and then shook hands withme and sent me away happy.

  "Good night, my l
ad!" he said. "It's all strange to you now, and we'renot noisy jolly sort of people, but you're welcome here, and we shallget on."

  "Yes," said Mrs Solomon in a very cold stern way that did not seem atall inviting or kind. "Come along and I'll show you your bed-room."

  I followed her upstairs and into a little room with a sloping ceilingand a window looking out upon the garden; and at the sight of the neatlittle place, smelling of lavender, and with some flowers in a jug uponthe drawers, the depression which kept haunting me was driven away.

  Everything looked attractive--the clean white bed and its daintyhangings, the blue ewer and basin on the washstand, the picture or twoon the wall, and the strips of light-coloured carpet on the white floor,all made the place cheerful and did something to recompense me for thetrouble of having to leave what seemed to be my regular home, and comefrom one who had of late been most fatherly and kind, to people who werenot likely to care for me at all.

  "I think there's everything you want," said Mrs Solomon, looking at mecuriously. "Soap and towel, and of course you've got your hair-brushand things in your box there."

  She pointed at the corded box which stood in front of the table.

  "If there's anything you want you can ask. I hope you'll be veryclean."

  "I'll try to be, ma'am," I said, feeling quite uncomfortable, she lookedat me so coldly.

  "You can use those drawers, and your box can go in the back room.Good-night!"

  She went away and shut the door, looking wonderfully clean and prim, butdepressing instead of cheering me; and as soon as she was gone Iuncorded my box, wondering whether I should be able to stay, and wishingmyself back at Isleworth.

  I had taken out my clothes and had reached the bottom of my box, anxiousto see whether the treasures I had there in a flat case, consisting ofpinned-out moths and butterflies, were all right and had not been shakenout of place by the jolting of the cart, when there was a sharp tap atthe door and Mr Solomon came in.

  "Hullo!" he said; "butterflies and moths!--eh?"

  He spoke quite angrily, as it seemed to me, and chilled me, as I feltthat he would not like me to do such a thing as collect.

  "Hah!" he said. "I used to do that when I was a boy. There's lotshere; but don't go after them when you're at work."

  "No, sir," I said.

  "Thought I'd come up, my lad, as it's all strange to you. I haven'tmuch to say to you, only keep away from those boys. Let 'em talk, butnever you mind."

  "I'll try, sir."

  "That's right. Work to-morrow morning at six. You may begin sooner ifyou like. I often, do. Breakfast at eight; dinner at twelve; tea atfive, and then work's supposed to be done. I generally go in the housesthen. Always something wants doing there."

  He stood thinking and looking as cold and hard as could be while Iwaited for him to speak again; but he did not for quite five minutes,during which time he stood picking up my comb and dropping it back intothe hair-brush.

  "Yes," he said suddenly, "I should go in for those late lettuces if Iwas Ezra. He'd find a good sale for them when salads were gettingscarce. Celery's very good, but people don't like to be always tieddown to celery and endives--a tough kind of meat at the best of times.If you write home--no, this is home now--if you write to Brother Ezra,you say I hope he'll keep his word about the lettuces. Good-night!"

  I felt puzzled as soon as he had gone, and had not the slightest ideahow I felt towards the people with whom I was to pass months--perhapsyears.

  "I shall never like Mrs Solomon," I said to myself dolefully; "and Ishall only like him half and half--liking him sometimes and not caringfor him at others."

  I was very tired, and soon after I was lying in the cool sweet sheetsthinking about my new home, and watching the dimly-seen window; and thenit seemed to be all light and to look over Old Brownsmith's garden,where Shock was pelting at me with pellets of clay thrown from the endof a switch. And all the time he came nearer and nearer till thepellets went right over my shoulder, and they grew bigger till they werepeaches that he kept sticking on the end of the switch, and as he threwthem they broke with a noise that was like the word _Push_!

  I wanted to stop him, but I could not till he threw one peach with allhis might, and the switch caught me across the back, and I retaliated bytaking it away and thrashing him.

  Then I woke with a start, and found I had been dreaming. I lay for afew minutes after that in the darkness thinking that I would learn all Icould about fruit-growing as fast as possible, so as to know everything,and get back to Old Brownsmith; and then all at once I found myselfsitting up in bed listening, with the sun shining in at one side of myblind, while I was wondering where I was and how I had come there.