CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
SIR FRANCIS AND A FRIEND.
The next few days passed pleasantly enough, for I saw very little of thetwo young gentlemen, who spent a good deal of their time in a meadowbeyond the garden, playing cricket and quarrelling. Once there seemedto have been a fight, for I came upon Philip kneeling down by awatering-pot busy with his handkerchief bathing his face, and the stateof the water told tales of what had happened to his nose.
As he seemed in trouble I was about to offer him my services, but heturned upon me so viciously with, "Hullo! pauper, what do you want?"that I went away.
The weather was lovely, and while it was so hot Mr Solomon used to dothe principal part of his work in the glass houses at early morn and inthe evening.
"Makes us work later, Grant," he used to say apologetically; "but asit's for our own convenience we ought not to grumble."
"I'm not going to grumble, sir," I said laughing; "all that training andtying in is so interesting, I like it."
"That's right," he said, patting me on the shoulder; "always try andlike your work; take a pride in it, my man, and it will turn up trumpssome time or another. It means taking prizes."
I had not seen Sir Francis yet, for he had been away, and I could nothelp feeling a little nervous about our first meeting. Still I waspretty happy there, and I felt that in spite of a few strong sensationsof longing to be back at the old garden with Ike and Shock, I wasgetting to like my new life very much indeed, and that as soon as thetwo boys had gone back to their school I should be as happy as could be.
I was gradually getting to like Mr Solomon, and Mrs Solomon grew morekind to me every day. The men about the garden, too, were all verycivil to me, and beyond a little bit of good-humoured banter from themnow and then I had no cause for complaint.
My great fear was that they would catch up the name young Philip hadbestowed upon me. That they knew of it I had pretty good evidence, forone day when I was busy over one of the verbena beds--busy at a task MrSolomon had set me after the sun had made the peach-house too hot, a bigbluff gardener came and worked close by me, mowing the grass in a shadypart under some trees.
"It's dry, and cuts like wire," he said, stopping to wipe his scythe andgive it a touch with the stone, making the blade ring and send forthwhat always sounded to be pleasant music to me.
"Oughtn't you to cut it when the dew is on?" I said.
"Yes, squire, if you can," he replied; "but there is so much grass wecan't get over it all in the early morning."
He went on mowing, and I continued my task of pegging down the longshoots of the beautiful scarlet, crimson, and white flowers, just as MrSolomon had instructed me, when all at once he came and looked on,making me feel very nervous; but he nodded and went away, so I supposedhe was satisfied, and I worked on again as cheerfully as could be, tillall at once I felt the blood flush up in my face, for the voice of youngPhilip Dalton came unpleasantly grating on my ear, as he said:
"Hullo, Bunce, mowing again?"
"Yes, Master Philup, mowin' again."
"Why, you've got the pauper there!" cried Philip. "I say, did you knowhe was a pauper?"
"No," said Bunce, "I didn't know. Do you want your legs ampytated?"
"No, stoopid, of course I don't."
"Then get outer the way or I shall take 'em off like carrots."
"Get out!" said Philip, as I saw that he was watching me. "I say,though, did you know that he was a pauper, and lived on skilly?"
"No," said the gardener quietly; and I felt as if I must get up and goaway, for now I knew I should be a mark of contempt for the whole staffwho worked in the garden.
"He was," said Philip.
"Pauper, was he?" said Bunce, making his scythe glide round in a halfcircle. "I shouldn't ha' thought it."
"Oh but he was or is, and always will be," said the boy maliciously."Once a pauper always a pauper. Look at him."
"I've been a looking at him," said Bunce slowly, for he was a bigmeditative man, and he stood upright, took a piece of flannel from thestrap that supported his whetstone sheath, and wiped the blade of thescythe.
"Well, can't you see?" cried my tormentor, watching me as I worked awayand assumed ignorance of his presence.
"No," said Bunce sturdily; "and seeing what a long, yellow,lizardly-looking wisp you are, Master Phil, if you two changed clothingI should pick you out as the pauper."
"How dare you!" cried the boy fiercely.
"Mind the scythe," shouted Bunce; "d'yer want to get cut?"
"You insolent old worm chopper, how dare you call me a pauper?"
"I didn't call you a pauper," said Bunce chuckling; "did I, Grant?"
"No," I said.
"You're a liar, you pauper!" cried the boy, who was furious. "I'll tellpapa--I'll tell Sir Francis, and you shall both be discharged, youblackguards."
"I'm just going to mow there, squire," said Bunce, sharpening away athis scythe.
"Then you'll wait till I choose to move."
"If you don't get out of the way I shall take the soles off your boots,"said Bunce, putting back his rubber.
"I'll speak to papa about your insolence," cried the boy, with his eyesflashing and his fists clenched; and I thought he was going to strikeBunce.
"Well," said a sharp ringing voice, "speak to him then. What is it?"
I started to my feet, and Bunce touched his cap to a tall elderlygentleman with closely-cut grey hair and a very fierce-looking whitemoustache, whose keen eyes seemed to look me through and through.
"I said, what is it, Phil?" cried the newcomer, whom I felt to be SirFrancis before Philip spoke.
"This fellow called me a pauper, pa!"
Sir Francis turned sharply on Bunce, who did not seem in the slightestdegree alarmed.
"How dare you call my son a pauper, sir?" he said sternly.
"I--"
"Stop!" cried Sir Francis. "Here, you boy, go away and wait till I callyou. Not far."
"Yes, sir," I said; and I walked away thinking what a fierce quick manhe seemed, and not knowing then that he was one of the magistrates.
A minute later he called to me to go back, and as soon as I had reachedhim, with Philip by his side and Bunce before him, Philip stepped backand held up his fist at me menacingly.
He thought the movement was unobserved by his stepfather; but SirFrancis, who was an old Indian officer, noted the act, as he showed usdirectly after.
"Now, boy," he said, "what's your name?"
"Grant, Sir Francis."
"Well, Grant, did this under-gardener call Master Philip a pauper?"
I told him exactly what had occurred, and Sir Francis turned sharply onhis step-son.
"You were already self-condemned, Philip," he said sternly. "I saw youthreaten this boy with your fist. The way to win respect from thosebeneath you in station is to treat them with respect."
"But, papa--"
"Hold your tongue, sir," said Sir Francis sternly.
"I had eight hundred men in my regiment, and all the band came from oneof the unions, and better fellows could not be found. My lad," hecontinued, "I dare say you know that pauper only means poor. It is nodisgrace to be poor. Philip, go indoors."
"That's a flea in his ear," said Bunce chuckling, as Sir Francis wentone way, Philip the other. "What do you think of the master?"
"He seems very sharp and angry," I said, returning to my work.
"He's all that," said the man; "but he's a reg'lar gentleman. He alwaysdrops on to them two if he catches 'em up to their larks. Nice boysboth of 'em."
That word _pauper_ rankled a good deal in my breast, for it was quiteevident to me that Sir Francis thought I was from one of the unions, andI had had no opportunity of showing him that I was not.
"But I will show him," I said to myself angrily. "He sha'n't seeanything in me to make him believe it. It's too bad."
I was busy, as I said that, arranging a barrowful of plants in rows,where they were to be surro
unded with earth, "plunged," as we called it,under the shelter of a wall, where they would get warmth and sunshineand grow hardy and strong, ready for taking in to the shelter of thegreenhouse when the weather turned cold.
It was some days since I had seen Philip; but, weakly enough, I let thememory of that word rankle still.
To carry out my task I had to fetch a pot at a time from the large widebarrow, and set them down in the trench that had been cut for them.This necessitated stooping, and as I was setting one down a lump ofsomething caught me so smartly on the back that I nearly dropped theflower-pot and started upright, looking round for the thrower of thepiece of clay, for there it was at my feet.
I could not see, but I guessed at once that it was Philip, though itmight have been Courtenay hiding behind some gooseberry bushes or thelow hornbeam hedge, about twenty yards away.
"I won't take any notice of the ill-bred young cubs," I said to myselfangrily; and I stooped and arranged the pot in its place and went backfor another, when _whack_! came another well-aimed piece, and hit me onthe side of the cap.
"You--"
I stopped myself, as I banged down the pot in a rage--stopped words andact, for I was going to run towards the spot whence the clay seemed tohave come.
"It's only play after all," I said to myself. "I'll show them, pauperor no, that I'm above being annoyed by such a trifle as that."
I moved a couple more pots, when something whizzed by my ear, and then Iwas hit on the shoulder by a little raw potato.
I wanted to run round to the back of the hornbeam hedge, which had beenplanted to shelter plants and not sharpshooters, but I restrainedmyself.
"Playing cricket makes them take such good aim," I thought to myself, asa piece of clay hit me on the back again; and I worked hard to finish mytask so as to get to the pit from which I was fetching the pots down tothe grass walk where I was; and I had got to the last pot, when, instooping to put it in its place, _plop_ came a soft lump of clay on thenape of my neck, and began to slip under my collar.
Down went the pot, and my cap on to the plant, and I turned sharp round,certain now that the missiles had been sent, not from the shelter hedgenor the gooseberry bushes, but from the wall, and there, sure enough,with his head and shoulders above the top, was my assailant.
My angry look changed to a bland smile as I saw the ragged straw hatwith the hair standing out of the top, and the grubby face of Shocklooking at me with his eyes twinkling and the skin all round wrinkled,while the rest of his face was sour.
"Why, Shock!" I cried; "who'd have thought of seeing you? How did youget there?"
"Clum up."
"Did Mr Brownsmith send you?"
He shook his head.
"How is it you are here, then?"
"Hooked it."
"Why, you haven't run away?"
"I jest have, though."
"But you are going back?"
He shook his head with all his might.
"I've sin you lots o' times," he said.
"When?"
"Yes'day. Day afore, and day afore that."
"What! have you been here three days?" Shock nodded.
"Where have you slept, then?"
"Haystack."
"And what have you had to eat?"
"Bread. Lots o' things I fun' in the fields. Rabbud."
"Who's that boy?" said a sharp voice that well knew; and Shock's headdisappeared.
"Mr Ezra Brownsmith's boy, Sir Francis," I said. "He used to work withme."
"Was he from the workhouse?"
"Yes, Sir Francis."
"Tell him not to do that again, and don't you encourage him. I don'tapprove of it. Go on with your work."
I took the barrow handles and wheeled it away, biting my lips, for ithad suddenly struck me that Sir Francis thought that I was talking to aboy who was my companion in the workhouse, and it seemed as if fate wasfixing the term pauper upon me so tightly that I should not be able toget it removed.
Plenty of little annoyances occurred, but I put up with them; and notthe least was the appearance of Shock at the top of first one wall andthen another, but never near enough to speak to me.
He showed himself so often here and there that I used to go about thegarden feeling sure that he was watching me; and at last I found, to myhorror, that he had grown more bold, and used to get into the garden,for one day I caught sight of him creeping on hands and knees among thegooseberry bushes.
I started in pursuit, but stopped directly, feeling sure that if I didso the act would result in trouble to us both, and determined to writeto Mr Ezra about him. I was glad I did so the next minute, forCourtenay and Philip came down the garden to amuse themselves pickinggooseberries and eating them.
I was busy watering some celery that had been planted in trenches andshaded from the hot sun.
To do this I had a barrel fitted on wheels in a sort of barrow. Fromthis I filled my can by dipping it, and when I had finished I had to godown to the bottom of the garden to a good-sized pond and reverse theprocess, dipping a bucket at some steps and filling the barrel.
I had filled my barrel once, and was busy dipping my can and thinkingabout Shock and what would be the consequences if he were seen by thetwo boys, when I suddenly found them by me, each with his cap full ofripe gooseberries, which they were eating as they watched me; and aftergiving his brother a look, Philip opened the annoyance by saying:
"Come, pauper, work away."
I took no notice, when a half-sucked gooseberry struck me on the arm.
It was a disgusting act on the young coward's part, but though in amoment I felt on fire, I only wiped it off, when Courtenay threw one andhit me on the face.
I wiped that away too, and raising my can stepped off the path on to thebed to go to the trench, but not in time to avoid a large over-ripegooseberry which smashed as it struck me in the ear and began to trickledown.
I was in such a rage that the roar of laughter from my two tyrants halfmaddened me, and I watered that celery in a way that washed some of theroots quite bare.
They were waiting for me when I got back to the tub, and, emboldened bythe patient way in which I bore their insults, they kept on pelting mewith the over-ripe fruit till I had it in my hair, my eyes, and downwithin the collar of my shirt.
I ground my teeth with rage, and felt that I could bear it no longer,but I made no sign.
Then they pelted me with words too, inventing ridiculous names, askingme about the workhouse food, and at last I determined to bear it nolonger, but go straight up to the house and show Sir Francis the state Iwas in and beg him to put a stop to this annoyance.
But just then it flashed upon my mind that Sir Francis and her ladyshiphad gone out the day before to stay somewhere for a fortnight, and thisexplained the boldness of the two young ruffians, who had never behavedso outrageously before.
"If I go and tell Mr Solomon," I thought, "he will only tell me I wasfoolish to take any notice;" and at last, writhing with annoyance, Iemptied the barrel and trundled it down to the pond, hoping to leave mytormentors behind.
But no; they followed me and continued their assaults as soon as theyhad replenished their caps with the gooseberries that were abundant onthe bushes, over-ripe many of them, and of monstrous size.
"Did you ever see such a coward?" said Philip.
"Like all these paupers," cried Courtenay. "Ha! ha! ha! right in theear."
I stamped with rage for his words were true about his aim, though I didnot feel cowardly, for I was working hard to do my duty and keep myhands from my assailants.
"Give him one in the eye," said Philip. "Bet you twopence, Court, I hithim first in the eye."
They went on pelting and I went on filling my barrel, dipping with thebucket and pouring it in, and a dozen times over it was all I could doto keep from discharging the contents of the pail in Courtenay's face.
Full at last, and I was ready to go up the garden again.
I glanced round in the hope o
f seeing Mr Solomon or Bunce or one of theother gardeners; but they were all busy in the upper gardens, while Iwas quite shut in here with my tormentors.
"Here, let's get some more shot, Court," cried Philip. "I'll serve thesneaking coward out for getting me in that row with pa."
"Wait a bit," said his brother; "look at him. He goes down just like amonkey. He's going to wash his gooseberry face."
He was quite right, for I had laid my cap aside and stooped down at thedipping place to wash off some of the seedy, sticky pulp before goingback.
"Dirty brute!" said Philip. "I never saw such a coward in my life."
I ought to have been on my guard and not have given them the opportunitywhich I did, for as I stooped down there, crouching on my heels, Iplaced a great temptation in Courtenay Dalton's way. For as I stoopedright down, scooping up the water with one hand to bathe my face, Isuddenly felt a sharp thrust from a foot on my back, and before I couldsave myself I was head over heels in the deep water.
It was not so deep but that I got my footing directly, and seizing thepost at the side tried to struggle out, when amidst shouts of laughterPhilip cried:
"Give him another dowse. That's the way to wash a pauper clean."
I was half-blind with the water, as Courtenay thrust my hand from thepost, and in I went again, to come up red hot instead of cold.
He thrust me in again and I went right under; but my rage was notquenched, and, taught by my experience, I made a rush as if to springout on to the dipping-place but instead of doing so I caught at a branchof a willow by the side and sprang out.
"Shake yourself, dog!" cried Courtenay, roaring with laughter.
"Fetch him a towel," cried Philip. "A towel for the clean pauper. Givehim another ducking, Courtenay."
He ran at me, but in those moments I had forgotten everything in mythirst to be revenged on my cowardly persecutors.
Philip only seemed to be something in my way as I made at his brother,and throwing out one fist, he went down amongst the willows, while thenext minute I was striking at Courtenay with all my might.
He was a bigger boy than I. Taller and older, and he had had many agood fight at school no doubt; but my onslaught staggered him, and Idrove him before me, striking at him as he reached the handles of mywater-barrow, and he fell over them heavily.
This only enraged him, and he sprang up and received my next blow rightin the face, to be staggered for the moment.
Then I don't know what happened, only that my arms were going likewindmills, that I was battering Courtenay, and that he was battering me;that we were down, and then up, and then down again, over and over, andfighting fiercely as a couple of dogs.
I think I was getting the best of it, when I began to feel weak, andthat my adversary was hitting me back and front at once.
Then I realised that Philip had attacked me too, and that I was gettingvery much the worst of it in a sort of thunderstorm which rained blows.
Then the blows only came from one side, for there was a hoarse pantingand the sound of heavy blows and scuffling away from me, while I washitting out again with all my might at one boy instead of two.
All at once there was a crash and the rattle of an iron handle, andCourtenay went down. He had caught against the pail and fallen.
This gave me time to glance round and see in a half-blinded way thatPhilip was fighting with some other boy, who closed with him, and downthey went together.
"Yah! yah! Cowards! cowards!" cried a voice that I well knew; and I sawgiddily that Courtenay and Philip were running up the path, and thatShock was standing beside me.
"Well done!" cried another voice. "What a licking you two give 'em!"
Shock started, and ran, darting among the bushes, while I sat down on abarrow-handle, feeling rather thick and dizzy.
"I was coming to stop it. Two to one's too bad; but that ragged chapcome out at young Phil, and my word, he did give it him well. Are youmuch hurt, my lad?"
"No, not much, Mr Bunce," I said, staring at him in rather a confusedway.
"Here, I'll get some water," he said; and he went and dipped a pailful."Bathe your face in that."
I did so, and felt clearer and refreshed directly.
"Go on," he said; "keep it up. It will stop the bleeding. What! haveyou been in the pond?"
"Yes," I said; "they've been pelting me this last half hour, and thenthey pushed me in."
"The young rips!" cried Bunce. "Never mind. I'm as pleased as if someone had given me a sovereign."
"Yes," I said dismally; "and they'll tell Sir Francis, and I shall haveto go."
"Not you," said Bunce. "They're awful curs, but they're beaten, andthey won't tell."
"Hallo! what's all this?" said Mr Solomon, coming up.
Bunce told him.
"And did he thrash 'em well?" said Mr Solomon, looking rather angry,"the pair of them?"
"No. They were too strong both at once, but that Ragged Jack of a chapthat's been hanging about--him as I told you of this morning--he comeout and tackled young Phil when he was on Grant's back, and my wordthose two have gone off with their tails between their legs. Licked,sir, licked out and out."
"I suppose I shall be sent away, sir," I said, wringing the water out ofmy shirt-sleeves.
"I suppose you won't," said Mr Solomon sharply. "I've seen a deal, mylad, and I wondered you didn't have a turn at them before. I didn'tthink you'd got the stuff in you, to tell you the truth."
"Oh, but he had!" said Bunce. "I wish you'd ha' seen."
"Well, I'm sorry," said Mr Solomon. "No, I'm not; I'm glad. They'llleave you alone now. There, go and change your things. It was time youdid strike. Here, I'll go with you, or you'll frighten the missus intofits. I say," he shouted back, "keep a sharp look-out for that boy, andcatch him if you can. I must have him stopped."
"Poor old Shock!" I thought, as I felt grateful to him for what he haddone.
The next minute I was at the gardener's cottage, being scolded and wipedby Mrs Solomon, who said she had never seen such a sight in her life,and who was not happy till she had me down-stairs in dry things, bathingone of my eyes, putting a leech on the other, and carefully strapping upa cut on the back of my head.
Brownsmith's Boy: A Romance in a Garden Page 24
