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The Vast Abyss, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 23 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. "Humph!" ejaculated Uncle Richard, as he finished his inspection of the bath-chair just taken out of the Vicar's cart. "See that the carrier calls for it, David, to take it back to Guildford; and you, Tom, write for me to the man it was hired from, pointing out that we have had an accident, and tell him to send in his bill." "And it'll be a big 'un, Master Tom," said David, chuckling and rubbing his hands as soon as his master was out of hearing. "My word, it's got it, and no mistake. One wheel right off, the front all twissen, and the axle-tree bent. It'll be like making a new 'un. Tck!" "You wouldn't laugh like that, David, if you'd got it to pay for," said Tom. "True for you, Master Tom; but I wasn't laughing at the ravage, but at the idee of your uncle, who creeps about thinking he's very bad when he arn't thinking o' nothing else, going spinning down the hill, and steering hisself right into the old sand-pit." "And I don't see that you have anything to laugh at in that," said Tom stiffly. "More don't I, Master Tom, but I keep on laughing all the more, and can't help it. Now if he had been very badly, I don't think I could ha' done it." "My uncle is very ill, and came down here for the benefit of his health," said Tom sternly. "Then your nursing, Master Tom, and my vegetables and fruit's done him a lot o' good, for the way he walked home after being spilt did us a lot o' credit. I couldn't ha' walked better." Tom thought the same, though he would not say so, but helped the gardener place the wrecked chair in the coach-house, and then found his uncle coming that way. "Get the wheelbarrow, Tom," he said, "and we'll take the new discs of glass into the workshop." "And begin again, uncle?" cried Tom excitedly. "What, are you ready to go through all that labour again?" "Ready, uncle?" cried the boy reproachfully. "Why, all the while Uncle James has been down here it has seemed to be like so much waste of time." "Humph!" ejaculated Uncle Richard; "then we must work over hours to win back the loss. Help him on with the case carefully, David, and I'll go first to open the door." "Say, Master Tom," said the gardener, "ain't it more waste o' time to go glass-grinding and making contrapshums like this? Hey, but it's precious heavy," he continued, as he helped to lift one end of the case on to the long barrow. "Waste of time to make scientific instruments?" cried Tom. "Ay. What's the good on it when it's done?" "To look at the sun, moon, and stars, to be sure." "Well, you can do that without tallow-scoops, sir; and you take my advice, don't you get looking at the sun through none o' them things, sir. Hey, but it be a weight!" he continued, raising the handles of the barrow. "Never mind; I can manage it," cried Tom. "Then I arn't going to let you, sir." "Why not?" "'Cause my muskles is hard and yours is soft, and may get stretched and strained. Hold that there door back. It's all up-hill, you know; master never thought o' that." David wheeled the heavy case up to the door of the old mill, helped to carry the case in, and then in a whisper said-- "Let's have a look at him when you've done, Master Tom." "Look at whom?" said the boy wonderingly. "Man in the moon," replied David, with a chuckle, as he trotted back with the barrow, and Uncle Richard came down from the observatory to take out the screws and unpack the two discs. Within an hour they were at work again, and day after day passed--wasted days, David said. "Master and you had a deal better set to work and build me a vinery to grow some more grapes," he grumbled; but Tom laughed, and the speculum gradually began to assume its proper form. There had only been one brief letter in answer to two sent making inquiries, and this letter said that Uncle James was much better, and regularly attending the office. "My vegetables," said David, when he was told. "Nothing like 'em, and plenty o' fresh air, Master Tom, to set a man right. But just you come and look here." He led the way down the garden to where, the Marie Louise pear-tree spread its long branches upon the wall, each laden with the soft green fruit hanging to the long thin stalks, which looked too fragile to bear so great a weight. "Pears?" said Tom. "Yes, I was looking at them yesterday, and thinking how good they must be." "Nay, but they am't, Master Tom; that's just it. If you was to pick one o' they--which would be a sin, sir--and stick your teeth into it, you'd find it hard and tasting sappy like chewed leaves." "Why I thought they were ripe." "Nay, not them, sir. You want to take a pear, sir, just at the right moment." "And when is the right moment for a pear?" David laughed, and shook his head. "Tends on what sort it is, sir. Some's at their best in September, and some in October. Then you goes on to December and January, and right on to April. Why the round pears on that little tree yonder don't get ripe till April and May. Like green bullets now, but by that time, or even June, if you take care on 'em, they're like brown skins' full o' rich sugary juice." "But these must be ripe, David." "Nay, sir, they're not. As I told you afore, if you pick 'em too soon they srivels. When they're quite ripe they're just beginning to turn creamy colour like." "Well, they're a very nice lot, David." "Yes, sir; and what am I to do?" "Let 'em hang." "I wish I could, sir, but I feel as if I dursn't." "Dare not! Why?" "Fear they might walk over the wall." "What, be stolen?" "Ay, my lad. I come in at that gate at six this morning, and was going gently down the centre walk, when it was like having a sort o' stroke, for there was a head just peeping over the wall." "A stranger?" "I couldn't quite see, sir; but I'm 'most ready to swear as it was Pete Warboys, looking to see if they was ready to go into his pockets." "Then let's pick them at once," cried Tom. "Dear lad, what is the use o' my teaching of you," said David reproachfully. "Don't I keep on telling o' you as they'd srivel up; and what's a pear then? It ain't as if it was a walnut, where the srivel's a ornyment to the shell." "Then let's lie wait for my gentleman with a couple o' sticks." David's wrinkled face expanded, and his eyes nearly-closed. "Hah! Now you're talking sense, sir," he said, in a husky whisper, as if the idea was too good to be spoken aloud. "Hazel sticks, sir--thick 'uns?" "Hazel! A young scoundrel!" cried Tom. "Nay, he's an old 'un, sir, in wickedness." "Hazel is no good. I'd take old broomsticks to him," cried Tom indignantly. "Oh, I do hate a thief." "Ay, sir, that comes nat'ral, 'speshly a thief as comes robbin' of a garden. House-breakers and highwaymen's bad enough; but a thief as come a-robbin' a garden, where you've been nussin' the things up for years and years--ah! there's nothing worse than that." "You've got some old birch brooms, David," cried Tom, without committing himself to the gardener's sentiments. "Birch, sir? Tchah! Birch would only tickle him, even if we could hit him on the bare skin." "Nonsense! I didn't mean the birch, I meant the broomsticks." "Oh, I see!" said David. "But nay, nay, sir, that wouldn't do. You see, when a man's monkey's up he hits hard; and if you and me ketched Pete Warboys over in our garden, and hit as hard as we could, we might break him; and though I says to you it wouldn't be a bit o' consequence, that there old rampagin' witch of a granny of his would come up here cursing every one, and making such filliloo that there'd be no bearing it." "Well, that wouldn't harm anybody." "I dunno, sir; I dunno," said David thoughtfully. "Why, David, you don't believe in witches and ill-wishing, and all that sort of stuff, do you?" "Me, sir?" cried the gardener; "not likely. But it's just as well to be the safe side o' the hedge, you know, in case there might be something in it." Tom laughed, and David shook his head solemnly. "Why, I believe you do believe in it all," said Tom. "Nay, sir, I don't," cried the old fellow indignantly; "and don't you go saying such things." "Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Tom. "Ah, you may laugh, sir; but Parson Maxted's handsome young Jarsey cow did die." "Well, all cows die some time," cried Tom. "Ay, sir, that's true; but not after old Mother Warboys has stood cussin' for ever so long about the milk." "And did she?" "Ay, that she did, sir, right in the middle o' the road, because the cook give her yes'day's skim-milk instead o' to-day's noo." Tom laughed again. "I say, what about the pears?" "Ay, what about the pears? You wouldn't come down in the dark and keep watch." "Wouldn't I!" cried Tom excitedly. "Besides, we might ketch him, and him fly at you." "I wish he would," said Tom. "And then it would be in the dark." "Of course." "Not till late at night, perhaps." "Well, what of that?" "And maybe he wouldn't come in the night at all, but steal over the wall just before it gets light, when you'd be in your bed. Yes, that's just the sort of time when he would come." "I should have to ask uncle to let me sit up with you, David." "Ah, I thought that would be it," said David; "ask your uncle." "Look here, David," cried Tom, flushing. "I shouldn't say I'd like to come if I didn't mean it. I'm not going to get into trouble by slipping out on the sly." "It's all over," said David. "I thought so. Master'd never let you sit up and watch, sir. I thought you wouldn't." "Well, we'll soon prove that," cried Tom. "Here is uncle." "Yes; what is it?" said Uncle Richard, coming across the garden. "David's afraid of the pears being stolen, uncle, for he saw some one examining them this morning, and he's going to sit up to-night and watch. Do you mind my sitting up too?" "Sitting up? No, I think not, Tom, only mind and don't get hurt. You are more likely to catch a thief at daybreak though, I should say." "Mebbe, sir," said David; "but I think if you didn't mind I'd try to-night first." "By all means, David. I should be sorry to lose those pears again." "There!" cried Tom, as soon as they were alone; "do you think I want to back out now?" David laughed, and rubbed his hands together between his knees. "Come on, Master Tom, and I'll get the billhook. Then we'll go and cut a couple of good young hazel rods in the copse." "Then you won't have broomsticks, David?" "Nay, sir, they'd be too heavy and too stiff. I know the sort--good stout young hazels as won't break when you hit with 'em, but wrop well round." The hazels were cut and carried back to the garden, burdened with their twigs and greenery. "He might be about, and think they was meant for him, if we trimmed 'em into sticks, Master Tom. He won't think anything if he sees 'em like this." The hazels were shortened to a convenient length as soon as they were in the garden, David chuckling loudly the while. "I owe that chap a lot, Master Tom, and if I can get a chance I mean to pay him this time. Hit low, sir, if you get a crack at him." "Not likely to hurt him," said Tom. "More likely, sir. Trousers are thin, 'specially hisn, and they've got some good holes in 'em generally, where you might reach his skin; 'sides, you're not likely to cut his face or injure his eyes. Nothing like hitting low. Now, then, I'm going on with my reg'lar work, and as soon as it's dark I shall be down here in among the blackcurrants, with a couple of old sacks and a horse-cloth, for us to sit on, so as not to ketch rheumatics." "About what time?" said Tom. "Arpus eight, sir. There's no moon to-night so it'll be pretty dark; but we shall hear him." "If he comes," said Tom. "Course, sir, if he comes. But we'll chance that, and if he don't, why we shall know as my pears is safe." _ |
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