Away soared the kites; some of them appeared as if they would never come down again. The Green Dragon rose very high, and must have astonished the birds and beasts of the field, if it did not the human beings in the valley below. The Silver Knight also played his part well up in the skies, so did the General, and many others. Up, up went the Green Dragon, and high soared the Silver Knight; Excelsior was his motto; but high as he went, the Green Dragon went higher.
"Hilloa, Bracebridge, you and your friend should have chosen a different motto for your knight, for the Green Dragon is beating him, and the old Owl is not far behind," exclaimed Lemon, who, while manoeuvring his kite, found himself not far from Ernest.
"Stay a bit," answered Ernest, in a good-natured tone; "perhaps our knight may yet prove that his motto was not ill-chosen. We have not yet got to the end of our line."
Monsieur Malin kept easing out his line, and his monster went slowly upward, but it was evident that the weight of string it had already to bear was almost too much for it, and that it would not carry much more.
It was a brave dragon, however, and in the French master"s skilful hands, it is extraordinary how high it got up. At last it was evident that it was stationary, and required a great deal of manoeuvring to be kept at the height it had attained.
"Now, Bracebridge," cried Ellis, who had worked the Silver Knight up almost as high, "let me have your line."
"All right," answered Bracebridge, hauling down his kite till it was within thirty feet of the ground. "Hook on."
On this Ellis brought the end of his line up to Bracebridge, who fastened it to the string of the Squire, which immediately shot upward, while higher and higher flew the Silver Knight. He reached the Green Dragon, and floated proudly past him. Up he went, higher and higher, till a glittering spot could alone be seen in the blue heavens. Shouts of applause broke from the spectators.
"Now," cried Bracebridge triumphantly, "has not our knight chosen his motto with judgment, Excelsior? See, up he goes higher and higher."
Higher he did go, indeed; and in a short time the glittering spot was lost to view.
"We could easily get our Squire out of sight also, if we could find a line light enough and strong enough to bear the strain of the two kites together, but no string we have got here could bear the strain that would be put upon it," observed Ernest to those who came round to observe the wonder which had been wrought.
Some declared that it was not fair, and that they had no right to fasten the string of one kite to that of another.
"Oh! that"s all nonsense, and you fellows know it well," answered Ernest. "The question to be decided is, which kite can reach the farthest from the earth, and ours has done so. Unless another gets higher, we shall win the prize."
No other kite got even so high as the Green Dragon, so the Silver Knight was most justly declared to be the winner of the prize.
"Froggy Malin"s and those fellows" kites may fly high, but they will not be able to pull anything along," growled out Blackall. "Before they think that they are going to carry off all the prizes, let us see what my kite can do. He looks like a strong, tough fellow, who can pull hard at all events."
Dawson and a few of Blackall"s admirers echoed these sentiments, fully believing that he did not boast without reason of what he would do.
The carriages were now brought forward from a chalk-pit, where they had been concealed, and formed a line in front of the spectators.
Blackall"s was certainly the largest, and not the least gay and gaudy, but more than one person smiled at the notion of its being dragged along by a single kite. None of the carriages could boast of much beauty, but some were very finely painted, and were admired accordingly. When Ernest brought out his vehicle, it was much laughed at, for it had such an odd, spider-like, skeleton look. Still the knowing ones acknowledged that it might have a great deal of go in it.
Most of the line of the kites was now hauled in and wound up. Ernest and Ellis got down the Silver Knight, and fastened some light lines to each of his wings, and brought them down to the carriage. Two or three boys stood round each carriage holding it. At a signal, given by Lemon on his horn, to prepare, they all jumped in. At another, all hands were taken off the carriages, and away most of them went at a fair speed.
One did not move--it was Blackall"s. Who could picture his wrath and indignation? He pulled and pulled at the line; the kite rose somewhat, but wavered about terribly: now it darted to one side, now to the other.
"Come along, Blackall, come along," shouted several of the racers, as they moved on, and left him trying all sorts of useless experiments to make the kite pull and the carriage move. Neither one nor the other could he accomplish. Shouts of laughter reached his ear, and he was conscious that they were caused by his ill success. This only increased his rage and bitterness. He stamped in his anger and impatience till he knocked his feet through the boards which formed the bottom of his carriage. He lost all command over himself. He hallooed; he shouted at his kite; and then he swore great, horrible oaths at the kite, and the carriage, and at the wind, till the voice of the Doctor sounded in his ear, ordering him sternly to get out of the carriage and drag it out of the way. He sulkily obeyed, and wound up the string of his kite, and betook himself to the background, trembling lest the Doctor should have overheard his expressions.
"I say, Dawson,--I say, Smith,--do you think the old one heard what I said?" he asked, as he was going off, and they stood, not liking to desert him altogether, and yet wishing to go on and see the fun.
"I believe you he did, my boy," answered Smith, who had but little of the milk of human kindness in his composition. "You spoke loud enough to be heard half-a-mile off."
"But I say, Bobby, do you think so? Did he hear me? By Jove, I shall get a pretty jobation if he did!" exclaimed the bully, appealing in a whining tone to Dawson.
The wretched, cowardly lad forgot that there was another--a great Omniscient Being--who, at all events, heard him; and that every evil word he had uttered had a.s.suredly been registered in a book whence it would never be erased till the Day of Judgment, when it would be made known to thousands and tens of thousands of astonished and mourning listeners. But such an idea never crossed Blackall"s mind. Had it, perhaps it might have prevented him from uttering the expressions of which he so frequently made use.
Fearful only of the immediate disagreeable consequences should the Doctor have heard him, he retired by himself from the ground; while Dawson, and the few other boys who had hitherto adhered to him, set off in pursuit of the racers.
With shouts of laughter the racers went on. At first the Green Dragon took the lead, followed closely by the Owl, for both the carriages were very light, and the kites were skilfully managed. Each of them had a second kite attached; for, unless there had been a very strong wind, one would scarcely have dragged them on. Monsieur Malin had selected two boys to manage his carriage, and he ran by their side to direct them; for his own weight would have been too great for it. The Knight and Squire followed closely on the first two carriages. They were flying, on starting, somewhat too high; but Ernest hauled in the lines, and the effect was soon perceptible. On went their daddy-long-legs, as he and Ellis called their car, and soon got up to the Owl.
"To-hoo, to-hoo, to-hoo!" cried the directors of the Owl, but the Knight and his Squire pulled away, and the Owl was left astern, and very soon the Green Dragon was overtaken. They, of course, were a.s.sailed with the most horrible hisses, and roars, and strange noises of all sorts; but these did not daunt the Knight and his Squire, who went bravely on.
"Excelsior! excelsior! Hurra! hurra!" shouted Ernest and Ellis, as their car took the lead. Gradually, but surely, it increased its distance from the rest. Monsieur Malin did his best to manoeuvre his kites; so did Lemon and the rest; but they could not manage to overtake the Knight and his Squire, though they hissed, and roared, and shouted with merry peals of laughter between the intervals, calling them to stop, and not go ahead so fast.
"Old Hobson did not deceive us," observed Ellis; "really this carriage goes along capitally."
"He has done us justice, certainly," answered Ernest. "But remember, Ellis, our success is entirely owing to your talent and judgment. You think too little of yourself. Now, hurrah! we shall soon be at the winning-post if the wind holds."
Never were there more merry or noisy racers; except, perhaps, in a donkey race, when the winner is the donkey which comes in last.
"Very easy to win that sort of race," some one will say.
Not at all, though.
In ordinary races, each jockey wishes the horse he rides to win; but, in donkey races,--which I hold to be superior to all others, whether at Goodwood, or Ascot, or Epsom,--each jockey rides his opponent"s donkey, so each is anxious to get in before the other, and, if possible, to leave his own behind.
The wind blew fair; the kites drew capitally; the Green Dragon was, after all, not very far behind the Knight and Squire; and the Owl came too-hooing, close upon the Dragon"s tail; while the General Officer seemed in a great hurry to catch the Owl, and kept singing out "Halt!
halt! right-about-face," and other expressions evidently from a somewhat scanty vocabulary of military terms. The rest of the racers came up pretty thickly one after the other.
As they reached the winning-post, where one of the masters stood ready to mark the time of their arrival, there was a general shout for Blackall and his fat boy.
"Oh, he was last seen in the chalk-pit, hacking him to pieces with his knife, while he seemed inclined to treat his wonderful carriage much in the same way." A boy who had just come up gave this news.
A few expressions of commiseration were uttered by Dawson and others; but in their hearts no one really pitied the bully. How could they?
What had he ever done to win the affection, or regard, or esteem of any one of his school-fellows? Certainly, to those with whom he a.s.sociated and whom he patronised, he had ever done far more harm than good; and of this most of them were aware at the time, though they might not be willing to acknowledge it to themselves; and bitterly were they conscious of it before many years were past, when they reaped the fruits of his pernicious example. Several sunk into early and dishonoured graves: others lived, ruined in health and const.i.tution, to bemoan the fate which their folly and vice had brought on them. But to return to our merry racers.
They were called up forthwith to receive their prizes. The most valuable were some serviceable fishing-rods, reels, lines, fishing-baskets, a couple of bows, and the various accoutrements required in archery, a good bat or two, and similar things valued by boys.
The Doctor made a very neat speech, and complimented them all on the skill and talent displayed both in kites and carriages.
"Especially I must compliment you, Bracebridge, on the beauty of your kites, and the skill with which you have managed them."
"Not me, sir, but Ellis deserves the praise," answered Ernest in a clear, loud voice, so that every one might hear. "He is a very clever fellow, sir, only he does not know it. He thought of the carriages and the kites, and, indeed, of every thing; I merely helped him. I joined him because I knew that by himself he would be too diffident to carry out his own plans. I was his a.s.sistant, that was all."
"I am glad to hear you thus speak of Ellis, but you equally deserve the prize, although you only aided him in carrying out his plans. I have, therefore, to present you with this bow, and all the equipments complete; and you, Ellis, with this fishing-rod, and all the accompanying gear."
Ernest, who was perfectly free from timidity, and always expressed himself well, made a very appropriate reply; and, at poor Ellis"s earnest request, spoke for him also, and said a great deal more in his favour than he would have done himself.
Monsieur Malin seemed as much pleased at getting a prize as were any of the boys. A capital fishing-rod was presented to him; and he invited all who had rods to accompany him some day on a grand fishing expedition. Altogether, the kite-flying was most successful; and a stout old gentleman, one of the umpires, expressed a hope that next year they might all enjoy a similar treat; and that he was not at all certain that he should not try to get half-a-dozen kites and a carriage, with which he might join in the race. Several merry voices shouted "We hope you will, sir,--we hope you will." And that made him so enthusiastic that he promised, if he possibly could, to do as he had proposed.
They all went back to a capital, grand half-holiday tea, which was very different to the ordinary meal of bread-and-b.u.t.ter; and consisted of cakes, and sandwiches, and meat-pies, and sausages, and all sorts of substantial productions likely to satisfy the appet.i.tes of hungry boys.
The only person who did not enjoy the day was Blackall. He came back expecting every instant to be called up by the Doctor; but bed-time came, and he was not summoned. As he was on his way to his room he met Ellis, who was about to pa.s.s him without looking at him, or in any way taking notice of him.
"What do you mean by grinning at me, you young scamp?" exclaimed Blackall suddenly.
"I did not intentionally alter a muscle of my countenance," answered Ellis quietly. "Did you, however, address me?"