"Oh, thanks!" said d.i.c.k, scarcely able to speak for the jumping of his heart, "we"re going to do a trot the first mile or so. Thanks awfully!
Good-bye." And to the amazement of the Grandcourtier, the small pair started to run with their heads down and their fists up, at the rate of seven miles an hour.
"By George," thought he to himself, "some of those Templeton kids go the pace."
The pleasant village of Grandcourt was startled that evening, as the shades of night fell, by the sight of two small boys trotting hard down the High Street, side by side, some three hundred yards in advance of the coach which carried the conquering heroes of Templeton; like eastern couriers who run before the chaise of the great man. But those two heeded neither looks nor jeers; their ears were deaf to the cry of "Stop thief," and shouts of "Two to one on Sandy," stirred no emotions in their fluttering b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Luckily for them the road began uphill, so they were able to get a fair start by the time the village was clear.
When at last they pulled up breathless at the road-side, they could see the lamp of the coach a quarter of a mile down the road, advancing slowly.
"It"s touch and go," said Heathcote, "if we do it without getting nabbed. That wretched light shows up everything."
"Yes, I don"t like it," said d.i.c.k; "we"d better lie down in the ditch, Georgie, till it"s got past. They"ll trot as soon as they get up here on to the level, and we must make a shot at the step. Those fellows inside are sure not to be looking out."
It was an anxious few minutes as the light approached, and shot its rays over the prostrate bodies of the boys in the ditch. They dared not lift their faces as it pa.s.sed, and it was only when, as d.i.c.k had predicted, the walk changed into a trot, that they started from their lurking- place, and gave chase.
"Why," groaned Heathcote, as they came up, "it"s got no step!"
For once, d.i.c.k was gravelled. The idea that the coach was not like all the other coaches had never once crossed his mind; and he felt beaten.
The two unhappy pursuers, however, kept up the chase, pawing the forbidding coach door, very much as kittens paw the outside of a gold- fish bowl.
Alas! there was nothing to lay hold of; not even a handle or a nail!
"Shall we yell?" gasped Heathcote, nearly at the end of his wind.
"Wait a bit. Is there anything underneath we could lay hold of?"
They groped, but, as it seemed, fruitlessly. d.i.c.k, however, stooped again, and next moment turned round radiant.
"There"s a bit of string," said he. "Keep it up, old man, and we"ll get hold of it."
With much diving he succeeded in picking up the end of a casual piece of string that had somehow got its other end fastened to a nut underneath the coach. As quick as thought he whipped out his handkerchief and looped it on to the string. Then Heathcote whipped out his handkerchief and looped it on to d.i.c.k"s, and between them the two held on grimly, and tried to fancy their troubles were at an end.
The support of a piece of stray string at the tail of a coach, supplemented by two pocket-handkerchiefs, may be grateful, but for practical purposes it is at best a flimsy stay, and had it not been for occasional hills at which to breathe, our heroes might have found it out at once.
As it was, they were carried three or four miles on their way by the purely moral support of their holdfast until the last of the hills was climbed, and the long steady slope which led down to Templeton opened before the travellers and reminded the horses of corn and stable. Then a trot began, which put the actual support of the extemporised cable to the test.
Our heroes, worn out already, could not, try all they would, keep it slack. Every step it became tauter and tauter, until at last you might have played a tune upon it. They made one gallant effort to relieve the strain, but, alas! it was no good. There was a crack of the whip ahead, the horses, full of their coming supper, gave a bound forward, and that moment on the lonely road, five miles from home, sprawled Heathcote, with d.i.c.k in his lap, and two knotted pocket-handkerchiefs in the dust at their feet. They had no breath left to shout, no energy to overtake, so they sat there panting, watching the coach vanish into the night and humbly wondering--what next?
"Here"s a soak!" said Heathcote at last, recovering speech and slowly untying his handkerchief from the cable in order to mop his face.
"Yes," said d.i.c.k, getting off his friend"s lap and looking dismally down the road; "our ride home didn"t come off after all."
"We came off, though!" said Heathcote. But he corrected himself as he saw d.i.c.k wearily round upon him. "I mean--I say, what must we do?"
"Stump it," said d.i.c.k. "It"s about five miles."
Heathcote whistled.
"Pity we didn"t cheek it into our own coach," said he. "I say, d.i.c.k, what a row there"ll be!"
"Of course there will," said d.i.c.k. "Have you only just found that out?
Come along; we"ll be late."
Considering it was eight o"clock and they were yet five miles from home, this last observation was sagacious.
They strolled on for half an hour in silence, mending their pace as they recovered their wind, until at the end of that time they had settled down into a steady three-and-a-half miles an hour, and felt rather more like getting home than they had done.
"Another hour will do it," said d.i.c.k. "I say, we might smuggle in after all, Georgie. What a crow if we do, eh?"
Georgie inwardly reflected that there would be a crow of some sort or other whatever happened, but he prudently reserved his opinion and said, "Rather!"
"We ought to come to the cross-roads before long," said d.i.c.k. "I hope to goodness you know which one goes to Templeton."
"No, I don"t; but there"s bound to be a post."
There was a post, but, though they climbed up it and rubbed their eye- lashes along each arm, they could get no guiding out of it. They could see an L on one arm, and an N on another, and a full stop on each of the other two, but, even with this intelligence, they felt that the road to Templeton was still open to doubt, as, indeed, after their wanderings round and round the sign-post, they presently had to admit was the case with the road by which they had just come.
"We"d better make ourselves snug here for the night," said Heathcote, who fully took in the situation.
"That would be coming to a full stop with a vengeance!" said d.i.c.k.
"Shut up; I let you off--and, by Jove, here"s somebody coming!"
The red embers of a pipe, followed by a hulking nautical form, hove slowly in sight as he spoke, and never did a sail cheer the eyes of shipwrecked mariners as did this apparition bring comfort to d.i.c.k and Heathcote.
"I say," said the former, advancing out of the shades and almost startling the unsuspecting salt, "we"ve lost our way. Which road goes to Templeton?"
The big sailor gave a grunt and lay to in an unsteady way, which convinced our heroes, unlearned as they were in such matters, that he wasn"t quite sober.
"What d"yer want ter go ter Templeton fur?" demanded he.
"We belong to the school, and we"ve got left behind."
The sailor laughed an unsympathetic laugh and took his pipe out of his mouth.
"Yer belong to the school, do yer, and yer"ve lost yer way?"
"Yes; can you put us right?"
"Yes, I can put yer right," said the brawny young salt, putting his pipe back between his lips. "What"ll yer stand?"
"We"ll give you a shilling," said d.i.c.k.
"Yer will? Yer"ll give me a sovereign apiece, or I"ll bash yer!"
And he laid a hand on the arm of each of his victims, chuckling and smoking as he looked down on their puny efforts to escape.
"Turn out yer pockets, n.o.bs!" said he, giving them a slight admonitory shake.
"I haven"t got a sovereign," said Heathcote.