"It"s the strap," he said. "I ha" got to take it to Cawson"s."
"Oh, I"ll step round with that. Let"s see what there is to do."
He seemed unwilling, saying he must take it back to Hall in the morning.
Very well, I said, so he could. We went in at his door; and at first I thought I must have got into a black fog. The room was a narrow, poking place; but I couldn"t see across it. Two children were coughing, one choking, one crying. Mrs. Mitchel"s face, ornamented with blacks, gradually loomed out to view through the atmosphere.
"It be the chimbley, sir. I hope you"ll please to excuse it. It don"t smoke as bad as this except when the weather"s cold beyond common."
"It"s to be hoped it doesn"t. I should call it rather miserable if it did."
"Yes, sir. Mitchel, he says he thinks the chimbley must have frozed."
"Look here, Mrs. Mitchel, I"ve brought d.i.c.k home: I found him sitting in the cold on the other side of the stile, and my belief is, he thought he could not get over it. He is about as weak as a young rat."
"It"s the frost, sir," she said. "The boys all feel it that has to be out and about. It"ll soon be gone, d.i.c.k. This here biting cold don"t never last long."
d.i.c.k was standing against her, bending his face on her old stuff gown.
She put her arm about him kindly.
"No, it can"t last long, Mrs. Mitchel. Could he not be kept indoors until it gives a bit--let him have a holiday? No? Wouldn"t it do?"
She opened her eyes wide at this. Such a thing as keeping a ploughboy at home for a holiday, had never entered her imagination.
"Why, Master Ludlow, sir, he"d lose his place!"
"But, suppose he were ill, and had to stay at home?"
"Then the Lord help us, if it came to that! Please, sir, his wages might be stopped. I"ve heard of a master paying in illness, though it"s not many of "em as would, but I"ve never knowed "em pay for holidays. The biting cold will go soon, d.i.c.k," she added, looking at him; "don"t be downhearted."
"I should give him a cup of hot tea, Mrs. Mitchel, and let him go to bed. Good night; I"m off."
I should have liked to say beer instead of tea; it would have put a bit of strength into the boy; but I might just as well have suggested wine, for all they had of either. Leaving the strap at the blacksmith"s--it was but a minute or two out of my road--I told him to send it up to Mitchel"s as soon as it was done.
"I dare say!" was what I got in answer.
"Look here, Cawson: the lad"s ill, and his father was not in the way. If you don"t choose to let your boy run up with that, or take it yourself, you shall never have another job of work from the Squire if I can prevent it."
"I"ll send it, sir," said Cawson, coming to his senses. Not that he had much from us: we chiefly patronized Dovey, down in Piefinch Cut.
Now, all this happened: as Duffham and others could testify if necessary; it is not put in to make up a story. But I never thought worse of d.i.c.k than that he was done over for the moment with the cold.
Of all days in remembrance, the next was the worst. The cold was more intense--though that had seemed impossible; and a fierce wind was blowing that cut you in two. It kept us from skating--and that"s saying a good deal. We got half-way to the lake, and couldn"t stand it, so turned home again. Jacobson"s team was out, braving the weather: we saw it at a distance.
"What a fool that waggoner must be to bring out the team to-day!" cried Tod. "He can"t do any good on this hard ground. He must be doing it for bravado. It is a sign his master"s not at home."
In the afternoon, when a good hot meal had put warmth into us, we thought we"d be off again; and this time gained the pond. The wind was like a knife; I never skated in anything like it before; but we kept on till dusk.
Going homewards, in pa.s.sing Glebe Cottage, which lay away on the left, we caught sight of three or four people standing before it.
"What"s to do there?" asked Tod of a man, expecting to hear that old Mrs. Parry had had a second stroke.
"Sum"at"s wrong wi" Jacobson"s ploughboy," was the answer. "He has just been took in there."
"Jacobson"s ploughboy! Why, Tod, that must be d.i.c.k Mitchel."
"And what if it is!" returned Tod, starting off again. "The youngster"s half frozen, I dare say. Let us get home. Johnny. What are you stopping for?"
By saying "half frozen" he meant nothing. Not a thought of real ill was in his mind. I went across to the house; and met Hall the ploughman coming out of it.
"Is d.i.c.k Mitchel ill, Hall?"
"He ought to be, sir; if he bain"t shamming," returned Hall, crustily.
"He have fell down five times since noon, and the last time wouldn"t get up upon his feet again nohow. Being close a-nigh the old lady"s I carried of him in."
Hall went back to the house with me. I don"t think he much liked the boy"s looks. d.i.c.k had been put to lie on the warm brick floor before the kitchen fire, a blanket on his legs, and his head on a cushion. Mrs.
Parry was ill in bed upstairs. The servant looked a stupid young country girl, seemingly born without wits.
"Have you given him anything?" I asked her.
"Please, sir, I"ve put the kettle on to bile."
"Is there any brandy in the house?"
"_Brandy!_" the girl exclaimed with wonder. No. Her missis never took anything stronger nor tea and water gruel.
"Hall," I said, looking at the man, "some one must go for Mr. Duffham.
And d.i.c.k"s mother might as well be told."
Bill Leet, a strapping young fellow standing by, made off at this, saying he"d bring them both. Hall went away to his team, and I stooped over the boy.
"What is the matter, d.i.c.k? Tell me how you feel."
Except that d.i.c.k smiled a little, he made no answer. His eyes, gazing up into mine, looked dim. The girl had taken away the candle, but the fire was bright. As I took one of his hands to rub it, his fingers clasped themselves round mine. Then he began to say something, with a pause between each word. I had to bend close to catch it.
"He--brought--that--there--strap."
"All right, d.i.c.k."
"Thank--ee--sir."
"Are you in any pain, d.i.c.k?"
"No."
"Or cold?"
"No."
The girl came back with a candle and some hot milk in a tea-cup. I put a teaspoonful into d.i.c.k"s mouth. But he could not swallow it. Who should come rushing in then but old Jones the constable, wanting to know what was up.