"She may like to have it. Especially if she never sees him again."
"Make haste, then, and take a lock. It"s quite romantic. I am going to put a match to it."
I chose the longest piece I could see, put it into an envelope, and fastened it up. Tod turned the hair into his wash-hand basin, and set it alight: the grate was filled up with the summer shavings. A frizzling and fizzing set in at once: and very soon a rare smell of singeing.
"Open the window, Johnny."
I had hardly opened it, when the handle of the door was turned and turned, and the panel thumped at. Hannah"s voice came shrieking through the keyhole.
"Mr. Joseph!--Master Johnny! Are you both in there? What"s the matter?"
"What should be the matter?" called back Tod, putting his hand over my mouth that I should not speak. "Go back to your nursery."
"There"s something burning! My goodness! it"s just as if all the blankets in the house were singeing! You"ve been setting your blankets on fire, Mr. Joseph!"
"And if I have!" cried Tod, blowing away at the hair to make it burn the quicker. "They are not yours."
"Good patience! you"ll burn us all up, sir! Fire--fire!" shrieked out Hannah, frightened beyond her wits. "For goodness" sake, Miss Lena, keep away from the keyhole! Here, ma"am! Ma"am! Here"s Mr. Joseph with all his blankets on fire!"
Mrs. Todhetley ran up the stairs, and her terrified appeal came to our ears through the door. Tod threw it open. The hair had burnt itself out.
"Why don"t you go off for the parish engine?" demanded Tod of Hannah, as they came sniffing in. "Well, where"s the fire?"
"But, my dears, something must be singeing," said Mrs. Todhetley. "Where is it?--what is it?"
"It can"t be anything but the blankets," cried Hannah, choking and stifling. "Miss Lena, then, don"t I tell you to keep outside, out of harm"s way? Well, it is strong!"
Mrs. Todhetley put her hand on my arm. "Johnny, what is it? Where is the danger?"
"There"s no danger at all," struck in Tod. "I suppose I can burn some old fishing-tackle rubbish in my basin if I please--horsehair, and that.
You should not have the grates filled with paper, ma"am, if you don"t like the smell."
She went to the basin, found the smell did come from it, and then looked at us both. I was smiling, and it rea.s.sured her.
"You might have taken it to the kitchen and burnt it there, Joseph," she said mildly. "Indeed, I was very much alarmed."
"Thanks to Hannah," said Tod. "You"d have known nothing about it but for her. I wish you"d just order her to mind her own business."
"It was my business, Mr. Joseph--smelling all that frightful smell of singeing! And if---- Why, whose boots are these?" broke off Hannah.
Opening the closet to get out the hair, we had left Fred"s boots exposed. Hannah"s eyes, ranging themselves round in search of the singeing, had espied them. She answered her own question.
"You must have brought them from school in your box by mistake. Mr.
Joseph. These are men"s boots, these are!"
"I can take them back to school again," said Tod, carelessly.
So that pa.s.sed off. "And it is the best thing we can do with the boots, Johnny, as I think," he said to me in a low tone when we were once more left to ourselves. "We can"t burn them. They"d make a choicer scent than the hair made."
"I suppose they wouldn"t fit Mack?"
Tod laughed.
"If he kept those other "beautiful boots" for high days and holidays, what would he not keep these for? No, Johnny; they are too slender for Mack"s foot."
"I wonder how poor Fred likes his clumsy ones?--how he contrives to tramp it in them?"
"I would give something to know that he was clear out of the country."
Dashing over to the Parsonage under pretence of saying good-bye to the children, I gave the envelope containing the lock of hair to Edna, telling her what it was. The colour rushed into her face, the tears to her eyes.
"Thank you, Johnny," she said softly. "Yes, I shall like to keep it--just a little memorial of him. Most likely we shall never meet again."
"I should just take up the other side of the question, Edna, and look forward to meeting him."
"Not here, at any rate," she answered. "How could he ever come back to England with this dreadful charge hanging over him? Good luck to you this term, Johnny Ludlow. Sometimes I think our school-days are our happiest."
We were to dine in the middle of the day, and start for school at half-past two. Tod boldly asked the Squire to give him a sovereign, apart from any replenishing of his pockets that might take place at starting. He wanted it for a particular purpose, he said.
And the pater, after holding forth a bit about thrift versus extravagance, handed out the sovereign. Tod betook himself to the barn.
There sat Mack on the inverted wheelbarrow, at his dinner of cold bacon and bread, and looking most disconsolate.
"Found the things, Mack?"
"Me found "em, Mr. Joseph! No, sir; and I bain"t ever likely to find "em, that"s more. They are clean walked off, they are. When I thinks o"
them there beautiful boots, and that there best smock-frock, I be fit to choke, I be!"
Tod was fit to choke, keeping his countenance. "What was their value, Mack?"
"They were of untold val"e, sir, to me. I"d not hardly ha" lost "em for a one-pound note."
"Would a pound replace them?"
Mack, drawing his knife across the bread and bacon, looked up. Tod spoke more plainly.
"Could you buy new ones with a pound?"
"Bless your heart, sir, and where be I to get a pound from? I was just a-calkelating how long it "ud take me to save enough money up----"
"I wish you"d answer my question, Mack. Would a pound replace the articles that have been stolen?"
"Why, in course it would, sir," returned Mack, staring. "But where be I----"
"Don"t bother. Look here: there"s a pound"--tossing the sovereign to him. "Buy yourself new ones, and think no more of the old ones."
Mack could not believe his eyes or ears. "Oh, Mr. Joseph! Well, I never!
Sir, you be----"