Of course I could not answer.
"Do you hear? What are you so quiet about?"
It only added to my misery to know that there was a fellow-being so close at hand, and yet that I was powerless to make him aware of my condition. My silence offended him, for he turned away, muttering to himself,--
"Sulky humbug! I declare some people haven"t so much as the manners of a kitchen clock."
After that I was left to myself, in agony and suspense, to wait the moment of my dissolution.
A long time pa.s.sed before my master stirred, and when he did the housekeeper"s tea was cold. She bustled about to make him some more, and was so kind in b.u.t.tering his toast and hunting for some jam, that the drooping spirits of the tired-out boy revived wonderfully. Indeed, as the meal proceeded he became on friendly and confidential terms even with so awful a personage as Mrs Packer.
"Would you like to see my knife, ma"am?" he asked.
"Bless me, what a knife it is," cried the lady. "You"ll go doing yourself some harm with it."
"That"s what the other old lady in the train said," replied Charlie, unconscious of wounding the feelings of his hostess, who fondly imagined she was not more than middle-aged; "but then, you know, she thought it was a fine knife, and I think so too, don"t you? I say, marm, do you know Tom Drift?"
The change of subject was so sudden that Mrs Packer stared at the boy, half wondering whether he was not talking in his sleep.
"What about him?" she inquired.
"Oh, only the old lady was his mother, and I promised her--at least she said--do you know Tom Drift, ma"am?"
"To be sure; he"s one of the boys here."
"Yes--I say, ma"am, might I see Tom Drift, do you think? I"ve got something to say to him."
Mrs Packer, wholly at a loss to understand her youthful guest, but at the same time disposed to be indulgent to his little whims, said Tom would be at lessons now, and she didn"t think he would be able to come.
"Wouldn"t it do in the morning?"
"Oh no," said Charlie, with the gravest face. "I must see him to-night, please, if you don"t mind."
The housekeeper concluded that Charlie had some important message from the mother to her son, and therefore rang for a servant, whom she despatched with a message to Master Drift that some one wanted to see him.
In a very little time that hero made his appearance; and as he was the first Randlebury boy Charlie had set eyes on, he appeared for a moment a very awful and a very sublime personage in that little new boy"s eyes.
But Charlie was too intent on his mission to allow himself to be quite overawed.
"Here"s a new boy, Master Drift, wants to speak to you."
"What do you want, young un--eh?"
"Oh, it"s all right, Tom Drift; only I saw your mother, you know, in the train, and she said you were a nice boy, and she sent her love, and I told her I"d let you know the time whenever you wanted, because you ain"t got a watch, you know, and I have. I say, would you like to know the time now, Tom Drift?"
All this was rattled out with such eager volubility, that Tom Drift, hero as he was, was fairly taken aback, and looked quite sheepish, as the beaming boy proceeded to pull me out of his pocket.
"Well, it"s just--hullo!"
He saw in an instant something was wrong.
"Why, it says only half-past six--that must be wrong!"
"It"s eight o"clock by the hall clock," said Mrs Packer; "it"s just now struck."
Charlie looked at me, opened me, held me to his ear, and then exclaimed,--
"Oh! my watch has stopped! My watch has stopped! What shall I do?" and the poor boy, overwhelmed with his misfortune, held me out appealingly, and scarcely restrained the tears which started to his eyes.
CHAPTER FOUR.
HOW I WAS CURED OF MY AILMENTS, AND HOW MY MASTER BEGAN LIFE AT RANDLEBURY.
All this while Tom Drift had said nothing, but had stood regarding first my master, and then me, with mingled amus.e.m.e.nt, pity, and astonishment.
At last, when poor Charlie fairly thrust me into his hands, that he might see with his own eyes the calamity which had befallen the watch that had been destined to minister such consolation to his time- inquiring mind, he took me gingerly, and stared at me as if I had been a toad or a dead rat.
"Can"t you make it go, Tom Drift? Please do."
"How can I make him go? I don"t know what"s the row."
"Do you think it would be a good thing to wind it up?" asked Charlie.
"Don"t know; you might try."
Charlie did wind me up; but that was not what I wanted. Already I had had that done while waiting at Gunborough Junction.
"What do you say to shaking him?" asked Tom Drift presently. Most people spoke of me as "it," but Tom Drift always called me "him."
"I hardly like," said Charlie; "_you_ try."
Tom took me and solemnly shook me; it was no use. I still remained speechless and helpless.
"Suppose we shove his wheels on?" next suggested that sage philosopher.
Charlie demurred a little at this; it seemed almost too bold a remedy, even for him; however he yielded to Tom"s superior judgment.
The heir of the house of Drift accordingly took a pin from the lining of his jacket, and, taking off my coat and waistcoat, proceeded first to prod one of my wheels and then another, but in vain. They just moved for an instant but then halted again, as stiff end lifeless as ever.
For a moment the profound Tom seemed baffled, and then at last a brilliant idea occurred to him.
"I tell you what, I expect he"s got damp, or cold, or something. We"d better warm him!"
And the two boys knelt before the fire with me between them, turning me at the end of my chain so as to get the warmth on all sides, like a leg of mutton on a spit.
Of course that had no effect. What was to be done? No winding up, no shaking, no irritation of my wheels with a pin, no warming of me at the fire, could avail anything. They were ready to give me up. Suddenly, however, Tom, who had been examining my face minutely, burst into a loud laugh.
"What a young donkey you are!" he cried. "Don"t you see his hands are caught? That"s what"s the matter. The minute-hand"s got bent, and can"t get over the hour hand. You"re a nice chap to have a watch!"