But even Janet herself was observed to blow her own nose very often, and to offer Hugh John the small garden hoe instead of the neatly wrapped new silk umbrella she had bought for him out of her own money.
And all the while Sir Toady Lion kept on carrying milk and fresh lettuce leaves to his stupid lop-eared rabbits. Yet it was by no means insensibility which kept him thus busied. He was only playing his usual lone hand.
Yet even Toady Lion was not without his own proper sense of the importance of the occasion.
"There"s a funny fing "at you wants to see at the stile behind the stable," he remarked casually to Hugh John, as he went past the front door with an armful of hay for bedding, "but I promised not to tell w"at it is."
Immediately Hugh John slunk out, ran off in an entirely different direction, circled about the "office houses," reached the stile behind the stable--and there, with her eyes very big, and her underlip quivering strangely, he discovered Cissy Carter.
He stopped short and looked at her. The pressure of having to say farewell, or of making a stated speech of any kind, weighed heavily upon him. The two looked at each other like young wild animals--or as if they were children who had never been introduced, which is the same thing.
"Hugh John Picton, you don"t care!" sobbed Cissy at last. "And I don"t care either!" she added haughtily, commanding herself after a pathetic little pause.
"I do, I do," answered Hugh John vehemently, "only every fellow has to. Sammy is going too, you know!"
"Oh, I don"t care a b.u.t.ton for Sammy!" was Cissy"s most unsisterly speech.
Hugh John tried to think of something to say. Cissy was now sobbing quietly and persistently, and that did not seem to help him.
"Say, don"t now, Ciss! Stop it, or you"ll make me cry too!"
"You don"t care! You don"t love me a bit! You know you don"t!"
"I do--I do," protested the hero, in despair, "there--there--_now_ you can"t say I don"t care."
"But you"ll be so different when you come back, and you"ll have lost your half of the crooked sixpence."
"I won"t, for true, Cissy--and I shan"t ever look at another girl nor play horses with them even if they ask me ever so."
"You will, I know you will!"
A rumble of wheels, a shout from the front door--"Hugh John--wherever can that boy have got to?"
"Good-bye, Ciss, I must go. Oh hang it, don"t go making a fellow cry.
Well, I _will_ say it then, "I love you, Ciss!" There--will that satisfy you?"
[Ill.u.s.tration: "A SLIM BUNDLE OF LIMP WOE."]
Something lit on the end of Cissy"s nose, which was very red and wet with the tears that had run down it. There was a clatter of feet, and the Lord of Creation had departed. Cissy sank down behind the stone wall, a slim bundle of limp woe, done up in blue serge trimmed with scarlet.
The servants were gathered in the hall. Several of the maids were already wet-eyed, for Hugh John had "the way with him" that made all women want to "mother" him. Besides, he had no mother of his own.
"Good-bye, Master Hugh!" they said, and sniffed as they said it.
"Good-bye, everybody," cried the hero, "soon be back again, you know."
He said this very loudly to show that he did not care. He was going down the steps with Prissy"s fingers clutched in his, and every one was smiling. All went merry as a marriage bell--never had been seen so jovial a way-going.
"_Ugh--ugh--ugh!_" somebody in the hall suddenly sobbed out from among the white caps of the maids.
"Go upstairs instantly, Jane. Don"t disgrace yourself!" cried Janet Sheepshanks sharply, stamping her foot. For the sound of Jane"s sudden and shameful collapse sent the other maids" ap.r.o.ns furtively up to their eyes.
And Janet Sheepshanks had no ap.r.o.n. Not that she needed one--of course not.
"Come on, Hugh John--the time is up!" said his father from the side of the dog-cart, where (somewhat ostentatiously) he had been refastening straps which Mike had already done to a nicety.
At this moment Toady Lion pa.s.sed with half a dozen lettuce leaves. He was no more excited "than nothing at all," as Prissy indignantly said afterwards.
"Good-bye, Toady Lion," said Hugh John, "you can have my other bat and the white rat with the pink eyes."
Toady Lion stood with the lettuce leaves in his arms, looking on in a bored sort of way. Prissy could have slapped him if her hands had not been otherwise employed.
He did not say a word till his brother was perched up aloft on the dog-cart with his cricket bat nursed between his knees and a new hard-hat pulled painfully over his eyes. Then at last Toady Lion spoke. "Did "oo find the funny fing behind the stable, Hugh John?"
Before Hugh John had time to reply, the dog-cart drove away amid sharp explosions of grief from the white-capped throng. Jane Housemaid dripped sympathy from a first-floor window till the gravel was wet as from a smart shower. Toady Lion alone stood on the steps with his usual expression of bored calmness. Then he turned to Prissy.
"Why is "oo so moppy?"
"Oh, you go away--you"ve got no heart!" said Prissy, and resumed her luxury of woe.
If Toady Lion had been a Gallic boy, we should have said that he shrugged his shoulders. At all events, he smiled covertly to the lettuces as he moved off in the direction of the rabbit-hutches.
"It was a _very_ funny fing w"at was behind the stable," he said. For Sir Toady Lion was a humorist. And you can"t be a humorist without being a little hard-hearted. Only the heart of a professional writer of pathos can be one degree harder.
CHAPTER x.x.xVII.
THE GOOD CONDUCT PRIZE.
It was three years after. Sometimes three years makes a considerable change in grown-ups. More often it leaves them pretty much where they were. But with boys and girls the world begins all over again every two years at most. So the terms went and came, and at each vacation, instead of returning home, Hugh John went to London. For it so happened that the year he had left for school the house of Windy Standard was burned down almost to the ground, and Mr. Picton Smith took advantage of the fact to build an entirely new mansion on a somewhat higher site.
The first house might have been saved had the Bounding Brothers been in the neighbourhood, or indeed any active and efficient helpers. But the nearest engine was under the care of the Edam fire brigade, who upon hearing of the conflagration, with great enthusiasm ran their engine a quarter of a mile out of the town by hand. Then their ardour suddenly giving out, they sat down and had an amicable smoke on the roadside till the horse was brought to drag the apparatus the rest of the distance.
But alas! the animal was too fat to be got between the shafts, so it had to be sent back and a leaner horse forwarded. Meantime the house of Windy Standard was blazing merrily, and when the Edam fire company finally arrived, the ashes were still quite hot.
So in this way it came about that it was three long years before Hugh John again saw the h.o.a.ry battlements of the ancient strength on the castle island which he and his army had attacked so boldly. There were great changes in the town itself. The railway had come to Edam, and now steamed and snorted under the very walls of the Abbey. Chimneys had multiplied, and the smoke columns were taller and denser. The rubicund Provost had gone the way of all the earth, even of all provosts! And the leading bailie, one Donnan, a butcher and army contractor, sat with something less of dignity but equal efficiency in his magisterial chair.
Hugh John from the station platform saw something of this with a sick heart, but he was sure that out in the pure air and infinite quiet of Windy Standard he would find all things the same. But a new and finer house shone white upon the hill. Gardens flourished on unexpected places with that appearance of having been recently planted, frequently pulled up by the roots, looked at and put back, which distinguishes all new gardens. Here and there white-painted vineries and conservatories winked ostentatiously in the sun.
What a time Hugh John had been planning they would have! For months he had thought of nothing but this. Toady Lion and he would do all over again those famous deeds of daring he had done at the castle. Again they would attack the island. Other secret pa.s.sages would be discovered. All would be as it had been--only nicer. And Cissy Carter--more than everything else he had looked forward to meeting Cissy. Prissy had seen her often, and even during the last week she had written to Hugh John (Prissy always did like to write letters) that Cissy Carter was just splendid--so much older and _so_ improved.
Cissy was now nearly seventeen, being (as before) a year and three months older than Hugh John.
Now the distinguished military hero had not been much troubled with sentiment during his school terms. Soldiers at the front never are. He was fully occupied in doing his lessons fairly. He got on well with "the fellows." He was anxious to keep up his end in the games. But, for all that, during these years he had sacredly kept the half of the crooked sixpence in his box, hidden in the end of a tie which he never wore. Now, however, he had looked it out, and by dint of hammering his imagination, he had managed to squeeze out an amount of feeling which quite astonished himself.
He would be n.o.ble, generous, forbearing. He remembered how faithfully Cissy had loved him, and how unresponsive he had been in the past. He resolved that all would be very different now.