A Hero of Romance Part 24

"Mecklemburg House Collegiate School."

Bertie informed them of the name and t.i.tle of Mr. Fletcher's educational establishment with what he intended to be his grandest air, with a possible intention of impressing them with its splendour.

"There's a mouthful," commented Sam. "Oh my eye!"

The lady's reception of Bertie's information was more courteous.

"There's a beautiful name for a school. And where might it be?"

"It's not very far from Cobham. But I don't live there."

"No, my dear. And where do you live, my lovey?"

The lady became more affectionate in her t.i.tles of endearment as she went on. Mr. Jenkins, leaning over the head of the bed, listened with all his ears; but on his countenance was a delighted grin.

"I live at Upton."

"Upton," said the lady, and glanced at Mr. Jenkins behind the bed. Mr.

Jenkins winked at her.

"My father's a doctor; he keeps two horses and a carriage; everybody knows him there; he's the best doctor in the place."

"And is your mother alive, my dear?"

"I should rather think she was, and won't she go it when she knows I've run away!"

"Dear now, think of that! I shouldn't be surprised if she was very fond of you, my dear. And I daresay, now, she'd give a deal of money to any one who told her where you were."

"I should think she would. I daresay she'd give--I daresay she'd give----" he searched his imagination for the largest sum of which he could think; he desired to impress his audience with an idea of the family importance and wealth. "I daresay she'd give a thousand pounds." His hearers stared. "But she's not likely to know, for there's no one to tell her."

This statement seemed to tickle Mr. Jenkins and Sam so much, that with one accord they burst into a roar of laughter. Bertie glowered.

"Never mind them, my lovey; it's their bad manners, they don't know no better. I'll soon send them away. Now, out you go, going on with your ridiculous nonsense, and he such a brave young gentleman; I'm ashamed of you;--get away, the two of you."

Mr. Jenkins and Sam obediently went, stifling their laughter on the way. But apparently when they were outside they gave free vent to their sense of humour, for their peals of mirth came through the door.

"Never mind them, my dear; you undress yourself and get into bed, and have a nice long sleep, and be sure you have a friend in me. My name's Jenkins, lovey, Eliza Jenkins, and that there silly man's my husband.

By the way, you haven't told me what your name is, my dear."

"My name's Bailey, Bertie Bailey."

"Dear now, and you're the son of the famous Dr. Bailey of Upton. Think of that now."

She left him to think of it, for immediately after Mrs. Jenkins followed her husband and Sam. Bertie, left alone, hesitated for a moment or two as to what he should do. He tried to think, but thought was just then an exercise beyond his powers. The events of the last few hours were presented in a sort of kaleidoscopic picture to his mind's eye. There was nothing clear. He found a difficulty in realizing where he was. As he looked round the unfamiliar room, with its scanty furniture, and that of the poorest and most tawdry cla.s.s, he found it difficult not to persuade himself that he saw it in a dream.

All the events of the day seemed to have been the incidents of a dream. Mecklemburg House seemed to be a house he had seen in a dream.

He seemed to have left it in a dream. That walk along the moonlit road had been a walk in a dream. He had driven with Mr. George Washington Bankes in a dream. He had possessed five pounds in a dream; had lost it in a dream; had been to the circus in a dream; the Original Badger and his friends were the characters seen in a dream--a dream which had been the long nightmare of a day.

One thing was certain, he was sleepy; on that point he was clear. He could hardly keep his eyes open, and his head from sinking on his breast. As in a dream he lazily undressed; as in a dream he got into the bed; and once into the bed he was almost instantly wrapped in a sound and dreamless slumber.

He was awoke by the sound of voices. It seemed to him that he had only slept five minutes, but it was broad daylight; the sun was shining into the room, and, almost immediately after he opened his eyes, the clock of Kingston church struck twelve. It was high noon.

But he was not yet fully roused. He lay in that delicious state of languor which is neither sleep nor waking. The owners of the voices were evidently not aware that he was even partially awakened. They went on talking with perfect absence of restraint, entirely unsuspicious of there being any listener near. The speakers were Mr.

and Mrs. Jenkins.

"It's all nonsense about the thousand pounds; a thousand pence will be nearer the thing; but even a thousand pence is not very far off a five-pound note, and a five-pound note's worth having."

Mr. Jenkins ceased, and Mrs. Jenkins took up the strain. Bertie, lying in his delightful torpor, heard it all; though he was not at first conscious that he was himself the theme of his host and hostess's conversation.

"He says his father keeps two horses and a carriage; he must be tidy off. If his mother's fond of him, she wouldn't mind paying liberal to hear his whereabouts. If you goes down and tells her how you took him in without a penny in his pockets, not so much as fourpence to pay for his bed--which it's against our rule to take in anybody who doesn't pay his money in advance--and how he was ill and all, there's no knowing but what she wouldn't pay you handsome for putting her on his track and all."

"It's worth trying anyhow. Dr. Bailey, you say, is the name?"

"He says his own name is Bertie Bailey, and his father's name is Dr.

Bailey."

Bertie p.r.i.c.ked up his ears at the sound of his name, and began to wonder.

"And his home is Upton? There don't seem no railway at this here Upton. Slough seems the nearest station, because I asked them at the booking office, and there's a tidy bit to walk."

"Don't you walk it. You take a cab and drive. Make out as how there wasn't no time to lose, and as how you thought the mother's heart was a longing for her son. Do the thing in style. If there don't nothing else come of it they'll have to pay your expenses handsome."

"I'm not going all that way for my expenses, so I'll let them know!

They'll have to make it worth my while before I tell them where to lay their finger on the kid."

Bertie wondered more and more. He still lay motionless, but by now he was wide awake. It dawned upon him what was the meaning of the conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were apparently about to take advantage of his incautious frankness to betray him for the sake of a reward. He had a dim recollection of having blurted out more than he intended; and, on the strength of the information he had thus obtained, Mr. Jenkins was going to pay a little visit to his home.

"Don't you be afraid," went on the lady, "I tell you they'll pay up handsome. You and me, perhaps, wouldn't make much fuss if one of our young 'uns was to cut and run, but gentlefolks is different. It isn't likely that a lady can like the thought of a boy of hers knocking about in the gutter, and trying his luck in the ditch. Just you put your hat on, and you go straight to this here Upton, and you see if it isn't the best day's work you've ever done. I'll go fast enough, if you've not started soon."

Mr. Jenkins did not seem to like this idea at all; his tone was a little sulky.

"You needn't put yourself out, Eliza; I'm a-going."

"Then why don't you go, instead of standing wool gathering there?"

"You don't know his address. What am I to ask for when I get to this here Upton?"

"Why, ask for Dr. Bailey; it's only a little place. You'll find he's as well known as the church clock, and perhaps better."

"And about the boy; what are you going to do when he wakes up?"

"I'll look after him. Don't you trouble your head about the boy; you'll find him here when you come back as safe as houses."

"All right, Eliza, I'm off; and by to-night, I shouldn't be surprised if Master Bertie Bailey, Esquire, was returned to his fond parent's arms."

His tone was jocular; but the expression of his countenance was not exactly genial when Master Bertie Bailey sat up in bed, as he did at this identical moment, and looked his host and hostess in the face.