A Tale of the Summer Holidays Part 6

"I did ask nurse to advance me some money when I came home," he said in self-defence, "but she would not."

Drusie a.s.sured him again that she had not expected a present, and begged him not to say anything more about it. And so nothing more was said; and although Helen was burning to ask him what he had done with his shilling, she remembered her promise to Drusie, and did not make any unpleasant inquiries.

Half an hour later Drusie and Jim, having fed all the animals, were loitering on the sunny terrace together when Hal, looking very spick and span in a clean suit of flannels, came out with his bat under his arm.

"I suppose you are going to play cricket," said Drusie in a tone from which she tried to keep the wistfulness she felt.

"Well, yes; I am," said Hal, carefully avoiding the reproachful gaze of Jim's brown eyes. "Dodds wanted me particularly, or else, you know, Drusie, I should have stayed with you, and done what we always do on our birthdays."

This explanation was meant as a sort of apology, and Drusie never could bear any one, especially Hal, to apologize to her.

"It doesn't matter, Hal," she said generously, winking away a troublesome tear that would tremble on her eyelashes. "You have a right to enjoy yourself in your holidays, and, of course, you are bigger than all of us now."

"Do you mind very much about my going, Drusie?" Hal said suddenly; "for, if you do, I will throw Dodds over, and come and defend the fort."

A flash of joy pa.s.sed over Drusie's face, but the next moment it died out, and she shook her head. She knew her brother better than he knew himself, and she was sure that, if he gave up his own wishes for theirs, he would regret it long before the morning was over.

"No, Hal," she said. "If you promised Dodds, you ought to go."

"Well, don't say that _I_ did not offer," said Hal, very much relieved that the offer had not been accepted.

"No, I won't; and it was very good of you," said Drusie warmly; and Hal, feeling that he had behaved very generously, went on his way whistling a cheerful tune.

"It is a good thing that Helen was not here," said Jim, "or Master Hal would not have got off so easily. I know she is burning to give him a piece of her mind."

"Oh, I hope she won't," said Drusie, in real distress; "and he has been so nice about it. You heard him offering to stay, Jim?"

"Yes," said Jim, "I heard him, and I thought you were very wise not to accept. He would have been sorry long before the fight was over."

Meanwhile Hal, feeling very well pleased with himself, hurried on, and reached the cricket field just as a distant church clock was striking nine.

Dodds had not yet arrived, and Hal thought with pleasure of the promise Dodds had given him that he should go in first. And he meant to stay in too; Dodds should not get him out so easily as he imagined. He only hoped that Dodds would not get tired of bowling to him, and turn him out w.i.l.l.y nilly.

That was the worst, he reflected, of playing with a boy so much older than himself. At school Dodds was an immensely popular fellow, and a new and comparatively small boy, as Hal was, would have been very much snubbed if he had ventured to say a word against him. But here Hal could not help seeing that Dodds was rather inclined to be selfish.

And Hal was quick not only to see but to resent selfishness in other people.

He had plenty of time to think over the faults in the character of his friend, for half-past nine and then ten struck, and still he had not put in an appearance. Hal began to get impatient, for the sun was gradually getting hotter, and soon it would be too warm to play with any comfort. It really was too bad of Dodds to treat him so.

He wondered what the others were doing, and whether they had begun their fight. If it had not been for Dodds, he might have been with them now, instead of dawdling away the whole of the morning doing nothing.

For another half-hour Hal waited, and at the end of that time he came to the conclusion that Dodds did not intend to turn up at all.

"He _is_ selfish," he thought indignantly. "Here have I spoiled the whole of my birthday morning waiting for him. I might have been defending the fort all this time and enjoying myself."

Here his conscience whispered that he might also have been helping his twin sister to enjoy her birthday; and when he remembered how bravely she had concealed her own disappointment, and how unselfishly she had told him to go and spend his birthday in the manner that pleased him best, he began to see how very selfishly he had behaved.

"I will go to them now," he thought, starting up; "there are heaps of time to have a rattling good fight before dinner."

And so there would have been, but--alas! for his good resolutions--as he jumped to his feet something fell out of his pocket. It was the little packet which he had bought last Sat.u.r.day.

For a moment he hesitated; then down he sat, and picked up the packet.

"I will have just one," he said, "and then go and play with them."

"One" proved to be a cigarette, for cigarettes were what the little packet contained.

Ever since he came home, he had been trying to master the art of smoking, and had not yet succeeded. Each cigarette made him feel worse than before. But with a perseverance worthy of a better cause he would puff steadily on, and try hard to believe that he was enjoying himself.

One or two of the elder boys at his school--Dodds was not among the number--had boasted that they often smoked in the holidays, and Hal had been fired with the idea that it would be a fine thing to be able to say when he went back that he knew how to smoke too.

And this was the secret of much of his altered behaviour, of his mysterious absences, and more than all of his frequent pale looks and irritable moods. The discomfort he felt when the cigarette was actually between his lips was nothing compared to the very disagreeable sensations that always followed. He would feel sick and dizzy, and suffer from a headache for hours afterwards; but as soon as he recovered he would return to the charge and refuse to acknowledge himself beaten.

This morning he met with no better success. He began to feel ill long before he had half finished his first cigarette, and by the time he was half-way through the second the most painful qualms seized him, and forgetting the fort and the fight and everything else in his extreme misery he rolled over on the gra.s.s, and spent a most unhappy morning.

At dinner-time he crept into the nursery looking so pale and wretched that nurse was really alarmed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hal with cigarette]

"I can't think what has come to you, Master Hal," she said. "You never used to suffer from these dreadful sick headaches. You had better go straight and lie down, and I will have some soup sent up to you."

Hal was thankful to accept her advice. The sight of the roast mutton, and the currant tart with Devonshire cream, which formed the nursery dinner that day, made him shudder; and going to his own room, he flung himself on the bed, and after having taken some of the soup which was brought to him, he fell asleep.

"Which," said Helen, as she and the rest peeped at him through a c.h.i.n.k in the doorway, "is _one_ way of spending a birthday."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Helen looking through doorway]

"This birthday has been a failure altogether," said Jim. "I thought the morning was never coming to an end, and what we are to do this afternoon I am sure I don't know."

"You won't take my advice and let us have a fight by ourselves," said Helen. "It might not be much fun, but, anyway, it would be much better than dawdling away the whole day."

But the others did not agree with her. They felt that without Hal the whole thing would be lacking in spirit.

"I had meant to order a wagonette and take you all for a nice drive,"

said nurse, who was sorry for their disappointment. "But now that Master Hal looks so queer, I don't like to leave him."

"Hal has spoiled our whole day," said Helen in a grumbling tone, as they all sauntered somewhat aimlessly across the garden.

"Poor Hal!" said Drusie softly; "if it comes to that, he is not having a very nice day himself, Helen."

"And he has not spoiled our feast, Helen," put in Tommy. "We are going to have that all the same--aren't we, Drusie?"

"Oh yes," she said cheerfully; though, to tell the truth, the feast had lost all charms for her. She was not even looking forward to seeing them drink her wonderful wine.

Though they had not intended when they started to go near the fort, almost without their knowing it their steps led them in the direction of the Wilderness, and scrambling over the gap in the hedge, they pushed their way towards the camp. This was a small clearing in the surrounding thicket, which was always used by the attacking party as a meeting-ground and a store-house for ammunition. There it lay ready for use--piles and piles of sandy b.a.l.l.s, of all shapes and sizes.

They really could not bear to look at them, and turning away they went in single file down to the fort. The flag that had floated so defiantly from its summit all day might as well be hauled down, for if it rained in the night it would be spoiled.

A narrow path led from the camp; and when Drusie, who was leading the way, came within sight of the fort she paused and gave vent to a mournful sigh. The flag, waving gently in the soft summer breeze, looked so beautiful, and it did seem such a pity that it was to be taken down in so ignominious a manner.