Burr Junior Part 79

"What of, Lom?"

"Of how strange it is, lads, that we somehow have to help and do good to them who've always been our enemies. That chap's always hated you, Mr Burr."

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Lomax," I said, with a sigh.

"And so you go into the water, and save his life."

"Yes, 'tis rum," said Mercer. "A nasty, disagreeable beggar. I hate him. But I am glad he wasn't drowned."

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

d.i.c.ksee only stayed till the following Christmas, and there was a general feeling of satisfaction in the school when it was known that he was not coming back after the holidays, Mr Hasnip forgetting himself so far as to say,--

"And a good job too."

It was a great relief to be rid of him, for, as I told Mercer, he was always ten times more sneaky and aggravating during the last half, and you couldn't stoop to hitting a fellow like that, especially when you knew how easily you could lick him.

"Oh, couldn't you?" said Mercer. "I could, and I would too, if he spoke to me as he does to you."

"Not you," I said.

"I would. I believe he never forgave you for saving his life."

It was during the autumn of the following year that Mercer and I, who had grown pretty big lads by that time, and had come to be looked up to by the others as captains of the cricket eleven and of the football, were standing at the window looking out over the woods talking, and watching the flickering of the lightning in the far east. We had all come up to our dormitories, but, instead of going at once to bed, we two were talking in a low voice about what a dark, soft night it was, when all at once there was a flash that was not lightning, apparently a short distance away, followed by the report of a gun.

"Oh, Tom!" I cried; "poachers!"

"Hush! Listen!" he said; and hardly had the words left his lips before there was another report, this time without the flash being seen.

"It is poachers," I said excitedly, "and they're in Long Spinney. Why, where's Bob Hopley? They're clearing off the pheasants."

We listened, and there was another report, and another, and I was certain that it was in Sir Hawkhurst's best preserve, where I had seen Bob Hopley feeding the beautiful birds only a week before, and Mercer had come away with me feeling miserable because he could not have one to stuff.

There was another report, and I grew more and more excited.

"Tom," I whispered, "let's go down and slip out of the schoolroom window."

"And go and see. But suppose we're caught?"

"We shan't be," I whispered; "let's go. I can't bear to stand still here and listen to those birds being shot. Sir Hawkhurst is so proud of them."

"I should like to go."

"Come on, then. Bob Hopley must be asleep."

"One moment," said Tom, hesitating. "Let's ask the Doctor to let us go."

"He wouldn't," I cried impatiently.

"No, he wouldn't," said Tom. "Come on."

We opened our door softly, stole down, and reached the schoolroom unseen, after listening at the masters' sitting-room door, and hearing them chatting together. One of the windows was open to ventilate the place after its crowded state all the evening, for, in that out-of-the-way part of the country, there was no fear felt of housebreakers, and, stepping up on the desk, I thrust out my legs, and dropped lightly into the playground, to be followed by Mercer, who was breathing hard with excitement. Then, making for the grounds in front, we saw a light shining out before us on to the closely-cut lawn.

The Doctor's window was open, and, as we crept by, sheltered by the shrubs, there was another report, and the Doctor came and looked out.

"I'm afraid it's poachers, my dears," he said. "Well, I'm not a gamekeeper."

We hurried along the lawn, leaving him looking out, ran lightly along the gra.s.sy marge of the carriage drive, and pa.s.sed through the swing gate, but stopped short.

"Caught," I said to myself, as a tall, dark figure stepped out before us.

"Hallo! where are you young gents going?"

"Oh, Lom, don't tell," I panted. "There are poachers down in Long Spinney."

"I know," he said; "I heard 'em."

"And we're going down to tell Bob Hopley."

"On the sly?"

"Yes; the Doctor don't know. You won't get us into a sc.r.a.pe?"

"Well, you know, I ought to; but--"

"You won't, Lom?"

"Well, not this time. I was just going to bed when I heard them, and thought I'd run down and ask Bob Hopley if he wanted any help. Look here!"

He held up a big oaken stick, and, thoroughly in accord, we all started off at a trot, and in a very short time were in the lane where Bob Hopley's lodge stood.

"He's off somewhere at the other side of the estate," whispered Lomax, "and they've watched him go. I say, don't you boys come near if there's a row."

"Hist! Who's that?" said a familiar voice out of the darkness.

"Father?"

"No, my dear, it isn't your father."

"Oh, Mr Lomax, what shall I do? Father's been over to Hastings to-day, and hasn't come back. There's a gang of poachers clearing the Long Spinney, and it will break his heart. I thought it was him come back.

There--there they go again."

For there were several reports of guns not very far away.

"I don't know what to do," said Lomax; "I've got plenty of fight in me, and I'm ready to charge down on them, but they'll be too much for one."

"I'll come with you, and bring father's gun."