Friarswood Post Office Part 18

They were in such an eager state, that Ellen at once sprang up, and hastily throwing on her bonnet, ran across the road, and tapped at Mrs.

Shepherd's open door, exclaiming breathlessly, 'O Ma'am, I beg your pardon, but will you tell me where Paul Blackthorn is gone?'

'Paul Blackthorn! how should I know?' said Mrs. Shepherd crossly. 'I'm not to be looking after thieves and vagabonds. He's a come-by-chance, and he's a go-by-chance, and a good riddance too!'

'Oh but, Ma'am, my Lady wanted to speak to him.'

This only made Mrs. Shepherd the more set against the poor boy.

'Ay, ay, I know--coming over the gentry; and a good thing he's gone!'

said she. 'The place isn't to be harbouring thieves and vagrants, or who's to pay the rates? My eggs are gone, I tell you, and who should take 'em but that lad, I'd like to know?'

'Them was two rotten nest-eggs as I throwed away when I was cleaning the stable.'

'Who told you to put in your word, John Farden?' screamed Mrs. Shepherd, turning on him. 'Ye'd best mind what ye're about, or ye'll be after him soon.'

'No loss neither,' muttered John, stopping to pick up his shovel.

'And you didn't see which way he was gone?' asked Ellen, looking from the labourer to the farmer's wife.

'Farmer sent un off or ever I come,' replied John, 'or I'd ha' gied un a breakfast.'

'I'm sure I can't tell,' said Mrs. Shepherd, with a toss of her head.

'And as to you, Ellen King, I'm surprised at you, running after a scamp like that, that you told me yourself was out of a prison.'

'Oh but, Mrs. Shepherd--'

'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' interrupted Mrs. Shepherd; 'and I wonder your mother allows it. But there's nothing like girls now-a-days.'

Ellen thought John Farden grinned; and feeling as if nothing so shocking could ever happen to her again, she flew back, she hardly knew how, to her home, clapped the door after, and dropping into a chair as Harold had done, burst into such a fit of crying, that she could not speak, and only shook her head in answer to Harold's questions as to how Paul was gone.

'Oh, no one knew!' she choked out among her sobs; 'and Mrs. Shepherd--such things!'

Harold stamped his foot, and Mrs. King tried to soothe her. In the midst, she recollected that she could not bear her brothers to guess at the worst part of the 'such things;' and recovering herself a moment, she said, 'No, no, they've driven him off! He's gone, and--and, oh! Mother, Mrs. Shepherd will have it he's a thief, and--and she says I said so.'

That was bad enough, and Ellen wept bitterly again; while her mother and Harold both cried out with surprise.

'Yes--but--I did say I dare said he was out of a reformatory--and that she should remember it! Now I've taken away his character, and he's a poor lost boy!'

Oh, idle words! idle words!

CHAPTER IX--ROBBING THE MAIL

There was no helping it! People must have their letters whether Paul Blackthorn were lost or not, and Harold was a servant of the public, and must do his duty, so after some exhortations from his mother, he ruefully rose up, hoping that he should not have to go to Ragglesford.

'Yes, you will,' said his mother, 'and maybe to wait. Here's a registered letter, and I think there are two more with money in them.'

'To think,' sighed Harold, as he mounted his pony, 'of them little chaps getting more money for nothing, than Paul did in a month by working the skin off his bones!'

'Don't be discontented, Harold, on that score. Them little chaps will work hard enough by-and-by: and the money they have now is to train them in making a fit use of it then.'

Harold looked anxiously up and down the road for Paul, and asked Mr.

Cope's housekeeper whether he had been there to take leave. No; and indeed Harold would have been a little vexed if he had wished good-bye anywhere if not at home.

There was a fine white frost, and the rime hung thickly on every spray of the heavy branches of the dark firs and larches that overhung the long solitary lane between the Grange and Ragglesford, and fringed the park palings with crystals. Harold thought how cold poor Paul must be going on his way in his ragged clothes. The ice crackled under the pony's feet as she trotted down Ragglesford Lane, and the water of the ford looked so cold, that Peggy, a very wise animal, turned her head towards the foot- bridge, a narrow and not very sound affair, over which Harold had sometimes taken her when the stream was high, and threatened to be over his feet.

Harold made no objection; but no sooner were all the pony's four hoofs well upon the bridge, than at the other end appeared d.i.c.k Royston.

'Hollo, Har'ld!' was his greeting, 'I've got somewhat to say to ye.'

'D'ye know where Paul Blackthorn is?' asked Harold.

'Not I--I'm a traveller myself, you must know.'

'You, going to cut?' cried Harold.

'Ay,' said d.i.c.k, laying hold of the pony's rein. 'The police have been down at Rolt's--stupid fellow left old gander's feet about--Mrs. Barker swore to 'em 'cause he'd had so many kicks and bites on common--Jesse's took up and peached--I've been hiding about all night--precious cold it was, and just waiting, you see, to wish you good-bye.'

Harold, very much shocked, could have dispensed with his farewells, nor did he like the look of his eyes.

'Thank you, d.i.c.k; I'm sorry--I didn't think--but I'm after time--I wish you'd let go of Peggy.'

'So that's all you have to say to an old comrade!' said d.i.c.k; 'but, I say, Har'ld, I'm not going so. I must have some tin to take me to Portsmouth. I want to know what you've got in that there bag!'

'You won't have that; it's the post. Let go, d.i.c.k;' and he pushed the pony forward, but d.i.c.k had got her fast by the head. Harold looked round for help, but Ragglesford Lane was one of the loneliest places in the country. There was not a house for half a mile, and Lady Jane's plantations shut in the road on either side.

'I mean to have it,' said d.i.c.k, looking coolly up into his face; 'I mean to see if there's any of the letters with a half-sovereign in 'em, that you tell us about.'

'd.i.c.k, d.i.c.k, it would be robbing! For shame, d.i.c.k! What would become of Mother and me?'

'That's your look-out,' said d.i.c.k; and he stretched out his hand for the bag. He was four years older than Harold, and much stouter.

Harold, with a ready move, chucked the bag round to his back, and shouted l.u.s.tily in hopes that there might be a keeper in the woods, 'Help!

Thieves! He's robbing the post!'

d.i.c.k's hoa.r.s.e laugh was all the answer. 'That'll do, my dear,' he said; 'now you'd best be quiet; I'd be loath to hurt you.'

For all answer, Harold, shouting all the time, dealt him a stroke right over the eyes and nose with his riding-switch, and made a great effort to force the pony on in hopes the blow might have made him slacken his hold.

But though one moment d.i.c.k's arm was thrown over his watering eyes, the other hand held the bridle as firmly as ever, and the next instant his fist dealt Harold such a blow, as nearly knocked out all his breath.

Setting his teeth, and swearing an oath, d.i.c.k was pouncing on the boy's arm, when from the road before them came bursting a meagre thing darting like a wild cat, which fell upon him, hallooing as loud as Harold.

d.i.c.k turned in fury, and let go the bridle. The pony backed in alarm.

The new-comer was grappling with the thief, and trying to drag him aside.

'On, on; go on, Har'ld!' he shouted, but his strength was far from equal to d.i.c.k's, who threw him aside on the hand-rail. Old rotten rail that it was, it crashed under the weight, and fell with both the boys into the water. Peggy dashed forward to the other side, where Harold pulled her up with much difficulty, and turned round to look at the robber and the champion. The fall was not far, nor the water deep, and they had both risen, and were ready to seize one another again in their rage. And now Harold saw that he who had come to his help was no other than Paul Blackthorn, who shouted loudly, 'On, go on! I'll keep him.'

'He'll kill you!' screamed Harold, in despair, ready to push in between them with his horse; but at that moment cart-wheels were heard in the road, and d.i.c.k, shaking his fist, and swearing at them both, shook off Paul as if he had been a feather, and splashing out of the ford on the other side, leapt over the hedge, and was off through the plantations.