Patience Wins Part 38

I quieted Piter though each time, and went and tried again till I managed my task, having to take great care that I did not hoist myself with my own petard, for it was a terribly dangerous engine that I was setting, though I did not think so then.

It was now set to my satisfaction, and being quite prepared with a big hammer, my next task was to drive in the lever like a peg right through the ring and up to the head, so that if I did catch my bird, there would be no chance of his getting away.

I felt about in the dark for a suitable place, and the most likely seemed to be just at the extent of the five feet of chain, which reached to the edge of the dam, where, between two of the big stones of the embankment, I fancied I could drive in the lever so that it could not be drawn out.

So taking the steel bar with the sharp edge I ran it through the ring, directed the point between two blocks of stone, and then began to drive.

As I said I was well prepared, having carefully thought out the whole affair, and I had bound several thicknesses of cloth over the head of the hammer like a pad so as to m.u.f.fle the blows, and thus it was that I was able to drive it home without much noise.

At first it went in so easily that I was about to select a fresh place, but it soon became harder and firmer, and when I had done and felt the head it was quite immovable, and held the ring close down to the stones.

My idea had been to cover the trap with a handful or two of hay, but it was so dark that I thought I would leave it, as it was impossible to see it even from where I looked. I left it, meaning to come the next morning and set it free with a file, for I did not want to take up the peg, and I could get another for lever and join the chain with a strong padlock the next time.

It was about eleven o'clock when I had finished my task, and I did not know whether to be pleased or alarmed. I felt something like a boy might who had set a bait at the end of a line to catch a crocodile, and was then very much alarmed for fear he should have any luck.

I crept away and waited, thinking a great deal about Piter, and what would be the consequences if he walked over the trap, but I argued that the chances were a hundred thousand to one against his going to that particular spot. Besides, if I left him chained up Uncle Bob was not likely to unloose him, so I determined to run the risk, and leave the trap set when I went off guard.

The time went slowly by without any alarm, and though I went now and then cautiously in the direction of my trap it had not been disturbed, and I came away more and more confident that it was in so out of the way a part of the yard that it might be there for weeks unseen.

I felt better after this, and at the appointed time called Uncle Bob, who took his watch, and when he called me in the morning the wheel was turning, and the men were coming up to their work.

"I thought you were tired, Cob, so I let you lie till the last moment."

I was so stupid and confused with sleep that I got up yawning; and we were half-way back home before, like a flash, there came to me the recollection of my trap.

I could not make an excuse and go back, though I tried hard to invent one; but went on by my uncle's side so quiet and thoughtful that he made a remark.

"Bit done up, Cob! You ought to have another nap after dinner."

"Oh, I'm all right, uncle," I said, and I went on home with him to have steel-traps for breakfast and think of nothing else save what they had caught.

For I felt perfectly sure that someone had come over the wall in the night--Stevens I expected it would prove to be--and had put his foot right in the trap, which had sprung, caught him by the leg, and cut it right off, and I felt sure that when I got back I should find him lying there where he had bled to death.

The next thing that struck me was that I was a murderer, and that I should be tried and condemned to death, but respited and sentenced to transportation for life on account of my youth.

With such thoughts as these rushing through my brain it was not likely that I should enjoy the breakfast with the brown and pink ham so nicely fried, and the eggs that were so creamy white, and with such yolks of gold.

I did _not_ enjoy that breakfast, and I was feverishly anxious to get back to the works, and though first one and then another advised me to go and lie down, I insisted upon going.

I was all in a tremble as I reached the gate, and saw old Dunning's serious face. I read in it reproach, and he seemed to be saying to me, "Oh, how could you do it?" Seemed, for what he did say was, "Nice pleasant morning, Mester Jacob!"

I told a story, for I said, "Yes, it is," when it was to me the most painful and miserable morning I had ever experienced; but I dared not say a word, and for some time I could not find an opportunity for going down the yard.

n.o.body ever did go down there, unless it was to wheel a worn-out grindstone to a resting-place or to carry some broken wood-work of the machinery to throw in a heap. There was the heap of coal and the heap of slack or coal-dust, both in the yard; but those who fetched the coal and slack fetched them from this side, and they never went on the other.

The last time I could recall the men going down there to the dam, was when we threw in Piter to give him a bath.

Piter! Had he been let loose? The thought that had come of him was startling, but easily set right, for there was the bull-dog fast asleep in his kennel.

Then there was Stevens!

The thought was horrible. He ought to be in the grinding-shop, and if he were not--I knew!

It would have been easy to go and look, but I felt that I could not, and I walked back to the gate and spoke to old Dunning.

"All the men come yet?" I said.

"No, Mester Jacob, they hevn't all come yet," he said.

I dare not ask any more. All had not come, and one of those who had not come was, of course, Stevens, and he was lying there dead.

I walked back with Dunning's last words ringing in my ears.

"Ain't you well, Mester Jacob?"

No, I was not well. I felt sick and miserable, and I would have given anything to have gone straight down the yard and seen the extent of the misery I had caused.

Oh! If I could have recalled the past, and undone everything; but that was impossible, and in a state of feverish anxiety I went upstairs to where the men were busy at lathe and dry grindstones, to try and get--a glimpse of my trap, as I hoped I could from one of the windows.

To my horror there were two men looking out, and I stopped dumb-foundered as I listened for their words, which I knew must be about the trapped man lying there.

"Nay, lad," said one, "yow could buy better than they at pit's mouth for eight shillings a chaldron."

Oh, what a relief! It was like life to me, and going to one window I found that they could only see the heap of coals.

From the other windows there was no better view. Even from the room over the water-wheel there was no chance of a glimpse of the trap.

I could not stop up there, for I was all of a fret, and at last, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up my nerves to the sticking point, I went down determined to go boldly into the grinder's shop, and see if Stevens was there.

What an effort it was! I have often wondered since whether other boys would have suffered what I did under the circ.u.mstances, or whether I was a very great coward.

Well, coward or no, I at last went straight into the grinder's shop, and there was the plashing rumble of the great water-wheel beyond the door, the rattle of the bands and the whirr and whirl and screech of the grindstones as they spun round, and steel in some form or other was held to their edge.

There were half a dozen faces I knew, and there was Gentles ready to smile at me with his great mouth and closed eyes.

But I could only just glance at him and nod, for to my horror Stevens'

wheel was not going, and there was no one there.

I felt the cold sweat gather all over my face, and a horrible sensation of dread a.s.sailed me; and then I turned and hurried out of the building, so that my ghastly face and its changes should not be seen.

For just then I saw Stevens rise up from behind his grindstone with an oil-can in his hand--he had been busy oiling some part or other of the bearings.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

MY TRAVELLING COMPANION.

Somehow or another I could not get to that trap all that day, and night came, and still I could not get to it.