Quicksilver Part 30

Rod, line, and hooks are prime necessaries for fishing; but a fish rarely bites at a bare hook, so one of Dexter's first proceedings was to obtain some bait.

Mr Dengate had said that his man should save plenty of gentles for him; but Dexter resolved not to wait for them that day, but to try what he could do with worms and paste. So his first proceeding was to appeal to Mrs Millett for a slice or two of bread.

Mrs Millett was not in the kitchen, but Maria was, and on being appealed to, she said sharply that she was not the cook.

Dexter looked puzzled, and he flushed a little as he wondered why it was that the maid looked so cross, and always answered him so snappishly.

Just then Mrs Millett, who was a plump elderly female with a pleasant countenance and expression, appeared in the doorway, and to her Dexter appealed in turn.

Mrs Millett had been disposed to look at Dexter from the point of view suggested by Maria, who had been making unpleasant allusions to the boy's birth and parentage, and above all to "Master's strange goings on," ever since Dexter's coming. Hence, then, the old lady, who looked upon herself as queen of the kitchen, had a sharp reproof on her tongue, and was about to ask the boy why he hadn't stopped in his own place, and rung for what he wanted. The frank happy expression on his face disarmed her, and she smiled and cut the required bread.

"Well, I never!" said Maria.

"Ah, my dear," said Mrs Millett; "I was young once, and I didn't like to be scolded. He isn't such a bad-looking boy after all, only he will keep apples in his bedroom, and make it smell."

"What's looks!" said Maria tartly, as she gave a candlestick she was cleaning a fierce rub.

"A deal, my dear, sometimes," said the old housekeeper. "Specially if they're sweet ones, and that's what yours are not now."

Dexter was not yet armed with all he wanted, for he was off down the kitchen-garden in search of worms.

His first idea was to get a spade and dig for himself; but the stern countenance of Dan'l Copestake rose up before him, and set him wondering what would be the consequences if he were to be found turning over some bed.

On second thoughts he determined to find the gardener and ask for permission, the dread of not succeeding in his mission making him for the moment more thoughtful.

Dan'l did not need much looking for. He had caught sight of Dexter as soon as he entered the garden, and gave vent to a grunt.

"Now, what mischief's he up to now?" he grumbled; and he set to and watched the boy while making believe to be busy cutting the dead leaves and flowers off certain plants.

He soon became aware of the fact that Dexter was searching for him, and this altered the case, for he changed his tactics, and kept on moving here and there, so as to avoid the boy.

"Here! Hi! Mr Copestake!" cried Dexter; but the old man had been suddenly smitten with that worst form of deafness peculiar to those who will not hear; and it was not until Dexter had pursued him round three or four beds, during which he seemed to be blind as well as deaf, that the old man was able to see him.

"Eh!" he said. "Master want me?"

"No. I'm going fishing; and, please, I want some worms."

"Wums? Did you say wums!" said Dan'l, affecting deafness, and holding his hand to his ear.

"Yes."

"Ay, you're right; they are," grumbled Dan'l. "Deal o' trouble, wums.

Gets inter the flower-pots, and makes wum castesses all over the lawn, and they all has to be swept up."

"Yes; but I want some for fishing."

"'Ficient? Quite right, not sufficient help to get 'em swep' away."

"Will you dig a few worms for me, please?" shouted Dexter in the old man's ear.

"Dig wums? What for? Oh, I see, thou'rt going fishing. No; I can't stop."

"May I dig some!" cried Dexter; but Dan'l affected not to hear him, and went hurriedly away.

"He knew what I wanted all the time," said the boy to himself. "He don't like me no more than Maria does."

Just then he caught sight of Peter Cribb, who, whenever he was not busy in the stable, seemed to be chained to a birch broom.

"Will you dig a few worms for me, please?" said Dexter; "red ones."

"No; I'm sweeping," said the groom gruffly; and then, in the most inconsistent way, he changed his tone, for he had a weakness for the rod and line himself. "Going fishing!"

"Yes, if I can get some worms."

"Where's old Copestake!"

"Gone into the yard over there," said Dexter.

"All right. I'll dig you some. Go behind the wall there, by the cuc.u.mber frames. Got a pot!"

Dexter shook his head.

"All right. I'll bring one."

Dexter went to the appointed place, and in a few minutes Peter appeared, free from the broom now, and bearing a five-p.r.o.nged fork and a small flower-pot; for the fact that the boy was a brother angler superseded the feeling of animosity against one who had so suddenly been raised from a lowly position and placed over his head.

Peter winked one eye as he sc.r.a.ped away some of the dry straw, and then turned over a quant.i.ty of the moist, rotten soil, displaying plenty of the glistening red worms suitable for the capture of roach and perch.

"There you are," he said, after putting an ample supply in the flower-pot, whose hole he had stopped with a piece of clay; "there's as many as you'll want; and now, you go and fish down in the deep hole, where the wall ends in the water, and I wish you luck."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

DEXTER MAKES A FRIEND.

"I like him," said Dexter to himself, as he hurried down the garden, found the place, and for the next ten minutes he was busy fitting up his tackle, watching a boy on the other side of the river the while, as he sat in the meadow beneath a willow-tree fishing away, and every now and then capturing a small gudgeon or roach.

The river was about thirty yards broad at this spot, and as Dexter prepared his tackle and watched the boy opposite, the boy opposite fished and furtively watched Dexter.

He was a dark, snub-nosed boy, shabbily-dressed, and instead of being furnished with a bamboo rod and a new line with glistening float, he had a rough home-made hazel affair in three pieces, spliced together, but fairly elastic; his float was a common quill, and his line of so many hairs pulled out of a horse's tail, and joined together with a peculiarly fast knot.

Before Dexter was ready the shabby-looking boy on the other side had caught two more silvery roach, and Dexter's heart beat fast as he at last baited his hook and threw in the line as far as he could.

He was pretty successful in that effort, but his cork float and the shot made a loud splash, while the boy opposite uttered a chuckle.

"He's laughing at me," said Dexter to himself; and he tried the experiment of watching his float with one eye and the boy with the other, but the plan did not succeed, and he found himself gazing from one to the other, always hurriedly glancing back from the boy to the float, under the impression that it bobbed.