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"Yes, you will, sir; I order you to come home with me at once."
"Shan't come to be rope's-ended, I tell you. I'm going away by myself if you won't come."
"You are coming home with me, and we're going to ask them to forgive us for being so stupid. Now then; will you come?"
"No."
"Do you want me to make you?"
"I don't want no more to do with you; you're a coward."
Sydney made a dart to seize his arm, but Pan dodged, and there was no sign of weariness now, for he bounded aside, and then set off running fast in the opposite direction to that in which his companion wished him to go.
Pan placed half a dozen good yards between them before Sydney recovered from his surprise. Then without hesitation the pursuit began, both lads striving their utmost to escape and capture, and at the end of a couple of hundred yards Syd had done so well that with a final bound he flung himself upon his quarry, and grasped at his collar.
The result was not antic.i.p.ated. Sydney missed the collar, but the impetus he gave to the boy he pursued was sufficient to send him sprawling in the dirty road; and unable to check himself, Sydney came down heavily on Pan's back.
"Now then, will you come home?" panted Sydney.
"Oh! Ah!"
Two loud yells as Pan wrested himself over, strove to get up, was resisted, and then for five minutes there was a fierce wrestling bout, now down, now up, in which Sydney found himself getting the worst of it; and feeling that in another minute Pan would get free and escape, he changed his mode of attack, striking his adversary a heavy blow in the face, with the natural result that the wrestling bout became a fight.
Here Sydney soon showed his superiority, easily avoiding Pan's ugly rushes, and dealing such a shower of blows upon the lad's head that before many minutes had elapsed Pan was seated in one of the wettest parts of the road, whimpering and howling, while Sydney stood over him with fists clenched.
"You're a coward, that's what you are," howled Pan.
"Get up then, and I'll show you I'm not. Do you hear?"
"How-ow!"
"Don't howl like a dog. Get up, sir, and take your beating like a man,"
said Syd.
"I didn't think it of you, Master Syd," whimpered Pan.
"Now will you get up and walk home?"
For answer the boy got up slowly and laboriously, went on a few yards in front, and Sydney followed, feeling, as he thought, as if he was driving a donkey home.
For about a mile Pan walked steadily on, with Sydney feeling better than he had since he left home, although his knuckles were bruised, and there was a dull aching sensation in one angle of his jaw. He had gained two victories, and in spite of his weariness something very near akin to satisfaction began to warm his heart, till all at once the figure of Pan began to be visible; and as at the end of another hundred yards or so they came out upon a patch of open forest land, the figure was much plainer. So was his own, as he looked down and saw in dismay that it would soon be broad daylight, that they were some miles from the Heronry, and that Pan was covered with mud, his face smeared with ruddy stains, and that he, Sydney Belton, known as "the young gentleman up at the house," was in very little better trim.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
The day grew brighter; tiny flecks of orange and gold began to appear high up, then there was a warm glow in the east, with the birds chirping merrily in the woodlands, and then day began.
But as the morning brightened Syd's spirits grew cloudy, and as they reached another patch of wood through which ran a little stream, he stopped short, looking anxiously along the road in both directions.
"We can't go home like this, Pan," he said. "It would be horrid."
"Well, I don't want to go home, do I?" grumbled the boy, in an ill-used tone.
"We shall have to hide here in the wood till night, and we can dry and clean our muddy clothes and have a good wash before then."
"And what are we to get to eat?"
"Blackberries, and sloes, and nuts."
"Oh yes, and pretty stuff they are. One apple off the big old tree's worth all the lot here."
"Can't help it, Pan. We must do the best we can."
"Don't let's go back, Master Syd. You can't tell how rope's-end hurts.
Alter your mind, and let's go and seek our fortunes somewhere."
"This way," said Syd, by way of answer; and pointing off the road, the two lads plunged farther and farther into the wood, keeping close to the little stream, which had cut its way deep down below the level; so that it was some time before they came to an open sandy spot, where, with the bright morning sun shining full upon them, they had a good refreshing wash; and soon after, as they sat in a sunny nook where the sand was deep and dry, first one and then the other nodded off to sleep.
It was late in the afternoon before Syd awoke, to look up anxiously about before the full force of his position dawned upon him; and feeling faint and more low-spirited than had ever been his lot before, he sat there thinking about what he had to go through.
As near as he could judge they were about five miles from the Heronry, and two hours before it grew dark would be ample time for their journey.
"I may as well let him sleep," said Syd. "He'll only want to go away, and we can't do that."
Then, in spite of his efforts to the contrary, his mind began to dwell upon home and the various meals. Just about dusk the dinner would be ready, and his father and uncle sitting down, while he--
"Oh, I do feel so hungry!" he muttered. "I'd give anything for some bread and cheese."
He went to the side of the little stream, lay down, and placing his lips to the clear cool water, drank heartily a draught that was refreshing, but did not allay his hunger; and after sitting down and thinking for a time, he put his hands in his pockets and felt his money. But it was of no use out there in the woods.
He sat thinking again, wishing now that they had gone on in spite of their condition, for then the trouble would have been over, and he would have had food, if it had only been bread and water.
"Oh dear! I can't bear this any longer!" he said, suddenly jumping up.
"We must get something to eat if it's only nuts. Here, Pan, Pan!"
He touched the boy with his foot, but it had no effect; and bending down, he took one arm and shook it.
The effect was magical. Pan sat up, fending his face with his arm, and apostrophising some imaginary personage, as he fenced and complained.
"Oh, don't! I'll never do so no more. Oh, please! Oh, I say! It hurts!--You, Master Syd?"
"Yes; who did you think it was?"
"My father with the rope's-end and--oh, I say, I am so stiff and sore, and--have you got anything to eat?"
Sydney shook his head despondingly.
"I was waking you up to come and try and find some."