The Lost Middy Part 9

"But I have been, my dear, and he said I was to come and tell you. He isn't coming down. Do make haste and finish and come down."

"No, not to-day, Jane. I can't come."

"But what is the matter, dear? Is master in a temper because you fell off the cliff and cut your face?"

"I didn't fall off the cliff and cut my face," said Aleck.

"Then, whatever is the matter, my dear?"

"Well, if you must know, Jane, I've been fighting--like a blackguard, I suppose," cried the boy, pettishly.

"And is that what made master so cross?"

"Yes."

"Did it hurt you very much?" came through the door crack in a whisper.

"Yes--no," replied Aleck.

"I don't know what you mean, my dear," sighed Jane.

"Never mind. Go away, please, now. I'm bathing my face."

"But my dinner's all being spoiled, my dear. You won't come, and master won't come. What am I to do?"

"Go and sit down and eat it," cried Aleck, in a pa.s.sion now; "only don't bother me."

"Well, I'm sure!" cried the captain's maid, tartly. "Master's temper's bad enough to drive anyone away, and now you're beginning too. I don't know what we're coming to in--" _um--um--murmur--murmur--murmur--bang_!

At least that is how it sounded to Aleck as he went on with his bathing, the sharp closing of the pa.s.sage door bringing all to an end and leaving the boy to continue the bathing and drying of his injuries by degrees, after which he sat down by the open window, to rest his aching head upon his hand and let the soft sea air play upon his temples.

He was very miserable, and in a good deal of bodily pain, but the trouble seemed to be the worse part, and it was just occurring to him that he felt very sick and faint and that a draught of water would do him good, when there was a sharp tap at the door after the handle had been tried.

"Uncle!" thought the lad, and the blood flushed painfully to his face.

Then the tap was repeated.

"Master Aleck, Master Aleck!"

"Yes."

"I've brought you up some dinner on a tray."

"I don't want any--I couldn't eat it," said the boy, bitterly.

"Don't tell me, my dear. You do want something--you must; and you can eat it if you try. Now, do come and open the door, please, or you'll be ill."

Aleck rose with a sigh and crossed the room, and the maid came in with a covered plate of something hot which emitted an appetising odour.

"It's very good of you, Jane," began Aleck; "but--"

"My! You are a sight, Master Aleck! Whatever have you been a-doing to yourself?"

"Fighting, I tell you," said the boy, smiling in the middle-aged maid's homely face.

"Who with, my dear?"

"Oh, some of the fishermen's boys over at the town."

"Then it didn't ought to be allowed. You _are_ in a state!"

"Yes; I know without your telling me. What's under that cover?"

"Roast chicken and bacon, my dear."

"Oh, I couldn't touch it, Jane!"

"Now, don't say that, my dear. People must eat and drink even if they are in trouble; because if they don't they're ill. I know what I've brought you isn't as nice as it should be, because it's all dried up, and now it's half cold. So be a good boy, same as you used to be years ago when I first knew you. There was no quarrelling with your bread and b.u.t.ter then, and you were always hungry. But, there, I must go. I wouldn't have master catch me here now for all the millions in the Bank of England. Oh, what a temper he is in, to be sure!"

"Have--have you seen him lately?" asked Aleck, excitedly.

"Seen him? No, my dear. He's shut himself up, like he does sometimes; but I could hear him in the kitchen, walking all over my head, just like a wild beast in a cage, and now and then he began talking to himself quite out loud. It's all your fault, Master Aleck, for he was as good-tempered as could be this morning when I went in to ask him what I was to get ready for dinner, and what time."

Jane closed the door after her with these words and left Aleck with the tray.

"Yes," he said, bitterly, in his pain; "it's all my fault, I suppose, and I'm to go away from everything I like here."

He raised the cover over the plate as he spoke, and a pleasant, appetising odour greeted his nostrils; but he lowered the cover again with a gesture of disgust.

"I couldn't touch it," he said, with a shudder, "even to do me good.

Nothing would do me good now. My face feels so stiff, and my eyes are just as if they'd got something dark over them."

He went near the window again to look out in the direction of the sea, with some idea of watching the birds, of which so many floated up into sight above the cliffs that shut in the Den. But it was an effort to look skyward, and he sat down by the window to think, in a dull, heavy, dreamy way, about his uncle's words.

And it seemed to him, knowing how stern and uncompromising the old man was, that it would be a word and a blow. For aught he knew to the contrary letters might have been written by then, making arrangements for him to go to some inst.i.tution where he would be trained to enter into some pursuit that he might detest. Time back there had been talk about his future, the old man having pleasantly asked him what he would like to be. He had replied. "An officer in the Army," and then stood startled by the change which came over the old man's face.

"No," he had said, scowling, "I could never consent to that, Aleck. I might agree to your going into the Navy, but as a soldier, emphatically no."

"Why doesn't he want me to be a soldier?" mused the boy. "He was a soldier himself. I should like to know the whole truth. It can't be what he said."

Aleck sat wrinkling up his brow and thinking for some little time. Not for long; it made his head ache too much, and he changed from soldiering to sailoring.

"I don't see why I shouldn't," he said, half drowsily, for a strange sensation of weariness came over him. "I should like to be a sailor.

Why not go? Tom Bodger would help me to get a ship; and as uncle is going to send me away, talking as if he had quite done with me, I don't see why I shouldn't go."

The drowsy feeling increased, so that the boy to keep it off began to look over his clothes, thinking deeply the while, but in a way that was rather unnatural, for his hurts had not been without the effect of making him a little feverish. And as he thought he began to mutter about what had taken place that afternoon.

"Uncle can't like me," he said. "He has been kind, but he never talked to me like this before. He wants to get rid of me, to send me away somewhere to some place where I shouldn't like to go. I've no father, no mother, to mind my going, so why shouldn't I? He'll be glad I'm gone, or he wouldn't have talked to me like that."