The Weathercock Part 37

"A pound of powder at least," cried the doctor, who then began to sneeze violently, the place being full of steam, and dust caused by the ceiling having been pretty well stripped of plaster. "Here, cook--Eliza--where are you?"

"Oh, master, master, master!"

"Help!--help!--help!"

Two wild appeals for aid from the back kitchen, where the copper was set, and into which uncle and nephew hurried, expecting to find the two maids half buried in _debris_. But, to the surprise of both, that office was quite unharmed, and cook was seated in a big Windsor chair, sobbing hysterically, while Eliza was on the floor, screaming faintly with her ap.r.o.n held over her face.

"How could you be so foolish!--how much powder?--where did you get it?-- where are you hurt?" rattled out the doctor breathlessly.

"Anything the matter, cook?" said Bruff, coming to the door.

"Matter? Yes," cried the doctor, growing cool again. "Here, help me lift Eliza into a chair."

"No, no, don't touch me; I shall fall to pieces," sobbed the maid wildly.

"Nonsense! Here, let me see where you are hurt," continued the doctor, as Eliza was lifted carefully.

"Oh, Master Vane--oh, Master Vane! Is it the end of the world?" groaned cook, as the lad took one of her hands, and asked her where she was injured.

"No, no," cried Vane. "Tell me where you are harmed."

"I don't know--I don't know--I don't know," moaned the trembling woman, beginning in a very high tone and ending very low. "It's all over--It's all over now."

"Give her water," said the doctor. "She's hysterical. Here, cook," he cried sternly, "how came you to bring powder into the house?"

"I don't know--I don't know--I don't know," moaned the trembling woman.

"Oh, master, give me something. Don't let me die just yet."

"Die! nonsense!" cried the doctor. "Be quiet, Eliza. Hang it, women, I can't do anything if you cry out like this. Wherever are you hurt?

You, Eliza, speak."

His firm way had its effect; and as Bruff and Vane stood looking on, the maid faltered:--

"I was a-doing the breakfast-room, sir, when it went off; and, soon as I heered cook scream, I tried to get to her, but had to go round by the back."

"Did you know she was going to blow up the copper hole with gunpowder?"

"No, sir. Last time I see her, she was lighting the kitchen-fire."

"What!" yelled Vane.

"Yes, sir," cried cook, sitting up suddenly, and speaking indignantly: "and I won't stop another day in a house where such games is allowed.

I'd got a good fire by half-past six, and was busy in the back kitchen when it went off. Me get powder to blow up copper holes? I scorn the very idee of it, sir. It's that master Vane put powder among the coals to play me a trick."

"I didn't," cried Vane.

"Don't say that, sir," interposed Bruff, "why, I see the greenhouse chockfull o' smoke as I come by."

Vane had turned quite cold, and was staring at his uncle, while his uncle with his face full of chagrin and perplexity was staring at him.

"You've done it this time, my boy," said the doctor, sadly.

"Is anybody killed?--is anybody killed?" cried Aunt Hannah from the hall. "I can't come through the kitchen. My dear Vane! oh, do speak."

"No one hurt," shouted the doctor. "Come, Vane."

He led the way through the shattered kitchen, which was a perfect wreck; but before he could reach the hall, Vane had pa.s.sed him.

"Aunt! Aunt!" he cried; "did you tell cook not to light the kitchen-fire?"

"Oh, dear me!" cried Aunt Hannah; "what a head I have. I meant to, but I quite forgot."

There was silence in the hall for a few moments, only broken by a sob or two from the back kitchen. Then Aunt Hannah spoke again.

"Oh, I am so sorry, my dear. But is anybody very badly hurt?"

"Yes," said the doctor, dryly. "Vane is--very."

"My dear, my dear! Where?" cried Aunt Hannah, catching the lad by the arm.

"Only in his _amour propre_" said the doctor, and Vane ran out of the hall and through the front door to get round to the greenhouse, but as he opened the door of the gla.s.s building the doctor overtook him, and they entered in silence, each looking round eagerly for the mischief done.

Here it was not serious: some panes of gla.s.s were broken, and two or three pipes nearest to the wall were blown out of their places; but there was the cause of all mischief, the two taps in the small tubes which connected the flow and return pipes were turned off, with the consequence, that there was no escape for the steam, and the closed boiler had of course exploded as soon as sufficient steam had generated, with the consequences seen.

"Pretty engineer you are, sir," cried the doctor, "to have both those stop-c.o.c.ks turned."

"There ought not to have been a second one, uncle," said Vane dolefully.

"I let them get the better of me yesterday, and put in the second. If it had not been for that, one pipe would have been always open, and there could have been no explosion."

"Humph! I see," said the doctor.

"But I ought to have left them turned on, and I should have done so, only I did not think that there was going to be any fire this morning."

"Here, come back, and let's see the extent of the mischief in the kitchen. That piece of new wall is blown out, you see."

He pointed to the loose bricks and mortar thrust out into quite a bow; and then they walked sadly back into the house, where cook's voice could be heard scolding volubly, mingled with Aunt Hannah's milder tones, though the latter could hardly be heard as they entered the devastated kitchen, from which the smoke and dust had now pretty well disappeared, making the damage plain to see. And very plain it was: the new boiler stood in front of the grate, with a hole ripped in one side, the wrought iron being forced out by the power of the steam, just as if it had been composed of paper; the kitchen range was broken, and the crockery on the dresser exactly opposite to the fireplace looked as if it had been swept from the shelves and smashed upon the floor. Chairs were overturned; the table was lying upon its side; tins, coppers, graters, spoons and ladles were here, there, and everywhere. The clock had stopped, and the culinary implements that ornamented the kitchen chimney-piece had evidently flown up to the ceiling. In short, scarcely a thing in the place had escaped some damage, while dust and fragments of plaster covered every object, and the only witness of the explosion, the cat, which had somehow been sheltered and escaped unhurt, was standing on the top of the cupboard, with its eyes glowering and its tail standing straight up, feathered out like a plume.

"Oh, my dear, my dear, what a scene!" cried Aunt Hannah, piteously.

"Vane must never perform any more experiments here."

She had just come to the back kitchen-door, and was looking in.

"Oh, Aunt! Aunt!" cried Vane.

"All very well to blame the poor boy," said the doctor with mock severity. "It was your doing entirely."

"Mine, Thomas!" faltered Aunt Hannah.