The Weathercock Part 38

"Of course it was. You were told not to have the kitchen-fire lit."

"Yes--yes," wailed Aunt Hannah; "and I forgot it."

"It was not only that, Aunt, dear," said Vane, going to her side, and taking her hand. "It was my unlucky experiment was the princ.i.p.al cause."

"Not another day, Eliza," came from the back kitchen. "No, no, not if they went down on their bended knees and begged me to stop."

"What, amongst all this broken crockery?" cried the doctor. "Hold your tongue, you stupid woman, and send Bruff to ask his wife to come and help clear up all this mess."

Cook, invisible in the back, uttered a defiant snort.

"Ah!" shouted the doctor. "Am I master here. See to a fire there at once, and I should like one of those delicious omelettes for my breakfast, cook. Let's have breakfast as soon as you can. There, no more words. Let's be very thankful that you were neither of you badly scalded. You heard what I said, Bruff?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Then go and fetch your wife directly. Cook will give you some breakfast here."

Bruff scurried off, and Eliza entered the kitchen, wiping her eyes.

"Bit of a fright for you, eh, my girl?" said the doctor, taking her hand, and feeling her pulse. "Well done! Brave little woman. You are as calm as can be again. You're not going to run away at a moment's notice."

"Oh, no, sir," cried Eliza eagerly.

"Nor cook neither," said the doctor aloud. "She's too fond of us to go when we are in such a state as this."

There was a sniff now from the back kitchen and the doctor gave Vane a humorous look, as much as to say, "I can manage cook better than your aunt."

"There, my dear," he said, "it's of no use for you to cry over spilt milk. Better milk the cow again and be more careful. See what is broken by and by, and then come to me for a cheque. Vane, my boy, send a letter up at once for another boiler."

"But surely, dear--" began Aunt Hannah.

"I am not about to have the boiler set there again? Indeed I am. Vane is not going to be beaten because we have had an accident through trusting others to do what we ought to have done for ourselves. There, come and let's finish dressing; and cook!"

"Yes, sir," came very mildly from the back kitchen, in company with the crackling of freshly-lit wood.

"You'll hurry the breakfast all you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't feel any the worse now, do you?"

"No, sir, only a little ketchy about the throat."

"Oh, I'll prescribe for that."

"Thank you, sir, but it will be better directly," said cook hastily.

"After you've taken my dose, make yourself a good strong cup of tea.

Come along, my dear. Now, Vane, your face wants washing horribly, my boy. Hannah, my dear, you understand now the tremendous force of steam."

"Yes, my dear," said Aunt Hannah, sorrowfully. "I do indeed."

"And if ever in the future you see anyone sitting upon the safety valve to get up speed, don't hesitate for a moment, go and knock him off."

"My dear Thomas," said Aunt Hannah, dolefully, "this is no subject for mirth."

"Eh? Isn't it? I think it is. Why, some of us might have been scalded to death, and we have all escaped. Don't you call that a cause for rejoicing? What do you say, Vane?"

"I say, sir, that I shall never forgive myself," replied the lad sadly.

"Not your place, Weatherc.o.c.k, but mine, and your aunt's. I'll forgive you freely, and as for your aunt, she can't help it because she was partly to blame."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

ANXIETIES.

"Hallo, boiler-burster," cried Gilmore, next time they met, while Macey ran into a corner of the study to turn his face to the wall and keep on exploding with laughter, "when are you going to do our conservatory up here?"

"Oh, I say, don't chaff me," cried Vane, "I have felt so vexed about it all."

"Distie has been quite ill ever since with delight at your misfortune.

It has turned him regularly bilious."

"Said it was a pity you weren't blown up, too," cried Macey.

"Bah! don't tell ugly tales," said Gilmore.

"I wish I could feel that he did not," thought Vane, who had a weakness for being good friends with everybody he knew.

He had to encounter plenty of joking about the explosion, and for some time after, Bruff used to annoy him by turning away when they met, and shaking his shoulders as if convulsed with mirth, but after a sharp encounter with Vane, when he had ventured to say he knew how it would be, he kept silence, and later on he was very silent indeed.

For the new boiler came down, and was set without any objection being made by cook, who was for some time, however, very reluctant to go near the thing for fear it should go off; but familiarity bred contempt, and she grew used to it as it did not go off, and to Bruff's great disgust it acted splendidly, heating the greenhouse in a way beyond praise, and with scarcely any trouble, and an enormous saving of fuel.

Vane was so busy over the hot-water apparatus, and had so much to think about with regard to the damages in connection with the explosion, that he had forgotten all about the adventure in the lane just prior to meeting Macey, till one day, when out botanising with the doctor, they came through that very lane again, and in their sheltered corner, there were the gipsies, looking as if they had never stirred for weeks.

There, too, were the women cooking by the fire, and the horses and ponies grazing on the strips of gra.s.s by the roadside.

But closer examination would have proved that the horses which drew cart and van were different, and several of the drove of loose ones had been sold or changed away.

There, too, were the boys whose duty it was to mind the horses slouching about the lane, and their dark eyes glistened as the doctor and Vane came along.

"Dear me!" said the doctor suddenly.

"What, uncle?"

"I thought I saw someone hurry away through the furze bushes as we came up, as if to avoid being seen. Your friend Macey I think."

"Couldn't have been, uncle, or he would have stopped."