The Weathercock Part 6

"You didn't seem to when you licked that gipsy chap last year."

Vane turned red.

"No: that's the worst of it. I always feel shrinky till I start; and then, as soon as I get hurt, I begin to want to knock the other fellow's head off--oh, I say, don't let us talk about that sort of thing; one has got so much to do."

"You have, you mean," said Gilmore, clapping him on the shoulder.

"What's in the wind now, Weatherc.o.c.k?"

"He's making a balloon," said Macey, laughing.

Vane gave quite a start, as he recalled his thoughts about flight that morning.

"Told you so," cried Macey merrily; "and he's going to coax pepper-pot Distin to go up with him, and pitch him out when they reach the first lake."

"No, he isn't," said Gilmore; "he's going to be on the look-out, for Distie's sure to want to serve him out on the sly if he can."

"Coming with us?" said Vane.

"No, not this time, old chap," said Gilmore, smiling. "I'm going to be merciful to your aunt and spare her."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll come when Aleck Macey stops away. He does eat at such a frightful rate, that if two of us came your people would never have us in at the Little Manor again."

Macey made an offer as if to throw something, but Gilmore did not see it, for he had stepped close up to Vane and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"I'm going to stop with Distie. Don't take any notice of his temper.

I'm afraid he cannot help it. I'll stay and go about with him, as if nothing had happened."

Vane nodded and went off with Macey, feeling as if he had never liked Gilmore so much before; and then the little unpleasantry was forgotten as they walked along from the rectory gates, pa.s.sing, as they reached the main road, a party of gipsies on their way to the next town with their van and cart, both drawn by the most miserable specimens of the four-legged creature known as horse imaginable, and followed by about seven or eight more horses and ponies, all of which found time to crop a little gra.s.s by the roadside as cart and van were dragged slowly along.

It was not an attractive-looking procession, but the gipsies themselves seemed active and well, and the children riding or playing about the vehicles appeared to be happy enough, and the swarthy, dark-eyed women, both old and young, good-looking.

Just in front of the van, a big dark man of forty slouched along, with a whip under his arm, and a black pipe in his mouth; and every now and then he seemed to remember that he had the said whip, and took it in hand, to give it a crack which sounded like a pistol shot, with the result that the horse in the van threw up its head, which had hung down toward the road, and the other skeleton-like creature in the cart threw up its tail with a sharp whisk that disturbed the flies which appeared to have already begun to make a meal upon its body, while the scattered drove of ragged ponies and horses ceased cropping the roadside herbage, and trotted on a few yards before beginning to eat again.

"They're going on to some fair," said Macey, as he looked curiously at the horses. "I say, you wouldn't think anyone would buy such animals as those."

"Want to buy a pony, young gentlemen?" said the man with the pipe, sidling up to them.

"What for?" said Macey sharply. "Scarecrow? We're not farmers."

The man grinned.

"And we don't keep dogs," continued Macey. "Oh, I say, George, you have got a pretty lot to-day."

The gipsy frowned and gave his whip a crack.

"Only want cleaning up, master," he said.

"Going to the fair?"

The man nodded and went on, for all this was said without the two lads stopping; and directly after, driving a miserable halting pony which could hardly get over the ground, a couple of big hulking lads of sixteen or seventeen appeared some fifty yards away.

"Oh, I say, Vane," cried Macey; "there's that chap you licked last year.

You'll see how he'll smile at you."

"I should like to do it again," said Vane. "Look at them banging that poor pony about. What a shame it seems!"

"Yes. You ought to invent a machine for doing away with such chaps as these. They're no good," said Macey.

"Oh, you brute!--I say, don't the poor beggar's sides sound hollow!"

"Hollow! Yes," cried Vane indignantly; "they never feed them, and that poor thing can't find time to graze."

"No. It will be a blessing for it when it's turned into leather and glue."

"Go that side, and do as I do," whispered Vane; and they separated, and took opposite sides of the road, as the two gipsy lads stared hard at them, and as if to rouse their ire shouted at the wretched pony, and banged its ribs.

What followed was quickly done. Vane s.n.a.t.c.hed at one stick and twisted it out of the lad's hand nearest to him Macey followed suit, and the boys stared.

"It would serve you precious well right if I laid the stick about your shoulders," cried Vane, breaking the ash sapling across his knee.

"Ditto, ditto," cried Macey doing the same, and expecting an attack.

The lads looked astonished for the moment, but instead of resenting the act, trotted on after the pony, which had continued to advance; and, as soon as they were at a safe distance, one of them turned, put his hand to his mouth and shouted "yah!" while the other took out his knife and flourished it.

"Soon cut two more," he cried.

"There!" said Macey, "deal of good you've done. The pony will only get it worse, and that's another notch they've got against you."

"Pish!" said Vane, contemptuously.

"Yes, it's all very well to say pish; but suppose you come upon them some day when I'm not with you. Gipsies never forget, and you see if they don't serve you out."

Vane gave him a merry look, and Macey grinned.

"I hope you will always be with me to take care of me," said Vane.

"Do my best, old fellow--do my best, little man. I say, though, do you mean me to come and have lunch?"

"It'll be dinner to-day," said Vane.

"But won't your people mind?"

"Mind! no. Uncle and aunt both said I was to ask you to come as often as I liked. Uncle likes you."

"No; does he?"

"Yes; says you're such a rum fellow."