Sappers and Miners Part 33

"'Cause it was all over a row, now, warn't it? Of course, a chap gets his monkey up a bit when it comes to a fight. That's nat'ral, ar'n't it?"

Gwyn nodded, and felt as if he did not like the look of the man at all; but at the same time he was ready to own that there might be a good deal of prejudice in the matter.

"Wouldn't like to go and say a good word for me, would you?" said the man.

"Of course, I should not like to," said Gwyn, laughing. "How can I go and speak for a man whom I only know through our having two rows with him. That isn't natural, is it?"

"No, I s'pose not," said the man, frankly. "Well, I'll go myself. I say, I am a wunner to work."

"You'd better tell Colonel Pendarve so," said Gwyn, smiling.

"Think so? Well, I will, and good luck to me. But, I say, hadn't you two better make your dog friends with me?"

"No," said Gwyn, promptly. "Grip will know fast enough whether he ought to be friends with you or no."

"Would he? Is he clever enough for that?"

"Oh, yes," said Gwyn; "he knows an honest man when he sees him, doesn't he, Joe?"

"To be sure he does."

"Think o' that, now," said the man. "All right, then. Don't you two go again' me. I'll start for the office at once."

"Here, what's your name?"

"Dina.s.s--Thomas Dina.s.s," said the man, with a laugh, "but I'm mostly called Tom. That all?"

"Yes, that's all," said Gwyn, shortly; and the man turned to go, with the result that Grip made a rush after him, and the man faced round and held up his boot.

"Come here, sir! Come back!" shouted Gwyn; and the dog obeyed at once, but muttering protests the while, as if not considering such an interruption justifiable.

Then all three stood watching till the man had disappeared, the dog uttering an angry whine from time to time, as if still dissatisfied.

At last the two boys, who had met now for the first time since the adventure on the ladder, turned to gaze in each other's eyes, and ended in exchanging a short nod.

"Going up?" said Gwyn at last.

"Yes; I came on purpose, and found Grip here."

"So did I come on purpose," said Gwyn. "Wanted a good think. Lead on."

Joe went to the tallest of the old stones, and began to climb--no easy task, but one to which he seemed to be accustomed; and after a little difficulty, he obtained foothold, and then, getting a hand well on either side of one of the weather-worn angles, he drew himself higher and higher, and finally perched himself on the top.

Before he was half up, Gwyn began to follow, without a thought of danger, though he did say, "Hold tight; don't come down on my head."

Up he went skilfully enough, but before he was at the top, Grip uttered a few sharp barks, raised his ears, became excited, and jumped at the monolith, to scramble up a few feet, drop, and, learning no wisdom from failure, scramble up again and again, and fall back.

Then, as he saw his master reach the top, he threw back his head, opened his jaws, and uttered a most doleful, long-drawn howl, as full of misery and disappointment as a dog could give vent to.

"Quiet, will you!" cried Gwyn, and the dog answered with a sharp bark, to which he added another dismal, long-drawn howl.

"Do you hear!" cried Gwyn; "don't make that row. Lie down!"

There was another howl.

"Do you want me to throw stones at you?" cried Gwyn, fiercely.

Doubtless the dog did not, for he had an intense aversion to being pelted; but, as if quite aware of the fact that there were no stones to cast, he threw his head up higher than ever, and put all his force into a dismal howl, that was unutterably mournful and strange.

"You wretch! Be quiet! Lie down!" cried Gwyn; but the more he shouted the louder the dog howled, while he kept on making ineffectual efforts to mount the stone.

"Let him be; never mind. He'll soon get tired. Want to talk."

The boys settled themselves in uncomfortable positions on the narrow top, where the felspar crystals stood out at uncomfortable angles, and those of quartz were sharper still, and prepared for their long confab.

As a matter of course, they would have been ten times as comfortable on the short turf just beyond the furze; but then, that would have been quite easy, and there would have been no excitement, or call upon their skill and energy. There was nothing to be gained by climbing up the stone--nothing to see, nothing to find out; but there was the inclination to satisfy that commonplace form of excelsiorism which tempts so many to try and get to the top. So the boys sat there, thoughtfully gazing out to sea, while the dog, after a good many howls, gave it up for a bad job, curled himself into an ottoman, hid his nose under his bushy collie tail, and went to sleep.

Some minutes elapsed before either of the boys spoke, and when one did, it was with his eyes fixed upon the warm, brown sails of a fis.h.i.+ng-lugger, miles away.

It was Gwyn who commenced, and just as if they had been conversing on the subject for some time,--

"Major very angry?"

Joe nodded.

"Awfully. Said, knowing what a state of health he was in, it wasn't fair for me to go on trying to break my neck, for I was very useful to him when he had his bad fever fits--that it wasn't pleasant for him to stop at home, expecting to have me brought back in bits."

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"Yes, he did--bits that couldn't be put together again; and that, if this was the result of having you for a companion, I had better give you up."

Gwyn drew a deep breath, and kicked his heels together with a loud clack. Then there was a long pause.

"Well," said Gwyn, at last; "are you going to give me up?"

Joe did not make a direct answer, but proposed a question himself.

"What did the Colonel say?"

"Just about the same as your father did; only he didn't bring in about the fever, nor he didn't say anything about my being brought home in bits. Said that I was a great nuisance, and he wondered how it was that I could not amuse myself like other boys did."

"So we do," said Joe, sharply. "I never knew of a boy yet who didn't get into a sc.r.a.pe sometimes."

Gwyn grunted, and frowned more deeply.

"Said it was disgraceful for me to run risks, and cause my mother no end of anxiety, and--"

"Well, go on: what a time you are!" cried Joe, for Gwyn suddenly paused.

"What else did he say?"