Two Little Travellers Part 8

"Say, mate, will you give me an' my wife a lift as far as Engleton?

We've been on tramp this last week, an' we're both dead beat."

Bargee looked curiously at the speaker, a great, ill-looking fellow, with coa.r.s.e red hair and a crooked eye. From the man he glanced at his companion, a tall, broadly-built woman, with bold black eyes, olive skin, and flaming cheeks. They were the pair, in short, who had watched Darby and Joan from behind the clump of hazel bushes as they sat upon the tree-stump that day in Copsley Wood.

"Can't," said the young bargeman shortly. "It's against rules for this yer boat to carry pa.s.sengers."

"Ay, ay, I know all that; but just for once you might oblige a chap. We could make it worth yer while," added the fellow insinuatingly.

"Do now," put in the woman in a wheedling voice, fixing her big, bold eyes on bargee's face. "My feet's blistered, an' my legs that stiff I couldn't walk another mile to save my life."

"Don't then," he answered shortly, preparing to push past her and get into the boat.

But she clung to his hand, determined not to be thrown off, smiling broadly into his dull face, almost dazzling him with the flash of her strong white teeth, which she displayed so freely.

"Well, to be sure, who would think now that a fine feller like you could be so hard-hearted! Sich a well-set-up lad," she continued, "an' with sich a fetchin' kind o' look, shouldn't be backward in helpin' other folks, especially a woman as is tired out like me."

"Can't you stop here overnight and rest, then? you'll be fit enough to foot it to Engleton in the morning. Where's your hurry?" asked bargee, beginning to relent under the smiling glances and flattering words of the temptress.

"Well, it's this way," explained the red-haired man, fixing bargee with his straight eye, while the crooked one gazed into s.p.a.ce about half a foot above his head. "We belongs to the Satellite Circus Company; we're the proprietors, in fact, me an' my missis here--"

"You don't mean that old shandrydan of a caravan that pa.s.sed along there two or three days ago?" and bargee jerked his thumb in the direction of the hilly tract sloping up from the ca.n.a.l course, through which a narrow road, little better than a sheep track, wound its circuitous way. "Do you call _yon_ a circus company?" he asked, laughing broadly into the proprietor's ugly face.

"Undoubtedly--the Satellite Circus Company, as I think I remarked before. We're a small party, small but select--_very_" and the red-haired man winked knowingly in the direction of his wife. "As I was tryin' to explain, the caravan with part of our troupe went on to Barchester the other day; but me an' my missis here--she wasn't feelin'

well-like--we stayed behind in the country to recruit, as the newspapers says about all the big folks, an' get the benefit o' the fresh air."

"Then 'twas ye was loiterin' about Firdale an' Copsley Wood scarin'

people out o' their wits? Poachin'--eh?" asked the young fellow, with a grin.

The proprietor of the Satellite Circus Company made no reply, and after a moment's hesitation his wife answered for him.

"Look ee here," she said insinuatingly, sidling at the same time nearer to bargee, and speaking with her mouth close to his ear. "Wouldn't _them_ make a tasty stew for yer supper to-night, my lad?" opening as she spoke a huge wallet which hung concealed beneath the folds of her faded scarlet shawl, and drawing from its depths a couple of plump young rabbits and a pair of wood-pigeons.

"By jingo! wouldn't they though!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips at the prospect of the toothsome meal the woman was willing to provide.

What a pity he could not oblige her and her husband! They were only tramps, to be sure, but decent enough for all that. What harm could they do on board the old tub of a boat? And what a supper he should have after he reached Barchester!

Bargee looked about him. The boy was seated beside the tiller and paying no attention to his master; he was still busy with his bread and cheese.

The toll-keeper yet lingered within the office, so for his benefit bargee raised his voice as he said roughly,--

"No, no, I tell ye. There's no use o' ye hangin' an' pesterin' here no longer. I durstn't disobey orders, an' that's the end o't." Then he added in a rapid whisper into the woman's quick ear as he boarded his craft,--

"Push on to the next lock, it's about a mile further, an' I'll take ye in then. But mind, if ye're asked any questions, mum's the word."

With a knowing wink and comprehensive smile the pair leisurely sauntered off the wharf; and when the ca.n.a.l-boat slowed in pa.s.sing the next toll, with an agile spring the red-haired man leaped from the path to the deck, then helped his missis, as he called the bold-eyed, black-browed woman, in beside him.

Thus Joe Harris, or Thieving Joe, as he was known among his a.s.sociates, and his wife Moll came to be pa.s.sengers along with our two little travellers on board the _Smiling Jane_.

The bargeman himself now took the tiller. The boy had stolen back to his story, so the newcomers drew somewhat apart, where they sat talking to each other in subdued, earnest tones of the small voyagers then sleeping so serenely in the dirty bunker below--the pretty pair whom they had of set purpose shadowed along the ca.n.a.l, watched aboard the boat, and determinedly followed.

"We've trapped them sure enough this time, Moll, my beauty," said the man, indicating the cabin and the little creatures therein by a side nod of his great red head.

"Ay, surely," answered Moll, with a slow smile. "I expec' the pretty dears is sleepin' sweet as angels down in that dirty hole. But, Joe, now as we have got 'em, do you think it'll be safe to keep 'em? Won't their folks make a row, an' sen' the beaks after us?"

"Folks!" echoed Mr. Harris in mockery. "My, you are a green un, though you're sich a black beauty! Do you suppose if they had any folks belongin' to 'em worth speakin' o' that they'd be let go galavantin'

round as we've seed them--here, there, an' everywhere? No, no; they'd be walkin' about hand in hand as prim as peonies, wi' a starched-up nurse girl at their heels."

"They're out on a lark, you bet; that's what it is," said Moll, nodding her head sagaciously. "Kids like they is allus up to somethin'. Maybe they've runned away. More'n likely."

"Humbug!" snapped Joe shortly. "Didn't you notice their clo'es? They're nothin' but washed-out rags an' far-worn clouts!" he declared, as if his opinion should settle the question beyond further doubt.

"Rags an' clouts if you like," agreed Moll cheerily, "but they wasn't allus that. They're the remains o' real nice good things. Mind, Joe, I knows, an' you don't; men never does about sich matters."

"Stuff an' nonsense," he growled. "Clo'es or rags, it don't matter a b.u.t.ton, for they're only common brats, I tell you. There'll be a bit o'

an outcry after them for a day or two; then it'll die down as quick as it rose. Poor folks haven't time to indulge their feelin's. Besides, once we've got clear off they'll never find us. We've covered our tracks purty cleverly, I'm thinkin', an' so has the kids," he added, with a smothered chuckle.

"Hum! Well, maybe you're right, my man," said Moll, after a moment's silence, during which she sat twirling the fringes of her old red shawl.

"I'm willin' to stand by you in this business, as I've done in others afore now," she added meaningly, while her better half scowled at her, and muttered under his breath something that was hardly complimentary; "but if trouble comes o't, as it will, or my name's not Moll Harris, you can't say as I didn't warn you, like a wife should."

"Shut up!" commanded Joe gruffly; but as this was a frequent and favourite remark of his, Moll did not take the trouble to resent it.

Then he changed his tune, and continued in an eager undertone,--

"They'll make the fortune o' the company, Moll, old girl, will them kids! The little chap's just at the best age to train for the tight-rope an' the trapeze. An' the la.s.s, with her yeller curls an' big eyes same's a wax doll's--my, just you picter the crowds she'll draw, trippin'

round so pretty-like with Bruno at her foot! Can't you see the big bills an' posters starin' at you from every wall, flarin' out o' every winder:--

"'_The Wonderful Child Acrobat! The Most Marvellous Aeronaut of the Age! Little Boy-b.u.t.terfly, and Bambo the Musical Dwarf!_

"'_Sweet Sissy Sunnylocks, and Bruno the Performing Bear!_

"'_Countless other attractions! Come one, come all, To the Satellite Company's Variety Hall!_'

"What do you think o' that, Moll, my lady? That'll empty folk's pockets, or Joe Harris is mistaken for once in his life. My, this _is_ a stroke o' luck!" and Mr. Harris rubbed his dirty hands together and laughed gleefully. "We've been on the lookout for a couple o' youngsters this many a day; now we've hit upon them at last. A bear an' a dwarf's all very well, but there's nothin' that touches the hearts an' reaches the coins o' an audience like a kid, especially if it has got great innercent eyes an' golden hair!"

"Oh, it's mighty fine for _you_, no doubt," said Moll angrily. "You'll eat an' drink your fill, an' dress up in fine clo'es o' an off evenin'

to go rollickin' about an' enjoy yourself. But what good'll it do _me_, I'd like to know?" she asked shrilly. "I share yer dirty work, I know, but precious little else; just grub, grub away all the year roun', with never a bit o' pleasure, nor a st.i.tch o' handsome things to my back!"

"I'll give you a silk gownd, Moll, I declare I will, if this bold venture turns out for us what I expect--whatever colour you please; only say the word," said Mr. Harris grandly.

"I'd like claret--a nice bright claret with plenty o' lace, an' that s.h.i.+ny trimmin' wi' tinsel through it," admitted Moll, beginning to recover her good humour, and flas.h.i.+ng a smiling glance into the squinty eye fixed somewhere about her forehead. "Ay, an' what else?" she demanded, determined to take full advantage of her husband's unusually bland mood.

"I'll buy you a gold ring too, my girl--one o' them real s.h.i.+ners,"

promised Joe, thinking that as he was in for the penny he might as well pledge himself to the pound. "Ah! that makes you sit up, I'm thinkin',"

and the generous man gave his wife a playful poke in the ribs.

"Reely an' truly, Joe, fair an' square? A true di'mon', an' none o' your sham bits o' gla.s.s?" cried Moll in ecstasy.

"Fair an' square, my woman; a real di'mon' as big's a pea, Moll. There's my hand on't, if you just help me through wi' this little business. You can, you know, if you like."

"So help me bob!" said Moll quite solemnly, and the well-matched pair shook hands over their guilty compact. And thus Moll, who in her better moods might have befriended the children, pledged herself, for sake of vanity and greed, to work her hardest for their undoing.