Quicksilver Part 57

"Master may have tutors as is clergymen to teach him, and Miss Helen may talk and try, but he's got it in him, and you can't get it out."

"Who are you talking about, Maria," said the old lady testily.

"That boy," said Maria, shaking her head. "It's of no good, he's got it in him, and nothing won't get it out."

"Bless my heart!" cried Mrs Millett, thinking first of mustard and water, and then of castor-oil, "has the poor fellow swallowed something?"

"No-o-o-o!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Maria, drawing the word out to nearly a foot in length.

"But you said he'd got something in him, Maria. Good gracious me, girl!

what do you mean!"

"Sin and wickedness, Mrs Millett. He comes of a bad lot, and Dan'l says he's always keeping bad company."

"Dan'l's a chattering old woman, and had better mind his slugs and snails."

"But the boy's always in mischief; see how he spoiled your silk dress."

"Only spotted it, Maria, and it was clean water. I certainly thought it rained as I went under his window."

"Yes, and you fetched your umbrella."

"I did, Maria. But he's better now. Give him his physic regular, and it does him good."

"Did you find out what was the matter with those salts and senny!"

"No, Maria, I did not. I had to break the gla.s.s to get it out; set hard as a stone. It was a good job he did not take it."

Mrs Millett never did find out that Dexter had poured in cement till the gla.s.s would hold no more, and his medicine became a solid lump.

"Ah, you'll be tired of him soon," said Maria.

"No, I don't think I shall, Maria. You see he's a boy, and he does behave better. Since I told him not, he hasn't taken my basting-spoon to melt lead for what he calls nickers; and then he hasn't repeated that wicked cruel trick of sitting on the wall."

"Why, I see him striddling the ridge of the old stable, with his back to the weatherc.o.c.k, only yesterday."

"Yes, Maria, but he wasn't fis.h.i.+ng over the wall with worms to try and catch Mrs Biggins's ducks, a very cruel trick which he promised me he wouldn't do any more; and he hasn't pretended to be a cat on the roof, nor yet been to me to extract needles which he had stuck through his cheeks out of mischief; and I haven't seen him let himself down from the stable roof with a rope; and, as I told him, that clothes-line wasn't rope."

"Ah, you always sided with the boy, Mrs Millett," said Maria; "but mark my words, some of these mornings we shall get up and find that he has let burglars into the house, and Master and Miss Helen will be robbed and murdered in their beds."

"Maria, you're a goose," said the old housekeeper. "Don't talk such rubbish."

"Ah, you may call it rubbish, Mrs Millett, but if you'd seen that boy just now stealing--"

"Stealing, Maria?"

"Yes 'm, stealing into Master's study like a thief in the night--and after no good, I'll be bound,--you wouldn't be so ready to take his part."

"Gone in to write his lessons," said Mrs Millett. "There, you go and get about your work."

Maria snorted, stuck out her chin, and left the kitchen.

"Yes, she may talk, but I say he's after no good," muttered the housemaid; "and I'm going to see what he's about, or my name ain't what it is."

Meanwhile Dexter was very busy in the study, but in a furtive way writing the following letter in a bold, clear hand, which was, however, rather shaky in the loops of the letters, while the capitals had an inclination to be independent, and to hang away from the small letters of the various words:--

Sir,

Me and a friend have borrowed your boat, for we are going a long journey; but as we may keep it all together, I send to you fourteen s.h.i.+llings and a fourpny piece, which I have saved up, and if that isn't quite quite enough I shall send you some more. I hope you won't mind our taking your boat, but Bob Dimsted says we must have it, or we can't get on.

Yours af--very truly,

Obed Coleby, or To Sir Jhames Danby, Dexter Grayson.

Dexter's spelling was a little shaky here and there, but the letter was pretty intelligible; and, as soon as it was done, he took out his money and made a packet of it, and doubled it up, a task he had nearly finished, when he became aware that the door was partly opened, and as he guiltily thrust the packet into his pocket the door opened widely, and Maria entered, with a sharp, short cough.

"Did I leave my duster here, Master Dexter!" she said, looking round sharply.

Before Dexter could reply, she continued--

"No, I must have left it upstairs."

She whisked out and closed the door with a bang, the very opposite of the way in which she had opened it, and said to herself triumphantly--

"There, I knew he was doing of something wrong, and if I don't find him out, my name ain't Maria."

Dexter hurriedly finished his packet, laying the money in it again after further consideration--in and out amongst the paper, so that the money should not c.h.i.n.k, and then placing it in the enclosure with the letter, he tied it up with a piece of the red tape the doctor kept in a little drawer, sealed it, and directed it in his plainest hand to Sir James Danby.

Dexter felt better after this was done, and the jacket-pocket a little bulgy in which his missive was stuffed. He had previously felt a little uneasy about the boat; but though not quite at rest now, he felt better satisfied, and as if this was a duty done.

That same evening, just before it grew dusk, Dexter watched his opportunity, and stole off down the garden, after making sure that he was not watched.

There was no one visible on the other side, and it seemed as if Bob Dimsted was not coming, so after waiting a few minutes Dexter was about to go back to the house, with the intention of visiting his pets, when there was a loud chirping whistle from across the river.

Dexter looked sharply through the gathering gloom; but still no one was visible, and then the chirp came again.

"Are you there, Bob?"

"Why, course I am," said that young gentleman, rising up from where he had lain flat behind a patch of coa.r.s.e herbage. "I'm not the sort of chap to stay away when I says I'll come. Nearly ready!"

"Ye-es," said Dexter.

"No gammon, you know," said Bob. "I mean it, so no s.h.i.+rking out."

"I mean to come too," said Dexter with a sigh.

"Well, you do sound jolly cheerful; you don't know what a game it's going to be."