Part 58 (1/2)

John Young had brought their anvil, the 28 pound weight, for them to the bank, and it was s.h.i.+pped. He bought a small pot for boiling, the smallest size made, for them in Latten, also a saucepan, a tin kettle, and teapot. One of the wooden bottles, like tiny barrels, used to send ale out to the men in the fields, was filled with strong ale. Mark drew it in the cellar which had once been his prison, carefully filling it to the utmost, and this John got away for them rolled up in his jacket.

The all-potent wand of the enchanter Barleycorn was held over him; what was there he would not have done for them?

He was all the more ready to oblige them because since Mark's imprisonment in the cellar, Bevis and Mark had rather taken his part against the Bailiff, and got him out of sc.r.a.pes. Feeling that he had powerful friends at court, John did not trouble to work so hard. They called at the cottage for the pot and the other things, which were in a sack ready for them. Loo fetched the sack, and Bevis threw it over his shoulder.

”I scoured them well,” said Loo. ”They be all clean.”

”Did you?” said Bevis. ”Here,” searching his pocket. ”O! I've only a fourpenny piece left.” He gave it to her.

”I can cook,” said Loo wistfully, ”and make tea.” This was a hint to them to take her with them; but away they strode unheeding. The tin kettle and teapot clashed in the sack.

”I believe I saw Val behind that tree,” said Bevis.

”He can't see through a sack though,” said Mark.

The wind was still very light, and all the morning was occupied in delivering this cargo. The cave or store-room was now crammed full, and they could not put any more without shelves.

”That's the last,” said Mark, dragging the heavy anvil in. ”Except Pan.”

”And my books,” said Bevis, ”and ink and paper. We must keep a journal of course.”

”So we must,” said Mark. ”I forgot that. It will make a book.”

”'Adventures in New Formosa,'” said Bevis.

”We'll write it every evening after we've done work, don't you see.”

When they got home he put his books together--the Odyssey, Don Quixote, the grey and battered volume of ballads, a tiny little book of Shakespeare's poems, of which he had lately become very fond, and Filmore's rhymed translation of Faust. He found two ma.n.u.script books for the journal; these and the pens and ink-bottle could all go together in the final cargo with Pan.

All the while these voyages were proceeding they had been thinking over how they should get away from home without being searched for, and had concluded that almost the only excuse they could make would be that they were going to spend a week or two with Jack. This they now began to spread about, and pretended to prepare for the visit. As they expected, it caused no comment. All that was said was that they were not to stop too long. Mamma, did not much like the idea of being left by herself, but then it was quite different to their being away in disgrace.

But she insisted upon Bevis writing home. Bevis shrugged his shoulders, foreseeing that it would be difficult to do this as there was no post-office on New Formosa; but it was of no use, she said he should not go unless he promised to write.

”Very well,” said Bevis. ”Letters are the stupidest stupidity stupes ever invented.”

But now there arose a new difficulty, which seemed as if it could not be got over. How were they to tell while they were away on the island, and cut off from all communication with the mainland, what was going on at home; whether it was all right and they were supposed to be at Jack's, or whether they were missed? For though so intent on deceiving the home authorities, and so ingenious in devising the means, they stopped at this.

They did not like to think that perhaps Bevis's governor and mamma, who were so kind, would be miserable with anxiety on finding that they had disappeared. Mark, too, was anxious about his Jolly Old Moke. With the usual contradiction of the mind they earnestly set about to deceive their friends, and were equally anxious not to give them any pain.

After all their trouble, it really seemed as if this would prevent the realisation of their plans. A whole day they walked about and wondered what they could do, and got quite angry with each other from simple irritation.

At last they settled that they must arrange with some one so as to know, for if there was any trouble about them they meant to return immediately. Both agreed that little Charlie was the best they could choose; he was as quick as lightning, and as true as steel.

”Just remember,” said Bevis, ”how he fetched up Cecil in the battle.”

”That just made all the difference,” said Mark. ”Now I'll manage it with him; don't you come, you leave him to me; you're so soft--”

”Soft!--Well, I like that.”

”No; I don't mean stupid--so easy. There, don't look like that. You tell me--you think what Charlie must do--and I'll manage him.”

Bevis thought and considered that Charlie must give them a signal--wave a handkerchief. Charlie must stand on some conspicuous place visible from New Formosa; by the quarry would be the very place, at a certain fixed time every day, and wave a white handkerchief, and they could look through the telescope and see him. If anything was wrong, he could take his hat off and wave that instead. Mark thought it would do very well, and set out to find and arrange with Charlie.