Part 66 (2/2)

”Here, d.i.c.k, shut that window!”

d.i.c.k evidently did not hear him, and a low giggling laugh reached his ears.

”They had better not try to play any tricks with me,” said Arthur to himself, as he lay frowning and feeling very much dissatisfied, as he thought, with d.i.c.k, but really with himself.

Then he heard more laughing, the sound of steps in the garden, and something thump against the wall of the house.

There was no mistake now about Arthur's wakefulness, as he lay with the clothes drawn right above his nose; one eye glanced at the window, and he breathed quickly with indignation as d.i.c.k drew a little on one side to make room for Will, who had obtained the short ladder used by his uncle to nail up his creepers, and placed it against the wall, and he was now on the top with his jersey-covered arms resting on the window-sill, and his sun-browned face above them looking in.

”Good-morning, sir!” he said merrily. ”Want anybody to help you dress?”

”How dare you!” cried Arthur indignantly. ”Go away, and shut that window directly. It's disgraceful. We had no business to come to such a place as this,” he continued, forgetting all his good resolves, and giving rein to his anger.

”Why, hullo! what's all this?” said Mr Temple, entering the room, dressed for going out.

”I'm glad you've come, papa,” cried Arthur, whose face was scarlet with anger. ”These boys have--”

”Oh, I say, Taff, don't be disagreeable,” cried d.i.c.k. ”It was all my doing, father. Taff wouldn't get up, and Will here had come to call us, and I told him to get up the ladder and look in, pretending that there _was_ a seal in a cave, and Taff turned cross about it.”

”Get up directly, Arthur,” said Mr Temple quietly, ”and make haste down. How would to-day do to visit the seal-cave?” continued Mr Temple, turning to Will.

”I came to tell the young gentlemen it was just the morning, sir,” said Will, who was feeling very uncomfortable. ”It is as still as can be, and the tide will suit. I should go, sir, directly after breakfast.”

”And so we will,” said Mr Temple. ”There, finish dressing, d.i.c.k,” he said, as Will slid down the ladder and took it away. ”I thought there was to be no more of this petty anger, Arthur. You are old enough to know better, and yet you behave like a fractious child. Don't tease him, d.i.c.k; he can't bear it, I suppose.”

Mr Temple left the room, and d.i.c.k went on hurriedly dressing, while Arthur, flushed and uncomfortable, sat in his trousers on the edge of the bed, his hair touzled and the pillow creases marked like a map on his right cheek.

”Here, I say, get dressed, Taff,” cried d.i.c.k, ”and let's go down and collect some sea-anemones before breakfast.”

”I don't want to dress,” said Arthur. ”I'm always wrong. I'm a miserable wretch, and n.o.body understands me. I sha'n't go to the seal-cave to-day.”

”Yes, you will,” cried d.i.c.k, who was very sympathetic but very busy, for he had suddenly awakened to the fact that he had put too much pomatum on his hair. The result was that it looked s.h.i.+ny and greasy, and there was nothing for it but to give it a good rub over with the sponge and then towel it, which he was doing by holding the cloth over his head, and sawing it vigorously to and fro.

”No, I shall not go,” said Arthur despondently. ”I shall stop at home.”

”So shall I then,” said d.i.c.k panting, and out of breath from his exertions. ”It's all right, Taff, I tell you. Get dressed. You'll feel as different as can be when you've had your breakfast. That's what's the matter with you. It makes you feel cross sometimes when you are so precious hungry.”

Arthur sat unmoved, making no effort to dress, and d.i.c.k, who was nearly complete, wanting only his jacket, turned to him once more.

”Come on, Taff,” he cried. ”Get dressed, and let's find some anemones, and put in a tub of salt-water. We can feed 'em on shrimps.”

”I wish we were back in london,” said Arthur bitterly.

”What! to have the fellows shouting 'sweep!' and the girls beating the mats and knocking their brooms against the area railings as you're dressing. No, thank you. I like being here. Oh, I say, how lovely old Mr Marion's flowers smell! Here's a lugger! Hi, Will, what boat's that?”

”The _Grey Gull_, Thomson's boat,” came up from the garden. ”Been out all night for pilchards. I'll go down and get some for bait.”

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