Part 7 (1/2)

But he found the task too difficult. The rope was hard and tough, and time was fast pa.s.sing. His teeth and jaws quite ached with the unwonted use to which he was putting them. So after thinking over another plan he changed his tactics entirely.

Though his wrists were tied, his fingers were comparatively free; he could, for instance, grasp firmly with them anything that was not very large. He had noticed that the end of the rope tethering the boat had been tied to the bough of a young willow near the water's edge. He resolved to break that bough, and then slowly work the boat along by pulling at the gra.s.s, reeds, or anything on the bank. In a short time he carried out the first part of his programme.

Compared with gnawing at the hard rope, the twisting of the supple bough backwards and forwards, until he wrested it from the parent stem, was but a light task. It was more difficult to work the boat along against the stream. Yet by patience and pluck and perseverance--the three ”p's” that all young folks should seek to acquire--he managed to succeed.

”Should that man come back to trouble me,” he said, ”he will find me gone; that will be something. Still I do not quite see how I am to get the things for the house, tied as I am to this boat.”

Pluckily he pulled at the gra.s.s and reeds, and worked the boat along.

When he had gone some distance from the point where the man had fastened the boat, he shouted again, and he continued to shout at intervals. But no cry answered his own. There was no sound but the lapping of the water against the boat or the murmur of the wind.

So some time pa.s.sed. Alfy was getting very weary and hungry. There seemed no chance of help coming to him, and the situation was the more vexing, as he felt that his knife in his pocket, if he could but have got it, would soon have made short work of the knots. But in the circ.u.mstances the knife might have been left at the house, for all the good it was to him.

At length he came to the place where the flood poured into the river.

”Hurrah!” he cried, ”this does look like making progress. Now I will try and get as near as I can to the house.”

It was at times more difficult to make progress on the flood than on the stream, for there was no decided bank such as edged the river; but he took advantage where he could of anything on the brink of the water, such as a hurdle or a bush, a stile or a hedge, and pluckily kept at his work.

In the village, Mr. Daw was getting quite fidgety at Alfy's absence.

”What can have happened to the lad?” said he. ”The boy would surely not be so long in finding a boat, and if he could not find one he would have been here to say so. Jones, just you put all these things in the pony cart and get as near as you can to Fairglen.” Fairglen was the right and proper name of the Island House.

”He has evidently been to other shops,” continued Mr. Daw. ”Here's a large sirloin of beef from Smithers, and quite a cargo of bread from Deane's, and vegetables and fruit from Wilson's. Why, good gracious me! one would think they were going to stand a siege up at Fairglen.

I 'spect it is as the lad says, they've got nothing at all to eat.

What can be keeping the boy I can't think.”

”Prap's he's tumbled into the water, please, sir, and got drownded,”

drawled out Jones slowly.

”Get on quickly and put these things in the cart,” said his master sharply. Jones' slow ways and stupid remarks generally annoyed Mr. Daw.

In quick time the goods for the Island House were packed in the grocer's little cart, and the slow Jones seated himself in front.

”Drive as near to Fairglen as you can,” said his master, ”and shout aloud to attract attention. Now, mind you deliver the goods quickly.”

”As quickly as I can,” replied Jones, a grin slowly spreading over his expansive face.

Thus it came about in time that while Alfy was slowly working his way along by the brink of the flood, the well-meaning but rather stupid Jones was staring in profound astonishment at the tub and the tin bath Alfy had left in the morning.

”Well, I never!” exclaimed Jones. ”They be rum boats, they be!”

He had driven the cart up the lane as far as he could, and after tethering the horse, was now rambling beside the water.

”But how I'm to carry the meat and taters and sugars over to the house in them things I don't know!”

Then he remembered his master's injunction to shout, and he shouted accordingly. ”I wish I knew where that young gent had got to!”

continued Jones, and again he raised his hoa.r.s.e voice, and shouted.

”Why, what's that 'ere?” he exclaimed. ”Is it an ecker, or is it the young gent?”