Part 3 (2/2)

As she spoke she caught hold of the nose of one of the portraits, which squeaked out ”Oh, oh, oh!” Kate's fancy was tickled, and she burst into a fit of laughter; her admiration, also, was much excited for her new governess. Digby came forth from behind the other portrait; Julian, whose nose had been caught literally in his own trap, drew it back as he did his tongue, which he had protruded as far as he could, and also came out looking very sheepish, without a word to say for himself.

Digby, however, in a manly way, at once said--”I beg pardon, Miss Apsley, I thought that we were going to play you a good trick, which would have frightened you very much; but I am glad it did not, and I am sure we are very sorry, and I hope you will forgive us.”

Miss Apsley's calmness had won Digby's admiration even in a greater degree than it had Kate's.

”Yes, indeed I will,” she replied, pleased at his frankness. ”It was silly and wrong in you, and the consequences might, in some instances, have been serious. I am bound to tell you this that I may warn you against playing such tricks in future; but as far as I am individually concerned I most heartily forgive you, and will entirely overlook the matter.”

Julian could not understand these sentiments, and thought Digby a very silly fellow to make what he called an unnecessary apology. They all went downstairs together, and then Kate took the governess to her room, and confessed that she had herself concocted the scheme which had so signally failed, and told her, indeed, all I have already described about the matter. With eager haste she undid, too, the apple-pie bed which Digby and Julian had made, and a.s.suring her how different a person she was to what she expected, promised that she would never again attempt to play her another trick, and that she would be answerable that Digby would not either.

”Why did you come out and show yourself, Digby?” said Julian, when they were alone together. ”I don't understand your way of doing things; if you had groaned, as it was arranged, when that Miss Apsley and Kate first appeared, we should have put her to flight, and I should not have had my nose pulled--she knows how to pinch hard let me tell you.”

Digby confessed that she really was so nice a person that he did not like to frighten her, and that had he not undertaken to groan, he could not have brought himself to do so at all.

Julian only sneered at this, and said no more on the subject.

It was most unfortunate for Digby that he had at that time so evil a counsellor as Julian to turn him aside from the right course, in which Miss Apsley was so anxious and so well able to direct him. Often and often have boys been warned to avoid bad companions. Let me a.s.sure my readers, that they are the emissaries of the evil one, and that their vocation is to destroy, both in body and soul, all who come under their influence.

CHAPTER THREE.

MORE MISCHIEF--JULIAN'S BAD ADVICE--DIGBY'S FIRST TUTOR--HOW TIME WAS SPENT AT OSBERTON--TOBY TUBB AND HIS YARNS.

There was a large gathering at Bloxholme Hall, both from far and near, of most of the princ.i.p.al families in the county. The house was full of those acquaintances of Mr and Mrs Heathcote who lived too far off to return the same night, but numbers came who were to drive home again the same evening.

There was an archery meeting in the morning, and then a dinner and a dance afterwards. Julian and Digby voted it very slow work. It was, probably, so to them. Kate liked the archery, and especially the dancing, for gentlemen asked her to dance, and chatted with her, and she skipped about like a little fairy, as merrily as possible. The boys had not gone in to the dinner, but they had helped themselves plentifully to the good things on which they could lay hands, and Julian especially had got hold of some wine. In consequence of this, he had become very pot-valorous.

”I'll tell you what, Digby,” said he, ”we must do something, or I shall go to sleep. This dancing is all nonsense. Come into the garden. I dare say I shall knock out an idea; it's seldom I fail, when I try.”

That was true; but they were very bad ideas Master Julian knocked out.

Before long they found their way into the court-yard, where the carriages of the company were left standing by themselves. The horses were in the stables, pleasantly munching their corn. The coachmen and grooms were in the servants' hall, as agreeably occupied in eating their suppers.

Julian went in and out among the carriages, and whatever rugs, or gloves, or wrappers, or halters he could find, he transferred from one carriage to the other.

”I say, Digby, it will be a capital joke,” he exclaimed. ”When the fat old coachmen come out, they'll all set to quarrelling. One will think that the other has stolen his things; and they will never dream that we did it.”

Digby thought the joke a good one, and helped to take the articles out of some carriages and to put them into others, till it was evidently almost impossible for any one, in the dark, to regain their lost property. When this was done, and the joke, as they called it, enjoyed, the boys sat down to consider what else they could do.

”I have a notion of something,” said Julian. ”It is dangerous, because, if we were found out, we should get into a terrible sc.r.a.pe; but I should like to try it.”

”What is it?” asked Digby, eagerly. ”As for the sc.r.a.pe, I don't mind that; I rather like the risk.”

”Well, young 'un, that's according to fancy,” said Julian. ”I like to take care of myself, but still I like fun. My notion is, that if we were to take the linch-pins out of the carriages we should see a scene not often beheld. As soon as they begin to move, the wheels will go spinning off in every direction, and the people will be spilt right and left into the road. Wouldn't it be fun?”

Digby did not think so. He could scarcely fancy that Julian was in earnest. ”Why, some of the coachmen might be killed,” he exclaimed; ”and the people inside would certainly be hurt.”

”Oh, nonsense,” answered Julian. ”You are qualmish. I'll do it. You just stand by and see. Look, they are out in a minute. Just untwist the wire. Here's somebody's chaise; I suspect it is the parson's.

There, he'll get a spill. Now, then, this old family coach; it belongs to those old frumps the Fullers. Lord, what fun, to see them all sprawling out into the road.”

Thus Julian went on, Digby felt very much inclined to stop him, and to entreat him to replace the linch-pins; but Julian rattled away, and was so amusing, that his first feeling of the wrong to which he was a party wore off. It never occurred to him that, if he could not stop Julian, his wisest course would have been to tell the coachmen to look to their linch-pins. Fortunately, many of the carriages had been built in London, and were supplied with patent boxes, so that they escaped the contemplated mischief.

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