Part 27 (1/2)
”Did you bring the winegla.s.ses?” Tommy asked him.
”No,” Gav said, ”the press was lockit, but I've brought egg-cups.”
”Stand round then.”
The three boys now presented a picturesque appearance, but there was none save the man in the moon to see them. They stood round the Cuttle Well, each holding an egg-cup, and though the daring nature of their undertaking and the romantic surroundings combined to excite them, it was not fear but soaring purpose that paled their faces and caused their hands to tremble, when Tommy said solemnly, ”Afore we do what we've come here to do, let's swear.”
”Stroke!” he said.
”Stroke!” said Gav.
”Stroke!” said Corp.
They then filled their cups and holding them over the well, so that they clinked, they said:
”To the king ower the water!”
”To the king ower the water!”
”To the king ower the water!”
When they had drunk Tommy broke his cup against a rock, for he was determined that it should never be used to honor a meaner toast, and the others followed his example, Corp briskly, though the act puzzled him, and Gav with a gloomy look because he knew that the cups would be missed to-morrow.
”Is that a' now?” whispered Corp, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
”All!” cried Tommy. ”Man, we've just begood.”
As secretly as they had entered it, they left the Den, and anon three figures were standing in a dark trance, cynically watching the revellers in the square.
”If they just kent!” muttered the smallest, who was wearing his jacket outside in to escape observation.
”But they little ken!” said Gav Dishart.
”They hinna a notion!” said Corp, contemptuously, but still he was a little puzzled, and presently he asked softly: ”Lads, what just is it that they dinna ken?”
Had Gav been ready with an answer he could not have uttered it, for just then a terrible little man in black, who had been searching for him in likely places, seized him by the cuff of the neck, and, turning his face in an easterly direction, ran him to family wors.h.i.+p. But there was still work to do for the other two. Walking home alone that night from Mr.
Patullo's party, Mr. Cathro had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being dogged. When he stopped to listen, all was at once still, but the moment he moved onward he again heard stealthy steps behind. He retired to rest as soon as he reached his house, to be wakened presently by a slight noise at the window, whence the flag-post protruded. It had been but a gust of wind, he decided, and turned round to go to sleep again, when cras.h.!.+ the post was plucked from its place and cast to the ground.
The dominie sprang out of bed, and while feeling for a light, thought he heard scurrying feet, but when he looked out at the window no one was to be seen; _Vivat Regina_ lay ign.o.bly in the gutters. That it could have been the object of an intended theft was not probable, but the open window might have tempted thieves, and there was a possible though risky way up by the spout. The affair was a good deal talked about at the time, but it remained shrouded in a mystery which even we have been unable to penetrate.
On the heels of the Queen's birthday came the Muckley, the one that was to be known to fame, if fame was willing to listen to Corp, as Tommy's Muckley. Unless he had some grand aim in view never was a boy who yielded to temptations more blithely than Tommy, but when he had such aim never was a boy so firm in withstanding them. At this Muckley he had a mighty reason for not spending money, and with ninepence in his pocket clamoring to be out he spent not one halfpenny. There was something uncanny in the sight of him stalking unscathed between rows of stands and shows, everyone of them aiming at his pockets. Corp and Gav, of course, were in the secret and did their humble best to act in the same unnatural manner, but now and again a show made a successful snap at Gav, and Corp had gloomy fears that he would lose his head in presence of the Teuch and Tasty, from which humiliation indeed he was only saved by the happy idea of requesting Tommy to shout ”Deuteronomy!” in a warning voice, every time they drew nigh Californy's seductive stand.
Was there nothing for sale, then, that the three thirsted to buy? There were many things, among them weapons of war, a pack of cards, more properly called Devil's books, blue bonnets suitable for Highland gentlemen, feathers for the bonnets, a tin lantern, yards of tartan cloth, which the deft fingers of Grizel would convert into warriors'
sashes. Corp knew that these purchases were in Tommy's far-seeing eye, but he thought the only way to get them was to ask the price and then offer half. Gav, the scholar, who had already reached daylight through the first three books of Euclid, and took a walk every Sat.u.r.day morning with his father and Herodotus, even Gav, the scholar, was as thick-witted as Corp.
”We'll let other laddies buy them,” Tommy explained in his superior way, ”and then after the Muckley is past, we'll buy them frae them.”
The others understood now. After a Muckley there was always a great dearth of pence, and a moneyed man could become owner of Muckley purchases at a sixth part of the Muckley price.
”You crittur!” exclaimed Corp, in abject admiration.