Part 4 (2/2)

'Do as they say, child -' said Captain Hughes. Then he was gone.

Dido felt much aggrieved. Captain Hughes had not offered her a nuncheon! And she was decidedly hungry. Furthermore she was by no means enthusiastic about the sound of her Court apparel. White mull embroidered with cat-tails I shall look a right Charley in it, she thought glumly. And what possible use would it be on board s.h.i.+p?

Might as well get it over with, however.

'Ain't you a-going to measure me?' she demanded of the two women, who were, indeed, looking at her measuringly, but who made no move to take out their tape-measures.

'In a twinkling, dearie. Just a-waiting for the wampum.'

'Wampum?'

'The mish, the ready, spondulicks, mint-sauce! Us don't work on credit, lovie.'

What a havey-cavey pair, thought Dido. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could toss an eighteen-pounder.

'Going to see the queen, is she? There's a lucky young lady,' said Mrs Morgan, grinning.

'Indeed to goodness, yesV agreed her daughter.

'Many young ladies 'ud give their eyes wouldn't they, Nynevie?'

'The eyes out of their heads!'

At this moment Mr Windward entered the room, bearing the captain's shark-skin money-bag, from which he carefully proceeded to count out a hundred gold bezants. The two women stopped laughing and watched him with close and avaricious attention; their eyes wistfully followed the bag when, having pa.s.sed over the ten little heaps of ten coins, he tightened the strings, knotted them again, and took himself off.

'Hey Mr Windward!' called Dido, as he was about to leave the room.

'Well, young 'un?'

'Is Mr Holystone downstairs? Is he busy?'

'He is supervising the captain's repast. Do you wish me to give him a message?'

'Jist when he's free I'd be obliged if he'd get someone to fetch me a bite of prog. I'm nibblish sharp-set,' Dido said disconsolately.

Mr Windward's long serious face broke into a sympathetic grin as he looked at the two dressmakers waiting to start operations on Dido. He said, 'Very good, young 'un, I'll tell him to have a bite sent up to you.' The door clapped-to behind him.

'Well, now! Listen to Miss Throw-her-weight-around!' said Miss Morgan, with strong disapproval.

'Acts as if she were Lady Ettarde herself!'

'Little gels oughter be seen and not heard!'

'Us had best waste no time.

'Not a blessed minute.'

'Just you step this-a-way, dearie.'

Drawing their tape-measures from their belts, both women urged Dido towards the window.

'Come here where the light's better,' cooed old Mrs Morgan, and Mrs Vavasour said, 'See that pincus.h.i.+on, sweetheart? See all those pins in it? Can you make out what's writ there?'

A quant.i.ty of bra.s.s-headed pins were stuck into the fat cus.h.i.+on; they spelt out some word with a large number of 'x's in it. Dido, no great reader at best, shook her head.

'Study it a mite closer, dearie see if you can't make it out.'

Both women had her by the shoulders, now; they were forcing her head down on the pincus.h.i.+on. As it came closer to her face she discovered that it had a strong, sweet musky odour, somewhat resembling camphor, but much more powerful. . .

'Hey! Lemme go!' she said, struggling, but already her head was swimming, her voice seemed to come, not out of her own throat, but faintly, and from a long way off.

'That's the dandy! Now them, us'll jist oping this lid -'

With immense indignation, Dido realised that Mrs Vavasour had tied her hands behind her with a tape-measure, while Mrs Morgan opened the lid of the chest. Surprisingly, this proved to cover and surround a kind of stairhead; a flight of narrow steps led down steeply from it into blackness.

'Now, us'll jist help the liddle dear over the side '

'I'll not! I'll not go! Cap'n Hughes'll have your guts for garters when he hears of this ' gasped Dido, doing her best to fight the two women, who were half lifting, half dragging her over the side of the chest.

'Ah, but he won't hear, lovie, not till you're as lost as Lucy's pocket. You step down, Nynevie, hold her legs lucky she's sich a skinny one, her 'on't be no trouble to fetch to the boat '

Dido was rolled down the steps; Mrs Vavasour made no attempt to break her fall and she lay half-stunned at the bottom of the fairly long flight. A moment later she felt a thick blanket-like sack pulled over her legs and body; a string was drawn tight at the top, catching some of her hair painfully, and tied in a knot. Then she felt herself being dragged along the ground over rough uneven planks full of splinters, many of which pierced through the fabric of the bag, and also through Dido's skin. Her head and limbs were banged and thumped against the edges of boards; she was shaken and sc.r.a.ped and jounced and battered.

One good result of this unpleasant exercise, however, was that, after a few minutes of it, Dido, who had been at the start almost unconscious from the fumes of the pincus.h.i.+on, was jolted back into full, angry and wary intelligence. Blister them, the old bags, she thought; I'll not yammer to let them know I'm awake but what a gull I was! How could I be sich a nodc.o.c.k as not to twig their lay from the first minute? Any addlepate could see they was a pair of downy ones. Guess I'd best look out for myself in New c.u.mbria; Cap'n Hughes ain't used to sich goings-on. He'll be no more use here than a thread-paper parasol in a thunderstorm.

She had to bite her lip several times not to cry out. As she was ruthlessly dragged along she wrestled against the tape that bound her wrists until it cut into them. She thought she felt it give a little, and so persisted in spite of the pain.

'Lay aholt with me, Ma, and pull her down here,' said Mrs Vavasour's voice.

The bag was given a sudden vigorous jerk. Again, Dido felt herself rolling helplessly, over and over down a long b.u.mpy slope. By the time she came to a stop she was too dazed and bruised to do anything but lie motionless. To her joy, though, the tape round her wrists had finally broken. She was able to move her hands.

'Where'll we lay her?' came Mrs Vavasour's voice.

'There, on the dried fish.'

'What about rats, ma? Wouldn't do if her was to turn up gnawed. She 'on't have 'em if they ain't complete.'

Something in the woman's voice made Dido's skin crawl; also she did not care for the reference to rats.

'Oh, very well. On the axe-heads, then.'

The sack was hoisted up, and dropped heavily on to a pile of sharp edges and hard corners.

'When's the boat leave, ma?'

<script>