Part 22 (1/2)
The name of the police sounded terribly in Myra's ears.
”The _Good Intent_ will be sailing to-night; I heard Peter Benny say so,”
she suggested; ”and the _Mary Rowett_ to-morrow, if the weather holds.”
Tom Trevarthen nodded. ”That's so, missy. Old man Hanc.o.c.k of the _Good Intent_ wants a hand, to my knowledge. I'll try 'en, or else walk to Falmouth. Don't you fret for me,” he repeated.
They had reached the gate of Hall, over which a gigantic chestnut spread its branches. As Myra faced Tom Trevarthen a laugh sounded overhead; and, looking up, she saw Master Calvin's legs and elastic-sided boots depending from a green bough.
”Hullo, Myra!” Master Calvin called down. ”How d'you get on up at the Board School?”
”_He_ don't go to Board School,” said Tom Trevarthen, jerking his thumb up towards the bough. ”In training to be a gentleman, _he_ is; not like Master Clem. Well, good-bye, missy!”
Myra watched him down the road, and, as he disappeared at the bend, flung a glance up at the chestnut tree.
”Come down,” she commanded, in no loud voice, but firmly.
”Shan't.”
”What are you doing up there?” She sniffed the air, her sense of smell alive to a strange scent in it. ”You nasty, horrid boy, you're smoking!”
”I'm not,” answered Master Calvin untruthfully, concealing a pipe.
”I'm up here pretending to be Zacchaeus.”
Myra without more ado pushed open the gate and went up the path to the house. In less than two minutes she was back again.
”Come down.”
”Shan't.”
”Very well. I'm going to Zacchaeus you.”
”What's that in your hand?”
”It's grandfather's powder-flask; and I've a box of matches, too.”
CHAPTER XIV.
MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS.
Hester's cupboard contained a small case of plasters, lint, ointments, etc., for childish cuts and bruises. She despatched a couple of boys to the playground pump to fetch water, and then glanced at Mrs. Purchase interrogatively.
”Better send for a doctor, I suppose?” said Mrs. Purchase.
”I think, if we bathe the wound, we can tell better what's necessary.
Will _you_--?”
”I reckon the job's more in your line. You've the look o' one able to nurse--yes, and you've the trick of it, I see,” Mrs. Purchase went on, as Hester knelt, lifted the sufferer's head, and motioned to the boys to set down their basin of water beside her. ”I'll clear the children out to the playground and keep 'em quiet. Call, if you want anything; I'll be close outside.” The good lady shepherded them forth with brisk authority; not for nothing had she commanded a s.h.i.+p these thirty years.