Part 6 (1/2)
The boy's actions the next minute were rather curious, for he followed to the door, turned the little handle that shot the small bolt into its socket, and then, after a conspirator-like glance at both the windows, he went to the bookcase and took down six or eight books from the lower shelf, to place them on a chair, before he hurried back to the table, caught up a nice hot plate and a fork, and then transferred half a dozen out of the eight nicely browned meat buns from the dish, carried the plate to the opening in the bookshelf, and pushed it as far back as it would go.
Returning to the table, he paid his next attentions to a little pile of hot and b.u.t.tered bread cakes, a kind of food in which Martha excelled.
Taking up a couple of these, one in each hand, he was moving once more towards the bookcase, but turned back directly.
”Sure to be dusty in there,” he muttered; and, turning back to the table, he deposited the cakes in a plate, which the next minute was standing beside its fellow in the back of the bookcase.
The boy's next act was to replace the books; but there was not room for them and the plates, and the consequence was that they projected about a couple of inches from the edge of the shelf, while when he tried to shut the gla.s.s bookcase door, it too, stood a little way out.
”Don't suppose she will see,” he muttered, and, satisfied now with what he had done, he went and unbolted the dining-room door, and, feeling very guilty, took his place at the table, poured out his tea, was very liberal with the sugar and milk, and then helped himself to one of the two sausage cakes left and a slice of hot bread.
He had got about half-way through Martha's appetising cake and had taken three good half-moon bites out of a slice of hot bread, thinking deeply the while, and munching mechanically with his mouth full, but quite unconscious of the flavour of that which he ate, when the door was thrown open and Bella entered, making the boy jump and feel more guilty than ever.
”It's only me, Master Waller. I have just come to see how you are getting on,” continued the girl, as she advanced towards the table, scanning everything that it held, ”and whether I can--oh, my!” she burst out, s.n.a.t.c.hing up her ap.r.o.n and holding it to her mouth to try and stifle back an immoderate burst of laughter.
The next moment she had rushed out of the room, this time allowing the door to bang behind her, while Waller jumped up, staring hard at the partly closed bookcase door as if to read there the cause of the girl's quick exit.
”She must have been watching at the keyhole,” he muttered to himself, for a guilty conscience needs no accuser, ”and she's gone to tell cook.”
But it was something quite different that Bella was telling her fellow-servant, after throwing herself down in one of the kitchen chairs and laughing hysterically till she cried and choked.
”Oh, don't be such a stupid,” grunted plump Martha, standing over her and thumping her back. ”What is it you have seen? Don't keep it all to yourself. What are you laughing at? You will have a fit directly.”
”Oh! oh! oh-h-oh!” sobbed Bella. ”Do leave off, cook. You _hurt_.”
”Then tell me what you are laughing at.”
”He's--he's--he's--oh, dear!--oh, dear! I never saw such a sight in my life! I hadn't been gone more than five minutes when--ho! ho! ho! ho!”
”Look here,” cried cook, who was enjoying her fellow-servant's mirth, and who began thumping again at poor Bella's back, ”do you want me to thump it out of you?”
”Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Do a-done, cook!” sobbed out Bella, hysterically and incoherently. ”Not more than five minutes, and his mouth so full he couldn't speak, and his eyes staring at me out of his head, and he had gobbled up nearly all the sausage cakes and all the hot bread, and I don't know how many cups of tea he had had, but the one before him was quite full. But oh, Martha, do a-done, and let me laugh it out, or I shall die!”
Plump Martha's face was wreathed with smiles, and she chuckled a little audibly at her fellow-servant's mirth, while her pleasant little vanity was agreeably tickled at the appreciation of her culinary efforts all the while.
”You are such a stupid, Bella,” she said, good-humouredly. ”When once you begin to laugh you never know how to leave off. I don't see anything to laugh at. Poor dear boy, he'd had no dinner, and only a morsel of cold pork-pie since breakfast, and he does like my cakes.”
CHAPTER SEVEN.
SECRET PREPARATIONS.
Waller's appet.i.te was gone. The girl seemed to have taken it out of the room with her, and the boy thrust his hands into his pockets and sat thinking for some time about his plans, and ended by rising from his hardly touched meal to cross to the bell. But a fresh idea occurred to him, and, going back to the table, he took his untouched cup, carried it carefully to the open window, and emptied it upon a flower-bed; then, returning the cup, he rang the bell, waited till he heard Bella's step in the hall, and then began to parade in a sort of ”sentry go” up and down in front of the partly open bookcase, while the maid, after a glance at the boy's averted countenance and frowning face, not daring to catch his eye for fear of bursting out into a fresh fit of laughter, began to clear the table.
Neither spoke till the task was pretty well finished, and then the girl looked up at Waller, next at the table, and lastly about the room.
”Well,” she exclaimed, ”if I couldn't declare that I brought two more plates!”
Waller paid no apparent heed to the remark, but continued his ”sentry go,” breathing rather hard the while, till Bella left the room, when he uttered a low sigh of relief.
But the boy's thoughts had not been idle during this time, and as soon as he was free to carry out his plans he opened the door, listened to the murmur of voices in the kitchen, and then ran to the bookcase, took out his supply of provender, had another listen, and then ran with the two plates upstairs, past the main set of bedrooms, and then up the next flight to a room in the front which was devoted to his pursuits.