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  Chapter X

  ANOTHER LITTLE DRIVE

  He ran across the courtyard, glancing up at the silent house behindhim. In the moonlight Mecklemburg House looked like a house of thedead. Through the gate, and out into the road; then, for a moment,Bertie paused.

  "Which way shall I go?"

  He stood, hesitating, looking up and down the road. In his anxiety toreach the Land of Golden Dreams he had not paused to consider whichwas the road he had to take to get there. Such a detail had notoccurred to him. He had taken it for granted that the road wouldchoose itself; now he perceived that he had to choose the road.

  "I'll go to London--something's sure to turn up when I get there. Italways does. In London all sorts of things happen to a fellow."

  His right hand in his pocket, clasping his one and fivepence, heturned his face towards Cobham. He had a vague idea that to reach townone had to get to Kingston, and he knew that through Cobham and Esherwas the road to Kingston. If he kept to the road the way was easy, hehad simply to keep straight on. He had pictured himself flying acrossthe moonlit fields; but he concluded that, for the present, at anyrate, he had better confine himself to the plain broad road.

  The weather was glorious. It was just about that time when the nightis about to give way to the morning, and there is that peculiar chillabroad in the world which, even in the height of summer, ushers in thedawn. It was as light as day--indeed, very soon it would be day;already in the eastern heavens were premonitory gleams of theapproaching sun. But at present a moon which was almost at the fullheld undisputed reign in the cloudless sky. So bright were her raysthat the stars were dimmed. All the world was flooded with her light.All was still, except the footsteps of the boy beating time upon theroad. Not a sound was heard, nor was there any living thing in sightwith the exception of the lad. Bertie Bailey had it all to himself.

  Bertie strode along the Cobham road at a speed which he believed to befirst rate, but which was probably under four miles an hour. Every nowand then he broke into a trot, but as a rule he confined himself towalking. Conscious that he would not be missed till several hours hadpassed, he told himself that he would have plenty of time to placehimself beyond reach of re-capture before pursuit could follow. Securein this belief, every now and then he stopped and looked about him onthe road.

  He was filled with a sense of strange excitement. He did not show thisin his outward bearing, for nature had formed his person in animpassive mould, and he was never able to dispossess himself of an airof phlegm. An ordinary observer would have said that this younggentleman was constitutionally heavy and dull, and impervious tostrong feeling of any sort. Mr. Fletcher, for instance, had been wontto declare that Bailey was his dullest pupil, and in continualpossession of the demons of obstinacy and sulkiness. Yet, on thisoccasion, at least, Bailey was on fire with a variety of feelings toevery one of which Mr. Fletcher would have deemed him of necessity astranger.

  It seemed to him, as he walked on and on, that he walked in fairyland.He was conscious of a thousand things which were imperceptible to hisoutward sense. His heart seemed too light for his bosom; to soar outof it; to bear him to a land of visions. That Land of Golden Dreamstowards which he travelled he had already reached with his mind's eye,and that before he had gone a mile upon the road to Cobham.

  Mecklemburg House was already a thing of the past That petty poringover books, which some call study, and which Mr. George WashingtonBankes had declared was such a culpable waste of time, was gone forever. No more books for him; no more school; no more rubbish of anykind. The world was at his feet for him to pick and choose.

  By the time he had got to Cobham he was making up his mind as to theparticular line of heroism to which he would apply himself. The oldtown, for Cobham calls itself a town, was still and silent, apparentlyunconscious of the glorious morning which was dawning on the world,and certainly unconscious of the young gentleman who was passingthrough its pleasant street, scheming schemes which, when brought tofull fruition, would proclaim him a hero in the sight of a universe ofmen.

  "I'll be a highwayman; I'd like to be; I will be. If a coach and fourwere to come along the road this minute I'd stop the horses. Yes! andI'd set one of them loose, and I'd mount it, and I'd go to the windowof the coach, and I'd say, 'Stand and deliver.' And I'd make them handover all they'd got, watches, purses, jewellery, everything--Ishouldn't care if it was L10,000."

  He fingered the one and fivepence in his pocket; the sound of therattling coppers fired his blood.

  "And then I'd dash away on the horse's back, and I'd buy a ship, andI'd man it with a first-rate crew, and I'd sink it in the middle ofthe sea. And, first of all, I'd fill the long-boat with everythingthat I could want--guns, and pistols, and revolvers, and swords, andbullets, and powder, and cartridges and things--and I'd get into italone, and I'd say farewell to the sinking ship and crew, and I'd rowoff to a desert island, and I'd stop there five-and-twenty years. Yes;and I'd tame all the birds and animals and things, and I'd be happy asa king. And then I'd come away."

  He did not pause to consider how he was to come away; but that was adetail too trivial to deserve consideration. By this time Cobham wasbeing left behind; but he saw nothing save the life which was to beafter he had left that desert isle.

  "I'd go to Sherwood Forest, and I'd live under the greenwood tree, andI'd form a band of robbers, and I'd have them dressed in green, andI'd seize the Archbishop of Canterbury, and I'd make him fight me withsingle-sticks, and I'd let the beggars go, and I'd give the poor allthe booty that I got."

  What the rest of the band would say to this generous distribution oftheir hard-earned gains was another detail which escapedconsideration.

  "And I'd be the oppressor of the rich and the champion of the poor,and I'd make everybody happy." How the rich were to be made happy byoppression it is difficult to see; but so few systems of philosophybear a rigorous examination. "And I'd have peace and plenty throughthe land, and I'd have lots of fighting, and if there was anybody inprison I'd break the prisons open and I'd let the prisoners out, andI'd be Ruler of the Greenwood Tree."

  His thoughts turned to Jack the Giant-Killer. By now the day wasreally breaking, and with the rising sun his spirits rose stillhigher. The moonlight merging into the sunshine filled the countrywith a rosy haze, which was just the kind of thing for magic.

  "I wish there still were fairies."

  If he only had had the eyes no fairyland would have been morebeautiful than the world just then.

  "No, I don't exactly wish that there were fairies--fairies are suchstuff; but I wish that there were giants and all that kind of thing.And I wish that I had a magic sword, and a purse that was always morefull the more you emptied it, and that I could walk ten thousand milesa day. I wish that you had only got to wish for a thing to getit--wouldn't I just start wishing! I don't know what I wouldn'twish for."

  He did not. The catalogue would have filled a volume.

  "But the chief thing for which I'd wish would be to be exactly where Iam, and to be going exactly where I'm going to."

  He laughed, and thrust his hands deeper in his pockets when he thoughtof this, and was so possessed by his emotions that he kicked up hisheels and began to dance a sort of fandango in the middle of the road.He perceived that it was a pleasant thing to wish to be exactly wherehe was, and to be so well satisfied with the journey's end he had inview. It is not every boy who is bound for the Land of Golden Dreams;and especially by the short cut which reaches it by way of the Cobhamroad.

  So far he had not met a single human being, nor seen a sign, nor hearda sound of one. But when he had fairly left Cobham in the rear, andwas yet engaged in the performance of that dance which resembled thefandango, he heard behind him the sound of wheels rapidly approaching.They were yet a considerable distance off, but they were approachingso swiftly that one's first thought was that a luckless driver wasbeing run away with. When Bertie heard them first he started. Histhou
ght was of pursuit; his impulse was to scramble into an adjoiningfield, and to hide behind a hedge. It would be terrible to bere-captured in the initiatory stage of his journey to the Land ofGolden Dreams.

  But his alarm vanished when he turned and looked behind him. Thevehicle approaching contained a friend. Even at that distance herecognised it as the dog-cart of Mr. George Washington Bankes. Theungainly-looking beast flying at such a terrific pace along the lonelyroad was none other than the redoubtable Mary Anne.

  In a remarkably short space of time the vehicle was level with Bertie.For a moment the boy wondered if he had been recognised; but the doubtdid not linger long, for with startling suddenness Mary Anne wasbrought to a halt.

  "Hallo! Who's that? Haven't I seen you before? Turn round, youyoungster, and let me see your face. I know the cut of your jib, orI'm mistaken."

  Bertie turned. He looked at Mr. Bankes and Mr. Bankes looked at him.Mr. George Washington Bankes whistled.

  "Whew--w--w, if it isn't the boy who stood up to the lout. What's yourname?"

  "Bailey, sir; Bertie Bailey."

  "Oh, yes; Bailey! Early hours, Bailey--taking a stroll, eh? What inthunder brings you here this time of day? I thought good boys like youwere fast asleep in bed."

  Bailey looked sheepish, and felt it. There was something in the toneof Mr. Bankes' voice which was a little trying. Bertie hung his head,and held his peace.

  "Lost your tongue? Poor little dear! Speak up. What are you doing herethis time of day?"

  "If you please, sir, I'm running away."

  "Running away!"

  For a moment Mr. Bankes started. Then he burst into a loud andcontinued roar of laughter, which had an effect upon Bertie veryclosely resembling that of an extinguisher upon a candle.

  "I say, Bailey, what are you running away for?"

  Under the circumstances Bertie felt this question cruel. When he hadlast seen Mr. Bankes the question had been put the other way. He hadbeen treated as a poor-spirited young gentleman because he had not runaway already. Plucking up courage, he looked up at his questioner.

  "You told me to run away."

  The only immediate answer was another roar of laughter. Something verylike tears came into the boy's eyes, and his face assumed thatcharacteristically sullen expression for which he was famous. This wasnot the sort of treatment he had expected.

  "You don't mean to say--now look me in the face, youngster--you don'tmean to say that you're running away because I told you to?"

  The last words of the question were spoken very deliberately, with aslight pause between each. Bertie's answer was to the point. He lookedup at Mr. Bankes with that sullen, bull-dog look of his, and said,--

  "I do."

  "And where do you think you're running to?"

  "To the Land of Golden Dreams."

  There was a sullen obstinacy about the lad's tone, as though theconfession was extracted from him against his will.

  "To the Land of Golden Dreams! Well! Here, you'd better get up. I'llgive you a lift upon the road? and there's a word or two I'd like tosay as we are going."

  Bertie climbed up to the speaker's side, and Mary Anne was again inmotion. The swift travelling through the sweet, fresh morning waspleasant; and as the current of air dashed against his cheeks Bertie'sheart began to re-ascend a little. For some moments not a word wasspoken; but Bertie felt that Mr. Bankes' big black eyes wandered fromMary Anne to him, and from him to Mary Anne, with a half-mocking,half-curious expression.

  "I say, boy, are any of your family lunatics?"

  The question was scarcely courteous. Bertie's lips shut close.

  "No."

  "Quite sure? Now just you think? Anybody on your mother's side just alittle touched? They say insanity don't spring to a head at once, butgathers strength through successive generations."

  Bailey did not quite understand what was meant; but knowing it wassomething not exactly complimentary he held his peace.

  "Now--straight out--you don't mean to say you're running away becauseI told you to?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "And for nothing else?"

  Bertie paused for a moment to consider.

  "I don't know about nothing else, but I shouldn't have thought of itif you hadn't told me to."

  "Then it strikes me the best thing I can do is to turn round and driveyou back again."

  "I won't go."

  Mr. Bankes laughed. There was such a sullen meaning in the boy's slowutterance.

  "Oh! won't you? What'll you do?"

  In an instant Bertie had risen from his seat, and if Mr. Bankes hadnot been very quick in putting his arm about him he would have sprungout upon the road. As it was, Mr. Bankes, taken by surprise, gave anunintentional tug at the left rein, and had he not corrected his errorwith wonderful dexterity Mary Anne would have landed the trap and itsoccupants in a convenient ditch.

  "Don't you try that on again," said Mr. Bankes, retaining his hold onthe lad.

  "Don't you say you'll drive me back again."

  "Here's a fighting cock. There have been lunatics in the family--Iknow there have. Don't be a little idiot. Sit still."

  "Promise you won't drive me back."

  "And supposing I won't promise you, what then?"

  Bertie's only answer was to give a sudden twist, and before Mr. Bankeshad realized what he intended he had slipped out of his grasp, and wassprawling on the road. Fortunately the trap had been brought to astandstill, for had Bertie carried out his original design ofspringing out with Mary Anne going at full speed, the probabilitiesare that he would have brought his adventures to a final terminationon the spot. Mr. Bankes stared for a moment, and then laughed.

  "Well, of all the young ones ever I heard tell of!"

  Then, seeing that Bertie had picked himself up, and was preparing toescape by scrambling through a quickset hedge into a field of uncuthay--

  "Stop!" he cried. "I won't take you back. I promise you upon my honourI won't. A lad of your kidney's born to be hanged; and if it's hangingyou've made up your mind to, I'm not the man to stop you."

  The lad eyed him doubtfully.

  "You promise you'll let me do as I please?"

  "I swear it, my bantam cock. You shall do as you please, and go whereyou please. I can't stop mooning here all day; jump in, and let's befriends again. I'm square, upon my honour."

  The lad resumed his former seat; Mary Anne was once more started.

  "Next time you feel it coming on, why, tip me the wink, and I'll pullup. It's a pity that a neck like yours should be broken before theproper time; and if you were to jump out while Mary Anne wastravelling like this, why, there'd be nothing left to do but to pickup the pieces."

  As Bertie vouchsafed no answer, after a pause Mr. Bankes went on.

  "Now, Bailey, joking aside, what is the place you're making for?"

  "I'm going to London."

  "London. Got any friends there?"

  "No."

  "Ever been there before?"

  "I've been there with father."

  "Know anything about it?"

  "I don't know much."

  "So I should say, by the build of you. I shouldn't be surprised if youknow more when you come back again--if you ever do come back again, mybantam. Shall I tell you what generally happens to boys like you whogo up to London without knowing much about it, and without any friendsthere? They generally"--Mr. Bankes, as it were, punctuated thesewords, laying an emphasis on each--"go under, and they stop under, andthere's an end of them."

  He paused; if for a reply, in vain, for there was none from Bailey.

  "Do you think London's the Land of Golden Dreams? Well, it is; that'sexactly what it is--it's the Land of Golden Dreams, and the dreams areshort ones, and when you wake from them you're up to your neck infilth, and you wish that you were dead. For they're nothing else butdreams, and the reality is dirt, and shame, and want, and misery, anddeath."

  Again he paused; and again there was no reply from Bertie. "How muchmoney h
ave you got?"

  "One and fivepence."

  "Is that all?"

  "Yes."

  "Well! well! I say nothing, but I think a lot. And do you mean to tellme that you're off to London with the sum of one shilling andfivepence in your pocket?"

  "You said you ran away with ninepence-halfpenny."

  "Well, that's a score! And so I did, but circumstances alter cases,and that was the foolishest thing that ever I did."

  "You said it was the most sensible thing you'd ever done."

  "You've a remarkable memory--a remarkable memory; and if you keep itup you'll improve as you go on. If I said that, I was a liar--I wasthe biggest liar that ever lived. I wonder if you could go through thesort of thing that I have done?"

  Mr. Bankes' eyes were again fixed on Bertie, as though he would takehis measure.

  "Most men would have been dead a dozen times. I don't know that Ihaven't been; I know I've often wished that I could have died justonce--that I could have been wiped clean out. God save you, young one,from such a life as mine. Pray God to pull you up in time."

  Another pause and then--

  "What's your plans?"

  "I don't know."

  "I shouldn't think you did by the look of you. And how long do yousuppose you're going to live, on the sum of one and fivepence?"

  "I don't know."

  "Well, I should say that with economy you could manage to live twohours--perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less; that's to say, anhour before you have your dinner and an hour after. Some could manageto stretch it out to tea, but you're not one. And when the money'sgone how do you suppose you're going to get some more?"

  "I don't know."

  "Now don't you think that I'd better turn Mary Anne right round, andtake you back again? You've had a pleasant little drive, you know, andthe morning air's refreshing."

  "I won't go, and you promised that you wouldn't."

  "You'll wish you had about this time to-morrow; and perhaps a littlebefore. However, a promise is a promise, so on we go. Know where youare?"

  Bailey did not; Mr. Bankes had turned some sharp corners, and havingleft the highroad behind was guiding Mary Anne along a narrow lane inwhich there was scarcely room for two vehicles to pass abreast.

  "These are the Ember lanes. There's East Molesey right ahead, then theThames, then Hampton Court, and then I'll have to leave you. I've comeround this way to stretch the old girl's legs." This was a gracefulallusion to Mary Anne. "My shortest cut would have been across WaltonBridge, as I'm off to Kempton to see a trial of a horse in which I'minterested; so when I get to Hampton Court I'll have to go some of myway back again. Now make up your mind. There isn't much time left todo it in. Say the word, and I'll take you all the way along with me,and land you back just where you started. Take a hint, and think a bitbefore you speak."

  Apparently Bertie took the hint, for it was a moment or two before heanswered.

  "I'm not going back."

  "Very well. That's the last time of asking, so I wish you joy on yourjourney to the Land of the Golden Dreams."