CHAPTER LXXII.
THE PICNIC--FIGGINS AGAIN IN TROUBLE.
After Jack had placed the beautiful girl in safety, he arranged for Mr.Mole to tell him the news from home.
"Your dear father and mother are in a woeful state about you, Jack,"said Mole.
"Why?" asked young Jack.
"I don't like beginning with reproaches, my boy," returned Mr. Mole,"but I must, of course, tell you. Your little extravagances have beentroubling your father a great deal."
"I can throw some light on that subject," replied Jack. "I have beenrobbed. Cheques have been stolen from my book, and my signatureforged."
Mr. Mole looked grave.
"Is this the fact?" he asked.
"Of course. However, we need not go further into that just now. Give methe news. How is Emily?"
"Very well in health, but spirits low--sighing for her Jack," saidMole, wickedly.
"Did she tell you so?" demanded Jack.
"Not exactly, but I can see as far through a stone wall as mostpeople."
"Yes, sir, I believe you can," said Jack. "That is about the limit ofyour powers of observation."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Mole. "But I know how to comfort Emily, deargirl. She'll be quite resigned to your prolonged absence when she getsnews of you. I have already written home to explain the oddcircumstances under which I met you--that you were shut up in some darkroom with a lovely Circassian girl, and that you subsequently rescuedher, and how very fond of you the lovely Circassian seems, and----"
"I wish you would only meddle with affairs that concern you, Mr. Mole,"said Jack, stiffly. "I don't want you to furnish information to anybody about my movements."
"Very good," replied Mr. Mole, "I won't, then. I thought I might send asecond letter, to say that I was quite sure you did not care a fig forthe lovely Circassian."
Jack thought that this might be a desirable move, and so he tried tosquare matters a bit.
"Do so, and I will be your friend," he said.
"Consider it done," exclaimed Mole. "I like you as I did, and do, yourfather, but I must have my joke."
* * * *
The perilous adventures which our friends had encountered on theirexpedition did not deter them from further enterprises.
Only two days after the events just recorded, Jack's party set out on apicnic excursion, to examine the beauties of the surroundingneighbourhood.
It was not towards the desert that they directed their steps this time,but in the opposite direction.
Mr. Figgins, upon this journey, showed his usual talent for gettinginto scrapes.
On passing under a group of fine fig-trees, nothing would suit him buthe must stand upon his mule's saddle in order to reach some of thefruit.
As he was still not high enough to do this, he made a spring up andcaught one of the lower branches, to which he clung.
Suddenly the mule, we know not from what cause, bolted from underneath,leaving the luckless orphan suspended.
Mr. Figgins soon relinquished the search in his anxiety for his ownsafety.
He saw beneath him a descent of some ten feet, and at the bottom adense bed of stinging nettles.
How was he to get down?
Dropping was out of the question, for it would be like a leap intocertain torture.
However, Harkaway called out to him to hold on, but not so loudly asFiggins bawled all the while for help.
Meanwhile, Bogey and Tinker had started after the escaped mule, whichthey found some difficulty in capturing.
When it was at length secured, the animal was placed in his formerposition under the tree, and firmly held by the two negroes.
"Now let yourself down, Figgins," cried Jack; "drop straight andsteady."
Figgins tried his best to obey.
When he let go the branch, it rebounded with a force that threw him outof the perpendicular, and instead of landing upon the mule's back, hefell and landed on the bed of stinging nettles.
The orphan roared lustily--as indeed well he might--for, besides beingshaken by the fall, the pain he soon felt in every portion of his frameexposed to the nettles was excruciating.
When the party emerged from the forest, a scene of unusual beauty brokeupon their vision.
"This is a charming spot," observed Harkaway.
"And just the thing for a picnic," added Harry. "I vote we halt underthose trees and begin operations."
Hampers were then unpacked, bottles uncorked, and application made to apure stream of water which flowed near the spot.
At length all was ready.
Poor orphan, the first mouthful he took seemed to consist of cayennepepper.
The cup of water, to which he naturally applied for relief, alsoappeared to have been tampered with, for it tasted as salt as the brinyocean itself.
Next, and also naturally, he drew forth his pockethandkerchief, but erehe could carry it to his mouth, dropped it in haste and with a cry ofhorror, for it contained an enormous frog, which, in its struggles toescape, fell plump into his plate.
Mr. Mole laughed loudly, whereat Mr. Figgins was naturally offended atthe schoolmaster, and began to suspect that it was he who had beenplaying these practical jokes upon him.
Bogey and Tinker, the real promoters of the orphan's discomfiture,observed this with great inward mirth, but they soon afterwards gotinto a little trouble themselves.
Harkaway, turning suddenly round, discovered the two black imps makingsad havoc with the sweets.
"You young scoundrels," shouted Jack, angrily grasping his riding-whip;"take your fingers off that jam pot immediately."
"I was on'y a-openin' it, sar, ready for de company," exclaimed theunabashed Tinker.
"What's that you have in your hand, Bogey?" proceeded Harkaway,alluding to something which the darkey was hiding suspiciously behindhim.
"Only a bit o' bread I brought in my pocket, sar," was the reply.
"Show it us, then, directly, sir."
Bogey accordingly produced a crust from apparently a loaf of the weekbefore last, but while doing so, Jack's sharp eyes detected that thenigger dropped some other eatable, in his hurried endeavour to ram itinto his pockets unseen.
"There, our large currant and raspberry tart!" exclaimed Harkaway. "Youartful monkey. I owe you one for this, and I mean to pay you now."
Darting at them, Jack just managed to give Bogey and Tinker a cut eachon the shoulders with his whip as they nimbly scampered off, bothbellowing as though they were being murdered.
But rapid as was the action, Nero saw an opportunity in it whereof hetook advantage, for he pounced upon the well-bitten tart, and bore itaway in triumph.
This episode, however, was soon forgotten, and Mole began to relateadventures of himself which would have done credit to Baron Munchausen,while Figgins, not to be outdone, told wonderful stories of high lifein which he had been personally engaged.