CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
MR. DENGATE IS INDIGNANT, AND DEXTER WANTS SOME "WUMS."
Mr Grayson was delighted when he heard the narrative from Helen.
"There! what did I tell you!" he cried. "Proofs of my theory."
"Do you think so, papa?"
"Think, my dear? I'm sure. Why, there it all was; what could have beenbetter? Young Danby has breed in him, and what did he do? Lay downlike a girl, and fainted. No, my dear, you cannot get over it. Pickyour subject if you will, but you may make what you like of a boy."
"I hope so, papa."
"That's right, my dear. Brave little fellow! Afraid I should scold himabout his cap? Thoughtless young dog, but it was all chivalrous.Couldn't have been better. He shall have a hundred caps if he likes.Hah! I'm on the right track, I'm sure."
The doctor rubbed his hands and chuckled, and Helen went to bed thatnight better pleased with her task.
Sir James Danby, who was the magnate of Coleby, sent a very furiousletter to Dengate the butcher, threatening proceedings against him forallowing a herd of dangerous bullocks to be at large in one of hisfields, and ordering him to remove them at once.
Dengate the butcher read the letter, grew red in the face, and, afterbuttoning up that letter in his breast-pocket, he put on his greasy cap,and went to Topley the barber to get shaved.
Dengate's cap was greasy because, though he was a wealthy man, he workedhard at his trade, calling for orders, delivering meat, and always twicea week, to use his own words, "killing hisself."
Topley lathered Dengate's red round face, and scraped it perfectlyclean, feeling it all over with his soapy fingers, as well as carefullyinspecting it with his eye, to make sure that none of the very bristlystubble was left.
While Topley shaved, Dengate made plans, and as soon as the operationwas over he went back home, and what he called "cleaned hisself." Thatis to say, he put on his best clothes, stuck a large showy flower in hisbutton-hole, cocked his rather broad-brimmed hat on one side of hishead, and went straight to Dr Grayson's.
Maria opened the door, stared at the butcher, who generally came to theback entrance, admitted him, received his message, and went into thestudy, where the doctor was writing, and Dexter busily copying a letterin a fairly neat round hand, but could only on an average get one wordand a half in a line, a fact which looked awkward, especially as Dextercut his words anywhere without studying the syllables.
Dexter had just left off at the end of a line, and finished the firstletters of the word toothache, leaving "toot" as his division, andtaking a fresh dip of ink ready for writing "hache."
"Don't put your tongue out, Dexter, my boy."
"All right," said Dexter.
"And I would not suck the pen. Ink is not wholesome."
"All right, I won't," said Dexter; and he put the nibs between his lips.
"Mr Dengate, sir," said Maria.
"Dengate? What does he want, Maria? Let him see Mrs Millett or MissHelen."
Maria looked scornfully at Dexter, as if he had injured her in some way.
"Which is what I said to him, sir. `Master's busy writing,' I says; buthe says his dooty, sir, and if you would see him five minutes he wouldbe greatly obligated."
The doctor said, "Send him in."
Maria left the room, and there was a tremendous sound of wiping shoesall over the mat, although it was a dry day without, and the butcher'sboots were speckless.
Then there was another burst of wiping on the mat by the study door as afinish off, a loud muttering of instructions to Maria, and the door wasopened to admit the butcher, looking hot and red, with his hat in onehand, a glaring orange handkerchief in the other, with which he dabbedhimself from time to time.
"Good morning, Dengate," said the doctor; "what can I do for you?"
"Good morning, sir; hope you're quite well, sir. If you wouldn't mind,sir, reading this letter, sir. Received this morning, sir. Sir James,sir."
"Read it? ah, yes," said the doctor.
He ran through the missive and frowned.
"Well, Dengate," he said, "Sir James is a near neighbour and friend ofmine, and I don't like to interfere in these matters."
"No, sir, of course you wouldn't, sir, but as a gentleman, sir, as Iholds in the highest respect--a gentleman as runs a heavy bill with me."
"Hasn't your account been paid, Dengate!" said the doctor, frowning,while Dexter looked hard at the butcher, and wondered why his face wasso red, and why little drops like beads formed all over his forehead.
"No, sir, it hasn't, sir," said the butcher, with a chuckle, "and I'mglad of it. I never ask for your account, sir, till it gets lumpy. Ialways leave it till I want it, for it's good as the bank to me, and Iknow I've only to give you a hint like, and there it is."
"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor.
"What I have come about is them bullocks, sir, hearing as your younglady, sir, and young shaver here--"
"Mr Dengate," said the doctor, frowning, "this young gentleman is myadopted son."
"Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure," said the butcher obsequiously. "I hadheared as you'd had taken a boy from the--"
"Never mind that, Dengate," said the doctor shortly, as the butcherdabbed himself hurriedly,--"business."
"Exactly, sir. Well, sir, it's like this here: I'm the last man in theworld to put dangerous beasts in any one's way, and if I knowed that anyone o' them was the least bit risky to a human being, he'd be bullockto-day and beef to-morrow. D'yer see?"
"Yes, of course," said the doctor, "and very proper."
"But what I holds is, sir, and my man too says is, that there ain't abit o' danger in any on 'em, though if there was nobody ought tocomplain."
"Well, there I don't agree with you, Dengate," said the doctorhaughtily, as Dexter came and stood by him, having grown deeplyinterested.
"Don't you, sir? Well, then, look here," said the butcher, rolling hisyellow handkerchief into a cannon ball and ramming it into his hat, asif it were a cannon that he now held beneath his left arm. "There's apath certainly from stile to stile, but it only leads to my farrestmedder, and though I never says nothing to nobody who thinks it's a nicewalk down there by the river to fish or pick flowers or what not, thoughthey often tramples my medder grass in a way as is sorrowful to see,they're my medders, and the writing's in my strong-box, and not ashilling on 'em. All freehold, seven-and-twenty acres, and everybody asgoes on is a trespasser, so what do you say to that?"
The butcher unloaded the imaginary cannon as he said this triumphantly,and dabbed his face with the ball.
"Say?" said the doctor, smiling; "why, that I'm a trespasser sometimes,for I like to go down there for a walk. It's the prettiest bit out ofthe town."
"Proud to hear you say so, sir," said the butcher eagerly. "It is,isn't it? and I'm proud to have you go for a walk there, sir. Honoured,I'm sure, and if the--er--the young gentleman likes to pick a spot outto keep ground baited for a bit o' fishing, why, he's hearty welcome,and my man shall save him as many maddicks for bait as ever he likes."
"I'll come," cried Dexter eagerly. "May I go?" he added.
"Yes, yes; we'll see," said the doctor; "and it's very kind of MrDengate to give you leave."
"Oh, that's nothing, sir. He's welcome as the flowers in May; but whatI wanted to say, sir, was that as they're my fields, and people whocomes is only trespassers, I've a right to put anything I like there. Idon't put danger for the public: they comes to the danger."
"Yes; that's true," said the doctor. "Of course, now you mention it,there's no right of way."
"Not a bit, sir, and I might turn out old Billy, if I liked."
"I say, who is old Billy?" said Dexter.
"Hush, my boy! Don't interpose when people are speaking."
"Oh, let him talk, sir," said the butcher, good-naturedly. "I like tohear a boy want to know. It's what my boy won't do. He's asleep halfhis time, and I feed him well too."
"Humph!" ejaculated the doct
or.
"Billy's my old bull, as I always keeps shut up close in my yard,because he is dangerous."
"And very properly," said the doctor.
"Quite right, sir, quite right; and I want to know then what right SirJames has to come ordering me about. He's no customer of mine. Took itall away and give it to Mossetts, because he said the mutton was woolly,when I give you my word, sir, that it was as good a bit o' mutton as Iever killed."
"Yes, yes, Dengate, but what has all this to do with me?" said thedoctor testily.
"Well, sir, begging your pardon, only this: your young lady and younggentleman was there, and I want to know the rights of it all. My mansays the beasts are quiet enough, only playful, and I say the same; butI may be making a mistake. I went in the medder this morning, with myboy Ezry, and he could drive 'em anywheres, and he's only ten. Did theytrouble your young folks, sir?"
"Well, Dexter: you can answer that," said the doctor.
"Trouble us?--no!" said Dexter, laughing. "Miss Grayson was a bitafraid of 'em, but I ran the big one, and he galloped off across thefields."
"There," said the butcher; "what did I say? Bit playful, that's all."
"And when we heard a noise, and found one of 'em standing over thatyoung Danby, he was only turning him over, that's all."
"Yes; he was running away, and fell down, and the beasts came to look athim," said Dengate, laughing.
"And Sir James was over on the stile calling for help. Why, as soon asI ran at the bullocks they all galloped off, all but the big one, and Igive him a crack on the horn, and soon made him go."
"Of course. Why, a child would make 'em run. That's all, sir, I onlywanted to know whether they really was dangerous, because if they hadbeen, as I said afore, bullock it is now, but beef it should be. Goodmorning, sir."
"What are you going to do!" said the doctor.
"Do, sir? I'm a-going to let Sir James do his worst. My beasts ain'tdangerous, and they ain't on a public road, so there they stay till Iwant 'em for the shop. Morning, young--er--gentleman. You're notafraid of a bullock?"
"No," said Dexter quietly, "I don't think I am."
"I'm sure you ain't, my lad, if you'll 'scuse me calling you so.Morning, sir, morning."
The butcher backed out, smiling triumphantly, but only to put his headin again--
"Beg pardon, sir, only to say that if he'd asked me polite like, I'd ha'done it directly; but he didn't, and I'll stand upon my medder like aman."
"Humph!" said the doctor, as soon as they were alone; "and so you werenot afraid of the bullocks, Dexter?"
"There wasn't anything to be afraid of," said the boy. "I'm ever somuch more afraid of you."
"Afraid?"
"Yes, when you look cross, sir, only then."
"Well, you must not make me look cross, Dexter; and now get on with yourcopying. When you've done that you may go in the garden if you'll keepout of mischief."
"And when may I go fishing?"
"When you like."
"Down the meadows!"
"Why not fish down the garden; there's a capital place."
"All right," said Dexter. "I'll go there. But I want a rod and line."
"There is an old rod in the hall, and you can buy a line. No, Helen isgoing out, and she will buy you one."
Dexter's eyes glistened at the idea of going fishing, and he set to workmost industriously at the copying, which in due time he handed over tothe Doctor, who expressed himself as highly satisfied: though if hereally was, he was easily pleased.
Helen had received her instructions, and she soon afterwards returnedwith the fishing-line, and a fair supply of extra hooks, and odds andends, which the doctor, as an old angler, had suggested.
"These--all for me!" cried the boy joyfully.
The doctor nodded.
"Recollect: no mischief, and don't tumble in."
"All right, sir," cried the boy, who was gloating over the new silkline, with its cork float glistening in blue and white paint broughtwell up with varnish.
"Do you know how to fish!"
"Yes, I know all about it, sir."
"How's that? You never went fishing at the workhouse."
"No, sir; but old Dimsted in the House used to tell us boys all aboutit, and how he used to catch jack and eels, and roach and perch, in theriver."
"Very well, then," said the doctor. "Now you can go."
Dexter went off in high glee, recalling divers instructions given by thevenerable old pauper who had been a fishing idler all his life, theriver always having more attractions for him than work. His sonfollowed in his steps, and he again had a son with the imitativefaculty, and spending every hour he could find at the river-side.
It was a well-known fact in Coleby that the Dimsteds always knew wherefish was to be found, and the baskets they made took the place of meatthat other fathers and sons of families would have earned.
Rod, line, and hooks are prime necessaries for fishing; but a fishrarely bites at a bare hook, so one of Dexter's first proceedings was toobtain some bait.
Mr Dengate had said that his man should save plenty of gentles for him;but Dexter resolved not to wait for them that day, but to try what hecould do with worms and paste. So his first proceeding was to appeal toMrs Millett for a slice or two of bread.
Mrs Millett was not in the kitchen, but Maria was, and on beingappealed to, she said sharply that she was not the cook.
Dexter looked puzzled, and he flushed a little as he wondered why it wasthat the maid looked so cross, and always answered him so snappishly.
Just then Mrs Millett, who was a plump elderly female with a pleasantcountenance and expression, appeared in the doorway, and to her Dexterappealed in turn.
Mrs Millett had been disposed to look at Dexter from the point of viewsuggested by Maria, who had been making unpleasant allusions to theboy's birth and parentage, and above all to "Master's strange goingson," ever since Dexter's coming. Hence, then, the old lady, who lookedupon herself as queen of the kitchen, had a sharp reproof on her tongue,and was about to ask the boy why he hadn't stopped in his own place, andrung for what he wanted. The frank happy expression on his facedisarmed her, and she smiled and cut the required bread.
"Well, I never!" said Maria.
"Ah, my dear," said Mrs Millett; "I was young once, and I didn't liketo be scolded. He isn't such a bad-looking boy after all, only he willkeep apples in his bedroom, and make it smell."
"What's looks!" said Maria tartly, as she gave a candlestick she wascleaning a fierce rub.
"A deal, my dear, sometimes," said the old housekeeper. "Specially ifthey're sweet ones, and that's what yours are not now."
Dexter was not yet armed with all he wanted, for he was off down thekitchen-garden in search of worms.
His first idea was to get a spade and dig for himself; but the sterncountenance of Dan'l Copestake rose up before him, and set him wonderingwhat would be the consequences if he were to be found turning over somebed.
On second thoughts he determined to find the gardener and ask forpermission, the dread of not succeeding in his mission making him forthe moment more thoughtful.
Dan'l did not need much looking for. He had caught sight of Dexter assoon as he entered the garden, and gave vent to a grunt.
"Now, what mischief's he up to now?" he grumbled; and he set to andwatched the boy while making believe to be busy cutting the dead leavesand flowers off certain plants.
He soon became aware of the fact that Dexter was searching for him, andthis altered the case, for he changed his tactics, and kept on movinghere and there, so as to avoid the boy.
"Here! Hi! Mr Copestake!" cried Dexter; but the old man had beensuddenly smitten with that worst form of deafness peculiar to those whowill not hear; and it was not until Dexter had pursued him round threeor four beds, during which he seemed to be blind as well as deaf, thatthe old man was able to see him.
"Eh!" he said. "Master want me?"
"No. I'm goi
ng fishing; and, please, I want some worms."
"Wums? Did you say wums!" said Dan'l, affecting deafness, and holdinghis hand to his ear.
"Yes."
"Ay, you're right; they are," grumbled Dan'l. "Deal o' trouble, wums.Gets inter the flower-pots, and makes wum castesses all over the lawn,and they all has to be swept up."
"Yes; but I want some for fishing."
"'Ficient? Quite right, not sufficient help to get 'em swep' away."
"Will you dig a few worms for me, please?" shouted Dexter in the oldman's ear.
"Dig wums? What for? Oh, I see, thou'rt going fishing. No; I can'tstop."
"May I dig some!" cried Dexter; but Dan'l affected not to hear him, andwent hurriedly away.
"He knew what I wanted all the time," said the boy to himself. "Hedon't like me no more than Maria does."
Just then he caught sight of Peter Cribb, who, whenever he was not busyin the stable, seemed to be chained to a birch broom.
"Will you dig a few worms for me, please?" said Dexter; "red ones."
"No; I'm sweeping," said the groom gruffly; and then, in the mostinconsistent way, he changed his tone, for he had a weakness for the rodand line himself. "Going fishing!"
"Yes, if I can get some worms."
"Where's old Copestake!"
"Gone into the yard over there," said Dexter.
"All right. I'll dig you some. Go behind the wall there, by thecucumber frames. Got a pot!"
Dexter shook his head.
"All right. I'll bring one."
Dexter went to the appointed place, and in a few minutes Peter appeared,free from the broom now, and bearing a five-pronged fork and a smallflower-pot; for the fact that the boy was a brother angler supersededthe feeling of animosity against one who had so suddenly been raisedfrom a lowly position and placed over his head.
Peter winked one eye as he scraped away some of the dry straw, and thenturned over a quantity of the moist, rotten soil, displaying plenty ofthe glistening red worms suitable for the capture of roach and perch.
"There you are," he said, after putting an ample supply in theflower-pot, whose hole he had stopped with a piece of clay; "there's asmany as you'll want; and now, you go and fish down in the deep hole,where the wall ends in the water, and I wish you luck."