CHAPTER VI
An Awkward Predicament
For some days Katrine had been convinced that there was another artistin the neighbourhood. She had caught a glimpse of an easel fixed in afield, she had found a tube of paint lying in the road, and had noticedupon a paling the scrapings of a palette. She had not yet, however, beenvouchsafed a sight of the stranger, against whom she had conceived aviolent prejudice. She had come to regard Heathwell as the privatesketching property of herself and Miss Aubrey, and regarded thenew-comer in the light of a poacher on their art preserves. He orshe--she did not even know the sex of the intruder--might very well havechosen some other village, in her opinion, instead of fixing upon thisparticular Paradise. All the same, she was inquisitive, and would haveliked very much to see the unknown artist's work. One afternoon MissAubrey took the Marsdens to a little subject in a meadow on the road tothe river. She watched them begin to draw in a picturesque railing andhawthorn stump, then went herself to another position in the field. Leftalone, the girls worked for some time in silence, Katrine withwhole-hearted absorption, and Gwethyn in a more dilettante fashion. Thelatter did not care to stick at things too long. She soon grew tired,and threw down her brush.
"Ugh! It makes me stiff to sit so still. I'm going to walk round thepasture. Do come, Katrine! Oh, how you swat! You might take two minutes'rest. We're just above the road here, and I believe somebody's sittingdown below. I can smell tobacco. I'm going to investigate."
Gwethyn came back in a few moments with her eyes dancing.
"It's an artist!" she whispered. "He's painting in the road exactlybelow us. I can see his picture through the hedge. Come and look!"
Such exciting information broke the spell of Katrine's work. She putdown her palette at once, and followed Gwethyn. It was impossible toresist taking a peep at the interesting stranger's sketch.
"You must promise not even to breathe. I should be most annoyed if hehappened to see us," she declared.
"All right! I'll be mum as a mouse, and walk as softly as a pussy-cat.I'll undertake it won't be my fault if he divines our existence."
Very gently the two girls crept along the edge of the pasture, tryingnot to rustle the grass, and heroically refraining from conversation.
"Here we are!" signalled Gwethyn at last, pausing at a thin place in thehedge, which might have been made on purpose for a peep-hole. Through aframe of sycamore leaves they could peer into the road exactly at thespot where the rival easel was pitched. The artist's back was towardsthem; they could see nothing but his tweed suit, his grey hair under abrown hat, and the skilful right hand which kept dabbing subtlecombinations of half-tones upon his canvas. He seemed utterlyunconscious of their presence, and worked away in sublime ignorance thattwo pairs of eyes were following every stroke of his brush. He was noamateur, that was plain. The girls were sufficient judges of painting torecognize that though the sketch was still at an elementary stage he hadmade a masterly beginning. Katrine watched quite fascinated, trying todecide what colours he was using, and in what proportion he had mixedthem. If she could only see his palette, she might perhaps discover thesecret of that particularly warm shadow he was in the act of placingunder the near tree. She craned her head a little forward through thehedge. Gwethyn, equally anxious to see everything possible, pressedclosely behind her. Whether it was the heat of the sun, or whether asycamore leaf tickled the end of her nose, I cannot tell. The cause isimmaterial, but the awful and tangible result was that Katrine--Katrine,who prided herself upon prunes and prism--burst without warning into aviolent and uncontrollable sneeze! Naturally the artist turned at theunwonted sound, to catch an astonishing vision of two dismayed facespeeping like dryads from the greenery behind him.
Katrine dashed off like a thief detected red-handed, but she had hardlygone a yard when Gwethyn seized her by the arm.
"Katrine! Stop! There's no need to run in that silly way. Can't you seeit's Mr. Freeman?"
"What's the matter, girls?" asked Miss Aubrey, who had walked up tocorrect their drawings.
Katrine felt caught on both sides, but there seemed nothing for it butto pass off the affair as well as she could.
"We've met an old friend of my father's," she explained. "I suppose wemay say 'How do you do?' to him over the hedge?"
If the girls were surprised to see Mr. Freeman, he was equallyastonished to find them at Heathwell.
"Didn't know you were at school here. It's a grand part of the world forsketching. Never saw so many paintable bits in my life. My diggings arein the village. Yes, come down and look at my picture, if you like."
Mr. Freeman had often been a guest at the Marsdens'. The girls knew himwell. He had criticized Katrine's earliest art efforts, and had painteda portrait of Gwethyn when she was about seven years old. He seemed tohave grasped the humour of the present situation, for he gazed up thebank with twinkling eyes. Katrine hastily introduced Miss Aubrey overthe top of the hedge, not a very dignified method of presenting afriend, but the only one available. Fortunately Miss Aubrey was not Mrs.Franklin! An invitation to make a nearer acquaintance with the picturewas irresistible. Katrine took her teacher by the arm, and pulled hergently in the direction of the gate. She offered no objection.
"I was most extremely glad for Mr. Freeman to meet Miss Aubrey," Katrineconfided to Gwethyn afterwards. "Two such good artists positively oughtto know each other. They've each got a picture in the Academy,and--isn't it funny?--in the very same room--numbers 402 and 437!"
"They seemed to find plenty to talk about," returned Gwethyn. "I hopeMr. Freeman really will look us up at school."
Not only did their artist friend take an early opportunity of calling onthem at Aireyholme, but he asked Miss Aubrey to bring them to see hissketches in the little studio he had rigged up in the village. It was atreat to be shown his charming interpretations of Heathwell and itsinhabitants. He had already requisitioned some of the Gartley childrenas models, and was in ecstasies over their picturesque appearance. Hisstudy of the High Street at sunset was a poem on canvas.
"This beats every other place I've ever stayed at for painting," heannounced. "Now I've found this studio, I shall stop here for thesummer. There's any amount to be done."
"You'll certainly find plenty of subjects round about," agreed MissAubrey.
"I wonder if the painting is altogether the whole of the attraction,"mused Gwethyn, who in some respects was wise beyond her years.
* * * * *
Miss Aubrey was an immense favourite at Aireyholme, but among all thegirls she had no stancher and more whole-hearted admirer than GithaHamilton. Githa was not demonstrative--she never said much; but wheneverpossible she haunted her idol like a drab little shadow, watching herwith adoring eyes, and hanging upon her words. Miss Aubrey had a veryshrewd suspicion that Githa was lonely at home and left out at school.Realizing her peculiar disposition, she made no great fuss over her, butevery now and then managed unobtrusively to include the girl in somespecial expedition or particular treat. At an early date in June shearranged to take a few members of the painting class on a Saturdayexcursion to Chiplow, where a fine old abbey would provide a capitalsubject for an afternoon's sketching.
Chiplow was on a different line of railway from Carford, therefore theHeathwell local trains were of little use in getting there. The quickestroute was to bicycle to Chorlton Lacy, a station on the South Midlandline, seven miles away, whence they could book excursion tickets toChiplow. Only girls possessing bicycles were available for the jaunt,and as for one reason or another several of these were obliged to beexcluded, Miss Aubrey invited Githa to accompany them and make up thedozen required for the issue of the special cheap holiday bookings. Thepoor little Toadstool turned up radiant with delight, and looking reallyalmost pretty in her khaki-coloured cycle costume, scarlet tie, andpoppy-trimmed Panama. A Union Jack fluttered from her newly-polishedmachine, and in the basket which hung from the handle-bars she had astore of home-made toffee as well as her sketc
h-book.
In first-rate spirits the party set off along the road, riding in stylethrough the village, with much ringing of bells to scare away children.They free-wheeled for nearly a mile downhill, and then had a splendidlevel stretch of road beside the river bank.
"We're getting along capitally," said Miss Aubrey. "At this rate weshall be at the station half an hour too soon."
"Unless we meet with some excitement!" ventured Gwethyn hopefully.
If Gwethyn craved for excitement, she was soon to find it. They had notgone half a mile farther before their way was barred by an enormousbull, which, to judge by a gap in the hedge, must have broken out of aneighbouring field. There it stood, in a dip of the road, right in theirpath, tossing its great head, pawing the ground, and bellowing lustily.The cyclists jumped off their machines, decidedly scared by theapparition that faced them.
"Oh, but doesn't it look a splendid subject?" gasped Katrine, whoseartistic instincts were uppermost even at such a crisis. "If we couldonly draw it!"
"Don't be idiotic!" cried Nan Bethell. "It would be like taking asnapshot of a lion when it's rushing at you with open jaws!"
"I'm sure Rosa Bonheur or Lucy Kemp-Welch would have sketched it."
"Then they'd have been impaled, one on each horn, and serve them rightfor tempting Providence. Look at the dust the creature's raising in theroad!"
All the party were in consternation. Miss Aubrey, who felt theresponsibility of her charge, and moreover had a natural fear of bulls,for once almost lost her presence of mind.
"What are we to do? It would be madness to try and ride past it. Isuppose we shall have to turn back home," she fluttered.
"Can't we call for help? Halloo!" shouted some of the girls.
"There's nobody about."
"I see a hat in that field!"
"It's only a scarecrow!"
Then Githa, who had been standing silently by her bicycle, suddenlyassumed direction of the situation.
"Stop shouting! You'll excite the bull!" she commanded. "Now let usstack our machines in the ditch, and climb over this fence into thefield. Come along, quick! This way!"
It seemed such excellent advice that even Miss Aubrey obeyed quitemeekly. Leaving their bicycles below, they all scrambled hastily up thebank and over some hurdles into a field.
"We're safe, but we shall lose our train!" lamented Gladwin Riley.
"Not a bit of it! We'll turn up in time at the station, you'll see!"replied Githa. "Just leave it to me!"
She broke a stick from the hedge, picked up several large stones, andthen ran along the meadow for some distance and climbed another fence.All at once the girls realized her intention. She was descending intothe road in the rear of the bull.
"Stop her! Stop her!" shrieked Miss Aubrey.
By that time, however, Githa was half-way down the bank. Before the bullhad time to realize her presence and turn round, she began a vigorousonslaught with stones upon his hind quarters, shouting at the pitch ofher lungs. Her sudden attack had exactly the effect she hoped. Thebull, enraged by the noise and the stones, rushed blindly forward alongthe road, passing the bicycles without notice, and stampeding in thedirection of Heathwell.
"Someone will stop him before he gets into the village," murmured MissAubrey at the top of the bank.
The brave little Toadstool received an ovation as the rest of the partyclimbed down from the post of vantage. She took her honoursungraciously.
"What's the use of making a fuss? Anyone with two grains of sense wouldhave thought of it. For goodness' sake, let me get on my machine! Wehaven't overmuch time, and we don't want to miss our train standingpalavering."
"How just exactly like Githa Hamilton!" commented Hilda Smart, as thegirls resumed their interrupted ride.
After all, they arrived at the station with five minutes to spare, justlong enough to book their excursion tickets and to leave their bicyclesin the left-luggage office. They were fortunate enough to find an emptycarriage, and crammed themselves in somehow; it was rather a tight fitfor a dozen, but it felt so much jollier to be all together. Chiplow wasan hour's journey away; a few of the party had been there before, but tomost it was a new experience. The abbey was one of the show places ofthe county, and the old town had a historic reputation. There was plentyto be seen in the streets alone: the houses were of the sixteenthcentury, and very picturesque--many of them with carved wooden pillars,and with dates and coats-of-arms over the doorways. Miss Aubrey tookher charges into the church, a dim, ancient edifice with a leper window,a sounding-board over the pulpit, and, almost hidden away in thetransept, a "ducking-stool for scolds". The girls looked at the curiousold instrument of punishment with great curiosity; and Githa, who hadbrought her camera, took a time exposure of it.
"Poor old souls!" said Katrine. "It was too bad to souse them in thepond just because they waxed too eloquent. I've no doubt the husbandsdeserved it. If everybody who talks too much nowadays were treated tothe cold-water cure, we should be a taciturn set."
"It might be a wholesome warning in some cases," laughed Miss Aubrey."It's really very trying when people babble on all about nothing, andinsist upon one's listening to them."
After lunch at a cafe in the town, the party adjourned to the abbey, amost romantic ruin, standing among woods by the side of a river. Themonks of old must have been true artists to choose such unrivalled siteson which to rear their glorious architecture. It was an exquisite jewelin a perfect setting, and Miss Aubrey was soon in ecstasies overdelicate pieces of tracery and perpendicular windows. She set her classto work on an arched gateway overhung by a graceful silver-birch tree.It was not a particularly easy subject, and most of them did notaccomplish more than the drawing, though Katrine and Nan managed to puton a little colour during the last half-hour. Everyone was very loath toleave when Miss Aubrey at last declared it was time to close thesketch-books. Their train was due at six, and they must have tea beforestarting, so it was impossible to linger any longer.
Katrine had bought a guide-book at the abbey, and studied it over thetea-table at the cafe. She was dismayed to find how many objects ofinterest in the town they had missed.
"I should like to see the old house where Mary Queen of Scots stayed,"she exclaimed. "It's only just down the street here. Miss Aubrey,Gwethyn and I have finished tea; may we go and look at it? We'll be everso quick."
"You can if you like, but don't miss the train. If you turn up CliffStreet, exactly opposite the hospital, it will bring you straight to thestation, and save your walking back here. Six o'clock, remember!"
"Oh, thank you! There's heaps of time. Come, Gwethyn!"
The Marsdens marched off with their guide-book, and easily found the oldhouse in question, which was now used as an Alms Hospital forsuperannuated and disabled soldiers. They so dutifully curtailed theirinspection of it, that Katrine declared they might safely go and look atthe ruins of the city gate, which, according to her guide, must be quiteclose by. Whether the book was unreliable, or whether Katrine, in herhaste, missed the right turning, is uncertain, but after wanderingvainly round several streets the girls found themselves down by the bankof the river.
"You said we had plenty of time, but you didn't look at your watch,"panted Gwethyn. "If that clock over there is right, we shall never catchour train. Oh, you are a genius to-day! A prince of path-finders!"
Katrine came to a sudden halt. Gwethyn's remarks were unpalatable, butstrictly true. There were exactly ten minutes to spare. To go back tothe station would require at least twenty.
"It's the only train available by our excursion tickets," wailedGwethyn. "I believe there's a later one about nine or ten o'clock, butthey'll make us pay the difference between cheap bookings and ordinaryfare."
"I can see the glass roof of the station across the river, and there's abridge in front of us. It's probably a short cut, and will save half thedistance," announced Katrine hopefully. "Come along! Perhaps we can justdo it!"
The girls scurried forward in frantic haste.
What convenient thingsbridges were! Why, of course, there was the railway quite close on theother side. They tore across the creaking planks in triumph, feelingthat every step brought them nearer to the station. But alas! for thevanity of human wishes! The farther side of the bridge was closed by aturnstile, and a fiend in human form was basely and mercenarilydemanding the one thing in the world which at present they could notmuster--a penny toll! It seemed absurd to be in the depths ofdestitution, but it was the fact. They had given the money for the day'sexcursion to Miss Aubrey, who acted as paymaster for the whole party,and the few pence they had kept they had spent on the guide-book andsome chocolates. To be at one's last penny is a proverbial expression,but Katrine and Gwethyn had never before realized the dire extremity ofbeing absolutely without a single specimen of that useful coin of therealm. They rummaged in their pockets, hoping against hope that somestray copper might have slipped into an obscure corner, and have beenoverlooked. Gwethyn even felt the bottom of her coat, in case athreepenny-bit could have strayed between the material and the lining.In the meantime the keeper of the bridge stood with outstretched hand,awaiting his dues, casting an impatient eye back into his toll-house,where his tea was rapidly cooling upon the table.
"We find we haven't any money with us," faltered Katrine at last. "Wouldyou please let us through without, and we'd send you stamps to-morrow?"
"Couldn't do it," responded the man surlily. "This bridge is a cashconcern, and I never give credit."
"But we want to catch a train," pleaded Gwethyn, "and there isn't timeto go back through the town."
"Our tickets are only available by this train, and our friends arewaiting for us at the station," added Katrine.
"I've heard tales like this before! Don't you try to come over me! Youeither pays your pennies, or you won't go through this gate!"
"If we left something as a pledge?" cried Katrine in despair. "Here's mypaint-box, or my coat, or--yes, even my watch!"
"You must let us pass!" declared Gwethyn tragically.
"Must, indeed! I'm put here in charge of the bridge, and a pretty thingit would be if I was to let everyone through scot-free! I've my orders,and I'll do my duty," said the toll-keeper officiously, waving away thearticles which Katrine was vainly trying to press upon him.
The poor girls were waxing hysterical. The precious moments werehurrying by, and already a suggestive whistle in the distance gaveominous warning of the approaching train. To be left behind in Chiplowwas a prospect too appalling even to contemplate. They had seriousthoughts of either attempting to push past the official, or to make adash and climb the railings, both of which proceedings would be equallyundignified and illegal.
At this desperate and critical moment a little figure suddenly rushed upfrom behind--a gasping, panting figure, with hair flying in wild elflocks, and pale cheeks scarlet for once.
"Open the gate quick!" it commanded. "Threepence? Here you are! Come on!We'll just do it!"
There was no time even to greet their deliverer. The three girls simplytore along the road that led to the station, with their eyes fixed onthe signal, which was already down. The Toadstool was swift of foot, andhad indomitable pluck, or, winded already, she could never have managedthat last wild spurt.
"Caught it by the skin of our teeth!" exclaimed Katrine a minute and ahalf later, as, nearly exhausted, the girls were hustled into acompartment by the distracted Miss Aubrey, just the moment before thetrain started. "Oh, dear! I've never had such a scramble in all my life!I'm half dead!"
"Githa Hamilton, you're an absolute trump!" whispered Gwethyn, when sherecovered sufficient breath for speech. "That horrid man wouldn't let usthrough. We should have had to stop in Chiplow. It was good of you tocome after us!"
"No, it wasn't!" snapped the Toadstool rather gaspily. "I did it toplease Miss Aubrey; I didn't care twopence about you two. She wasgetting anxious, so I said I'd follow you and round you up somehow. Aprecious job I had, asking people if they'd seen two girls in Panamahats! Whatever induced you to go down by the river? You pair of sillies!It would have just served you jolly well right if you'd been left inChiplow after all!"