THE TOWER OF MYSTERY
It was very rough on Dora having her foot bad, but we took it in turnsto stay in with her, and she was very decent about it. Daisy was mostwith her. I do not dislike Daisy, but I wish she had been taught how toplay. Because Dora is rather like that naturally, and sometimes I havethought that Daisy makes her worse.
I talked to Albert's uncle about it one day when the others had gone tochurch, and I did not go because of earache, and he said it came fromreading the wrong sort of books partly--she has read _MinisteringChildren_, and _Anna Ross, or The Orphan of Waterloo_, and _Ready Workfor Willing Hands_, and _Elsie, or Like a Little Candle_, and even ahorrid little blue book about the something or other of Little Sins.After this conversation Oswald took care she had plenty of the rightsort of books to read, and he was surprised and pleased when she got upearly one morning to finish _Monte Cristo_. Oswald felt that he wasreally being useful to a suffering fellow-creature when he gave Daisybooks that were not all about being good.
A few days after Dora was laid up Alice called a council of theWouldbegoods, and Oswald and Dicky attended with darkly clouded brows.Alice had the minute-book, which was an exercise-book that had not muchwritten in it. She had begun at the other end. I hate doing that myself,because there is so little room at the top compared with right way up.
Dora and a sofa had been carried out on to the lawn, and we were on thegrass. It was very hot and dry. We had sherbet. Alice read:
"'Society of the Wouldbegoods.
"'We have not done much. Dicky mended a window, and we got the milk-panout of the moat that dropped through where he mended it. Dora, Oswald,Dicky and me got upset in the moat. This was not goodness. Dora's footwas hurt. We hope to do better next time.'"
Then came Noel's poem:
"'We are the Wouldbegoods Society, We are not good yet, but we mean to try. And if we try, and if we don't succeed, It must mean we are very bad indeed.'"
This sounded so much righter than Noel's poetry generally does, thatOswald said so, and Noel explained that Denny had helped him.
"He seems to know the right length for lines of poetry. I suppose itcomes of learning so much at school," Noel said.
Then Oswald proposed that anybody should be allowed to write in the bookif they found out anything good that any one else had done, but notthings that were public acts; and nobody was to write about themselves,or anything other people told them, only what they found out.
After a brief jaw the others agreed, and Oswald felt, not for the firsttime in his young life, that he would have made a good diplomatic heroto carry despatches and outwit the other side. For now he had put it outof the minute-book's power to be the kind of thing readers of_Ministering Children_ would have wished.
"And if any one tells other people any good thing he's done he is to goto Coventry for the rest of the day." And Denny remarked, "We shall dogood by stealth and blush to find it shame."
After that nothing was written in the book for some time. I lookedabout, and so did the others, but I never caught any one in the act ofdoing anything extra; though several of the others have told me since ofthings they did at this time, and really wondered nobody had noticed.
I think I said before, that when you tell a story you cannot telleverything. It would be silly to do it. Because ordinary kinds of playare dull to read about; and the only other thing is meals, and to dwellon what you eat is greedy and not like a hero at all. A hero is alwayscontented with a venison pasty and a horn of sack. All the same, themeals _were_ very interesting; with things you do not get at home--Lentpies with custard and currants in them, sausage rolls, and flede cakes,and raisin cakes and apple turnovers, and honeycomb and syllabubs,besides as much new milk as you cared about, and cream now and then, andcheese always on the table for tea. Father told Mrs. Pettigrew to getwhat meals she liked, and she got these strange but attractive foods.
In a story about Wouldbegoods it is not proper to tell of times whenonly some of us were naughty, so I will pass lightly over the time whenNoel got up the kitchen chimney and brought three bricks and an oldstarling's nest and about a ton of soot down with him when he fell. Theynever use the big chimney in the summer, but cook in the wash-house. Nordo I wish to dwell on what H. O. did when he went into the dairy. I donot know what his motive was. But Mrs. Pettigrew said _she_ knew; andshe locked him in, and said if it was cream he wanted he should haveenough, and she wouldn't let him out till tea-time. The cat had also gotinto the dairy for some reason of her own, and when H. O. was tired ofwhatever he went in for he poured all the milk into the churn and triedto teach the cat to swim in it. He must have been desperate. The cat didnot even try to learn, and H. O. had the scars on his hands for weeks. Ido not wish to tell tales of H. O., for he is very young, and whateverhe does he always catches it for; but I will just allude to our beingtold not to eat the greengages in the garden. And we did not. Andwhatever H. O. did was Noel's fault--for Noel told H. O. that greengageswould grow again all right if you did not bite as far as the stone, justas wounds are not mortal except when you are pierced through the heart.So the two of them bit bites out of every greengage they could reach.And of course the pieces did not grow again.
Oswald did not do things like these, but then he is older than hisbrothers. The only thing he did just about then was making a booby-trapfor Mrs. Pettigrew when she had locked H. O. up in the dairy, andunfortunately it was the day she was going out in her best things, andpart of the trap was a can of water. Oswald was not willingly vicious;it was but a light and thoughtless act which he had every reason to besorry for afterwards. And he is sorry even without those reasons,because he knows it is ungentlemanly to play tricks on women.
I remember mother telling Dora and me when we were little that you oughtto be very kind and polite to servants, because they have to work veryhard, and do not have so many good times as we do. I used to think aboutmother more at the Moat House than I did at Blackheath, especially inthe garden. She was very fond of flowers, and she used to tell us aboutthe big garden where she used to live; and, I remember, Dora and Ihelped her to plant seeds. But it is no use wishing. She would haveliked that garden, though.
The girls and the white mice did not do anything boldly wicked--thoughof course they used to borrow Mrs. Pettigrew's needles, which made hervery nasty. Needles that are borrowed might just as well be stolen. ButI say no more.
I have only told you these things to show the kind of events whichoccurred on the days I don't tell you about. On the whole, we had anexcellent time.
It was on the day we had the pillow-fight that we went for the longwalk. Not the Pilgrimage--that is another story. We did not mean to havea pillow-fight. It is not usual to have them after breakfast, but Oswaldhad come up to get his knife out of the pocket of his Etons, to cut somewire we were making rabbit snares of. It is a very good knife, with afile in it, as well as a corkscrew and other things--and he did not comedown at once, because he was detained by having to make an apple-pie bedfor Dicky. Dicky came up after him to see what we was up to, and when hedid see he buzzed a pillow at Oswald, and the fight began. The others,hearing the noise of battle from afar, hastened to the field of action,all except Dora, who couldn't, because of being laid up with her foot,and Daisy, because she is a little afraid of us still, when we are alltogether. She thinks we are rough. This comes of having only onebrother.
Well, the fight was a very fine one. Alice backed me up, and Noel and H.O. backed Dicky, and Denny heaved a pillow or two; but he cannot shystraight, so I don't know which side he was on.
And just as the battle raged most fiercely, Mrs. Pettigrew came in andsnatched the pillows away, and shook those of the warriors who weresmall enough for it. _She_ was rough if you like. She also usedlanguage I should have thought she would be above. She said, "Drat you!"and "Drabbit you!" The last is a thing I have never heard said before.She said:
"There's no peace of your life with you children. Drat your antics! Andthat poor, dear, patient gentlema
n right underneath, with his headacheand his handwriting: and you rampaging about over his head like youngbull-calves. I wonder you haven't more sense, a great girl like you."
She said this to Alice, and Alice answered gently, as we are told to do:
"I really am awfully sorry; we forgot about the headache. Don't becross, Mrs. Pettigrew; we didn't mean to; we didn't think."
"You never do," she said, and her voice, though grumpy, was no longerviolent. "Why on earth you can't take yourselves off for the day I don'tknow."
We all said, "But may we?"
She said, "Of course you may. Now put on your boots and go for a goodlong walk. And I'll tell you what--I'll put you up a snack, and you canhave an egg to your tea to make up for missing your dinner. Now don't goclattering about the stairs and passages, there's good children. See ifyou can't be quiet this once, and give the good gentleman a chance withhis copying."
She went off. Her bark is worse than her bite. She does not understandanything about writing books, though. She thinks Albert's uncle copiesthings out of printed books, when he is really writing new ones. Iwonder how she thinks printed books get made first of all. Many servantsare like this.
She gave us the "snack" in a basket, and sixpence to buy milk with. Shesaid any of the farms would let us have it, only most likely it would beskim. We thanked her politely, and she hurried us out of the front dooras if we'd been chickens on a pansy bed.
(I did not know till after I had left the farm gate open, and the henshad got into the garden, that these feathered bipeds display a greatpartiality for the young buds of plants of the genus _viola_, to whichthey are extremely destructive. I was told that by the gardener. Ilooked it up in the gardening book afterwards to be sure he was right.You do learn a lot of things in the country.)
We went through the garden as far as the church, and then we rested abit in the porch, and just looked into the basket to see what the"snack" was. It proved sausage rolls, and queen cakes, and a Lent pie ina round tin dish, and some hard-boiled eggs, and some apples. We all atethe apples at once, so as not to have to carry them about with us. Thechurch-yard smells awfully good. It is the wild thyme that grows on thegraves. This is another thing we did not know before we came into thecountry.
Then the door of the church tower was ajar, and we all went up; it hadalways been locked before when we had tried it.
We saw the ringer's loft where the ends of the bell-ropes hang down withlong, furry handles to them like great caterpillars, some red, and someblue and white, but we did not pull them. And then we went up to wherethe bells are, very big and dusty among large dirty beams; and fourwindows with no glass, only shutters like Venetian blinds, but theywon't pull up. There were heaps of straws and sticks on the windowledges. We think they were owls' nests, but we did not see any owls.
Then the tower stairs got very narrow and dark, and we went on up, andwe came to a door and opened it suddenly, and it was like being hit inthe face, the light was so sudden. And there we were on the top of thetower, which is flat, and people have cut their names on it, and aturret at one corner, and a low wall all round, up and down, like castlebattlements. And we looked down and saw the roof of the church, and theleads, and the church-yard, and our garden, and the Moat House, and thefarm, and Mrs. Simpkins's cottage, looking very small, and other farmslooking like toy things out of boxes, and we saw cornfields and meadowsand pastures. A pasture is not the same thing as a meadow, whatever youmay think. And we saw the tops of trees and hedges, looking like the mapof the United States, and villages, and a tower that did not look veryfar away standing by itself on the top of a hill.
Alice pointed to it, and said:
"What's that?"
"It's not a church," said Noel, "because there's no church-yard. Perhapsit's a tower of mystery that covers the entrance to a subterranean vaultwith treasure in it."
Dicky said, "Subterranean fiddlestick!" and "A water-works, morelikely."
Alice thought perhaps it was a ruined castle, and the rest of itscrumbling walls were concealed by ivy, the growth of years.
Oswald could not make his mind up what it was, so he said: "Let's go andsee! We may as well go there as anywhere."
So we got down out of the church tower and dusted ourselves, and setout.
The Tower of Mystery showed quite plainly from the road, now that weknew where to look for it, because it was on the top of a hill. We beganto walk. But the tower did not seem to get any nearer. And it was veryhot.
So we sat down in a meadow where there was a stream in the ditch and atethe "snack." We drank the pure water from the brook out of our hands,because there was no farm to get milk at just there, and it was too muchfag to look for one--and, besides, we thought we might as well save thesixpence.
Then we started again, and still the tower looked as far off as ever.Denny began to drag his feet, though he had brought a walking-stickwhich none of the rest of us had, and said:
"I wish a cart would come along. We might get a lift."
He knew all about getting lifts, of course, from having been in thecountry before. He is not quite the white mouse we took him for atfirst. Of course when you live in Lewisham or Blackheath you learn otherthings. If you asked for a lift in Lewisham, High Street, your onlyreply would be jeers. We sat down on a heap of stones, and decided thatwe would ask for a lift from the next cart, whichever way it was going.It was while we were waiting that Oswald found out about plantain seedsbeing good to eat.
When the sound of wheels came we remarked with joy that the cart wasgoing towards the Tower of Mystery. It was a cart a man was going tofetch a pig home in. Denny said:
"I say, you might give us a lift. Will you?"
The man who was going for the pig said:
"What, all that little lot?" but he winked at Alice, and we saw that hemeant to aid us on our way. So we climbed up, and he whipped up thehorse and asked us where we were going. He was a kindly old man, with aface like a walnut shell, and white hair and beard like ajack-in-the-box.
"We want to get to the tower," Alice said. "Is it a ruin, or not?"
"It ain't no ruin," the man said; "no fear of that! The man wot built ithe left so much a year to be spent on repairing of it! Money that mighthave put bread in honest folks' mouths."
We asked was it a church then, or not.
"Church?" he said. "Not it. It's more of a tombstone, from all I canmake out. They do say there was a curse on him that built it, and hewasn't to rest in earth or sea. So he's buried half-way up the tower--ifyou can call it buried."
"Can you go up it?" Oswald asked.
"Lord love you! yes; a fine view from the top, they say. I've never beenup myself, though I've lived in sight of it, boy and man, thesesixty-three years come harvest."
Alice asked whether you had to go past the dead and buried person to getto the top of the tower, and could you see the coffin.
"No, no," the man said; "that's all hid away behind a slab of stone,that is, with reading on it. You've no call to be afraid, missy. It'sdaylight all the way up. But I wouldn't go there after dark, so Iwouldn't. It's always open, day and night, and they say tramps sleepthere now and again. Any one who likes can sleep there, but it wouldn'tbe me."
We thought that it would not be us either, but we wanted to go more thanever, especially when the man said:
"My own great-uncle of the mother's side, he was one of the masons thatset up the stone slab. Before then it was thick glass, and you could seethe dead man lying inside, as he'd left it in his will. He was lyingthere in a glass coffin with his best clothes--blue satin and silver, myuncle said, such as was all the go in his day, with his wig on, and hissword beside him, what he used to wear. My uncle said his hair had grownout from under his wig, and his beard was down to the toes of him. Myuncle he always upheld that that dead man was no deader than you and me,but was in a sort of fit, a transit, I think they call it, and lookedfor him to waken into life again some day. But the doctor said not. Itwas only something done to him li
ke Pharaoh in the Bible afore he wasburied."
Alice whispered to Oswald that we should be late for tea, and wouldn'tit be better to go back now directly. But he said:
"If you're afraid, say so; and you needn't come in anyway--but I'm goingon."
The man who was going for the pig put us down at a gate quite near thetower--at least it looked so until we began to walk again. We thankedhim, and he said:
"Quite welcome," and drove off.
We were rather quiet going through the wood. What we had heard made usvery anxious to see the tower--all except Alice, who would keep talkingabout tea, though not a greedy girl by nature. None of the othersencouraged her, but Oswald thought himself that we had better be homebefore dark.
As we went up the path through the wood we saw a poor wayfarer withdusty bare feet sitting on the bank.
He stopped us and said he was a sailor, and asked for a trifle to helphim to get back to his ship.
I did not like the look of him much myself, but Alice said, "Oh, thepoor man, do let's help him, Oswald." So we held a hurried council, anddecided to give him the milk sixpence. Oswald had it in his purse, andhe had to empty the purse into his hand to find the sixpence, for thatwas not all the money he had, by any means. Noel said afterwards that hesaw the wayfarer's eyes fastened greedily upon the shining pieces asOswald returned them to his purse. Oswald has to own that he purposelylet the man see that he had more money, so that the man might not feelshy about accepting so large a sum as sixpence.
The man blessed our kind hearts and we went on.
The sun was shining very brightly, and the Tower of Mystery did not lookat all like a tomb when we got to it. The bottom story was on arches,all open, and ferns and things grew underneath. There was a round stonestair going up in the middle. Alice began to gather ferns while we wentup, but when we had called out to her that it was as the pig-man hadsaid, and daylight all the way up, she said:
"All right. I'm not afraid. I'm only afraid of being late home," andcame up after us. And perhaps, though not downright manly truthfulness,this was as much as you could expect from a girl.
There were holes in the little tower of the staircase to let light in.At the top of it was a thick door with iron bolts. We shot these back,and it was not fear but caution that made Oswald push open the door sovery slowly and carefully.
Because, of course, a stray dog or cat might have got shut up there byaccident, and it would have startled Alice very much if it had jumpedout on us.
When the door was opened we saw that there was no such thing. It was aroom with eight sides. Denny says it is the shape called octagenarian;because a man named Octagius invented it. There were eight large archedwindows with no glass, only stone-work, like in churches. The room wasfull of sunshine, and you could see the blue sky through the windows,but nothing else, because they were so high up. It was so bright webegan to think the pig-man had been kidding us. Under one of the windowswas a door. We went through, and there was a little passage and then aturret-twisting stair, like in the church, but quite light with windows.When we had gone some way up this, we came to a sort of landing, andthere was a block of stone let into the wall--polished--Denny said itwas Aberdeen graphite, with gold letters cut in it. It said:
"Here lies the body of Mr. Richard Ravenal. Born 1720. Died 1779."
and a verse of poetry:
"Here lie I, between earth and sky, Think upon me, dear passers-by, And you who do my tombstone see Be kind to say a prayer for me."
"How horrid!" Alice said. "Do let's get home."
"We may as well go to the top," Dicky said, "just to say we've been."
And Alice is no funk--so she agreed; though I could see she did not likeit.
Up at the top it was like the top of the church tower, only octagenarianin shape, instead of square.
Alice got all right there; because you cannot think much about ghostsand nonsense when the sun is shining bang down on you at four o'clock inthe afternoon, and you can see red farm-roofs between the trees, and thesafe white roads, with people in carts like black ants crawling.
It was very jolly, but we felt we ought to be getting back, because teais at five, and we could not hope to find lifts both ways.
So we started to go down. Dicky went first, then Oswald, then Alice--andH. O. had just stumbled over the top step and saved himself by Alice'sback, which nearly upset Oswald and Dicky, when the hearts of all stoodstill, and then went on by leaps and bounds, like the good work inmissionary magazines.
For, down below us, in the tower where the man whose beard grew down tohis toes after he was dead was buried, there was a noise--a loud noise.And it was like a door being banged and bolts fastened. We tumbled overeach other to get back into the open sunshine on the top of the tower,and Alice's hand got jammed between the edge of the doorway and H. O.'sboot; it was bruised black and blue, and another part bled, but she didnot notice it till long after.
We looked at each other, and Oswald said in a firm voice (at least, Ihope it was):
"What was that?"
"He _has_ waked up," Alice said. "Oh, I know he has. Of course there isa door for him to get out by when he wakes. He'll come up here. I knowhe will."
Dicky said, and his voice was not at all firm (I noticed that at thetime), "It doesn't matter, if he's _alive_."
"Unless he's come to life a raving lunatic," Noel said, and we all stoodwith our eyes on the doorway of the turret--and held our breath to hear.
But there was no more noise.
Then Oswald said--and nobody ever put it in the Golden Deed book, thoughthey own that it was brave and noble of him--he said:
"Perhaps it was only the wind blowing one of the doors to. I'll go downand see, if you will, Dick."
Dicky only said:
"The wind doesn't shoot bolts."
"A bolt from the blue," said Denny to himself, looking up at the sky.His father is a sub-editor. He had gone very red, and he was holding onto Alice's hand. Suddenly he stood up quite straight and said:
"I'm not afraid. I'll go and see."
_This_ was afterwards put in the Golden Deed book. It ended in Oswaldand Dicky and Denny going. Denny went first because he said he wouldrather--and Oswald understood this and let him. If Oswald had pushedfirst it would have been like Sir Launcelot refusing to let a youngknight win his spurs. Oswald took good care to go second himself,though. The others never understood this. You don't expect it fromgirls; but I did think father would have understood without Oswaldtelling him, which of course he never could.
We all went slowly.
At the bottom of the turret stairs we stopped short. Because the doorthere was bolted fast and would not yield to shoves, however desperateand united.
Only now somehow we felt that Mr. Richard Ravenal was all right andquiet, but that some one had done it for a lark, or perhaps not knownabout any one being up there. So we rushed up, and Oswald told theothers in a few hasty but well-chosen words, and we all leaned overbetween the battlements, and shouted, "Hi! you there!"
Then from under the arches of the quite-down-stairs part of the tower afigure came forth--and it was the sailor who had had our milk sixpence.He looked up and he spoke to us. He did not speak loud, but he spokeloud enough for us to hear every word quite plainly. He said:
"Drop that."
Oswald said, "Drop what?"
He said, "That row."
Oswald said, "Why?"
He said, "Because if you don't I'll come up and make you, and prettyquick too, so I tell you."
Dicky said, "Did you bolt the door?"
The man said, "I did so, my young cock."
Alice said--and Oswald wished to goodness she had held her tongue,because he saw right enough the man was not friendly--"Oh, do come andlet us out--do, please."
While she was saying it Oswald suddenly saw that he did not want the manto come up. So he scurried down the stairs because he thought he hadseen something on the door on the top side, and
sure enough there weretwo bolts, and he shot them into their sockets. This bold act was notput in the Golden Deed book, because when Alice wanted to, the otherssaid it was not _good_ of Oswald to think of this, but only _clever_. Ithink sometimes, in moments of danger and disaster, it is as good to beclever as it is to be good. But Oswald would never demean himself toargue about this.
When he got back the man was still standing staring up. Alice said:
"Oh, Oswald, he says he won't let us out unless we give him all ourmoney. And we might be here for days and days and all night as well. Noone knows where we are to come and look for us. Oh, do let's give it him_all_."
She thought the lion of the English nation, which does not know when itis beaten, would be ramping in her brother's breast. But Oswald keptcalm. He said:
"All right," and he made the others turn out their pockets. Denny had abad shilling, with a head on both sides, and three halfpence. H. O. hada halfpenny. Noel had a French penny, which is only good for chocolatemachines at railway stations. Dicky had tenpence halfpenny, and Oswaldhad a two-shilling piece of his own that he was saving up to buy a gunwith. Oswald tied the whole lot up in his handkerchief, and looking overthe battlements, he said:
"You are an ungrateful beast. We gave you sixpence freely of our ownwill."
The man did look a little bit ashamed, but he mumbled something abouthaving his living to get.
Then Oswald said:
"Here you are. Catch!" and he flung down the handkerchief with the moneyin it.
The man muffed the catch--butter-fingered idiot!--but he picked up thehandkerchief and undid it, and when he saw what was in it he sworedreadfully. The cad!
"Look here," he called out, "this won't do, young shaver. I want thosethere shiners I see in your pus! Chuck 'em along!"
Then Oswald laughed. He said:
"I shall know you again anywhere, and you'll be put in prison for this.Here are the _shiners_." And he was so angry he chucked down purse andall. The shiners were not real ones, but only card-counters that lookedlike sovereigns on one side. Oswald used to carry them in his purse soas to look affluent. He does not do this now.
When the man had seen what was in the purse he disappeared under thetower, and Oswald was glad of what he had done about the bolts--and hehoped they were as strong as the ones on the other side of the door.
They were.
We heard the man kicking and pounding at the door, and I am not ashamedto say that we were all holding on to each other very tight. I am proud,however, to relate that nobody screamed or cried.
After what appeared to be long years, the banging stopped, and presentlywe saw the brute going away among the trees.
Then Alice did cry, and I do not blame her.
Then Oswald said:
"It's no use. Even if he's undone the door, he may be in ambush. We musthold on here till somebody comes."
Then Alice said, speaking chokily because she had not quite done crying:
"Let's wave a flag."
By the most fortunate accident she had on one of her Sunday petticoats,though it was Monday. This petticoat is white. She tore it out at thegathers, and we tied it to Denny's stick, and took turns to wave it. Wehad laughed at his carrying a stick before, but we were very sorry nowthat we had done so.
And the tin dish the Lent pie was baked in we polished with ourhandkerchiefs, and moved it about in the sun so that the sun mightstrike on it and signal our distress to some of the outlying farms.
This was perhaps the most dreadful adventure that had then ever happenedto us. Even Alice had now stopped thinking of Mr. Richard Ravenal, andthought only of the lurker in ambush.
We all felt our desperate situation keenly. I must say Denny behavedlike anything but a white mouse. When it was the others' turn to wave,he sat on the leads of the tower and held Alice's and Noel's hands, andsaid poetry to them--yards and yards of it. By some strange fatality itseemed to comfort them. It wouldn't have me.
He said "The Battle of the Baltic," and "Gray's Elegy," right through,though I think he got wrong in places, and the "Revenge," and Macaulay'sthing about Lars Porsena and the Nine Gods. And when it was his turn hewaved like a man.
I will try not to call him a white mouse any more. He was a brick thatday, and no mouse.
The sun was low in the heavens, and we were sick of waving and veryhungry, when we saw a cart in the road below. We waved like mad, andshouted, and Denny screamed exactly like a railway whistle, a thing noneof us had known before that he could do.
"DENNY HELD ALICE'S AND NOEL'S HANDS"]
And the cart stopped. And presently we saw a figure with a white beardamong the trees. It was our pig-man.
We bellowed the awful truth to him, and when he had taken it in--hethought at first we were kidding--he came up and let us out.
He had got the pig; luckily it was a very small one--and we were notparticular. Denny and Alice sat on the front of the cart with thepig-man, and the rest of us got in with the pig, and the man drove usright home. You may think we talked it over on the way. Not us. We wentto sleep, among the pig, and before long the pig-man stopped and got usto make room for Alice and Denny. There was a net over the cart. I neverwas so sleepy in my life, though it was not more than bedtime.
Generally, after anything exciting, you are punished--but this could notbe, because we had only gone for a walk, exactly as we were told.
There was a new rule made, though. No walks, except on the high-roads,and we were always to take Pincher, and either Lady, the deer-hound, orMartha, the bull-dog. We generally hate rules, but we did not mind thisone.
Father gave Denny a gold pencil-case because he was first to go downinto the tower. Oswald does not grudge Denny this, though some mightthink he deserved at least a silver one.
But Oswald is above such paltry jealousies.