CHAPTER XII.
THE "SPOTTED LEOPARD."
Kitty was miserable that night. An Irish girl has always her ups anddowns. She is either up in the seventh heaven of bliss, or she is downalmost below the ordinary earth in misery. Kitty was suffering from anintense revulsion of spirits. Laurie was in trouble. He was the bestbrother in all the world; he was Kitty's idol. There never was anybodymore reckless, more passionate, more dare-devil than Laurie Malone; andKitty had always been with him heart and soul, always from the time thatthey had been little tots together. And now Laurie was in danger. Thebest broth of a boy might be condemned to go to a school in England; hemight be condemned to the misery, the want of freedom, which she was nowenduring. Oh, she must save him at any risk. She could do so. She couldsend him ten pounds; she would have exactly that sum in her possessionif only Elma returned the eight which she had lent her. It did not occurto Kitty as at all difficult for Elma to return the money. She had neveryet know money difficulties herself; and when Elma had asked for theloan of it she imagined that she could have it back at any time. If thiswas not the case it would not greatly matter; but now, of course,Laurie's letter altered the complexion of everything.
Kitty was too unsettled and anxious to stay quiet for a single moment.She fidgeted Alice, who was busily engaged preparing her lessons for thefollowing day.
"Kitty," she said, when that erratic young person had jumped up to leanher body half out of the window for the twentieth time, "if you cannotsit still yourself, you ought to have some thought for me. What am I todo if you keep rushing to the window and back again to your seat everycouple of minutes?"
"I am looking for Elma," said Kitty.
"For Elma Lewis? Do you expect her to-night?"
"Yes, and on a matter of vital importance. Oh, don't talk to me please,Alice. If she doesn't come soon, I believe my heart will burst."
"That is exactly like one of your exaggerated statements," said Alice."People's hearts don't burst. Oh, if you only would stay quiet."
"I believe that's herself turning round the corner," cried Kitty,bending out so far now that it was a wonder she was not overbalanced.
"Really, Kitty, you make my heart stand still," said Alice. "You willfall out if you are not careful. Oh, for goodness' sake, don't stoop outany further."
"It's not her," said Kitty, popping in her head. "I was only stoopingfar enough to catch a glimpse of her boots. Elma always wears suchhorrid shabby boots; and her feet are too large. By the way, Alice, whatdo you think of these shoes; do you like them with straps across, andlittle rosettes?"
"I don't like anything in the way of dress at the present moment," saidAlice. "I want quiet and peace. It is impossible for me to do anythingwhile you fidget as you do."
Kitty jumped with a bang into the nearest chair; opened a novel, andtried to read it upside down.
"If she isn't in time I won't be able to send the letter to-night andthen--Alice, do you mind my interrupting you for a moment? What timedoes the last post go?"
"The pillar outside the gate is cleared at twelve," said Alice.
"It is only nine now. You don't happen to be able to tell me when aletter, cleared at twelve, would reach Castle Malone?"
"I cannot tell you. Forgive me, Kitty, I cannot stay in the room anylonger. I am going to our bedroom."
Alice gathered up her books, and swept out of tho room. When she reachedthe bedroom she shut and locked the door.
Kitty was now left alone in the drawing-room, for Mr. and Mrs. Denverswere spending the evening out. She was glad of this, as she could leanas far out of the window as she dared, and there was no one to shout ather. She could also pace up and down the room, which she presently didwith the rapidity and eagerness of a young tigress.
Oh, to be back again at Castle Malone! What was Laurie doing now?Suppose Paddy Wheel-about really told her father about Laurie!
Squire Malone was extremely kind to Kitty; there was no saying what hewould not do for Kitty were she in trouble; but Laurie and Pat weredifferent matters. He had fits of severity-with them--only fits, mindyou; for he was too Irish in his character, too generous-hearted, everto keep his anger long; but in these fits he often made strangeresolves, and when these resolves were made, as a rule, he carried themout. He was too proud to change his mind. If once he decided that theboys were to go to school to England, to school they must go--to"prison," Kitty termed it. Tears rose in her bright eyes, they rolleddown her cheeks. Oh, why was not Elma in time? How dreadful, howdreadful if she (Kitty) missed the twelve-o'clock post! She was in thisstate of fret and worry, when Fred entered the room. Fred hated allgirls, with the exception of Kitty Malone. He could not be said by thistime to hate her, for he admired her very much indeed. The moment shesaw him she called out to him to come in.
"Ah, then, Fred, it is you. Come along in," she cried; "you'll be adrain of a comfort--not much, but still a drain. Oh, Fred, it's I who amin the trouble entirely. You wouldn't think it to look at me, but I am."
"Dear me, Kitty I am sorry," said Fred. "What's up? Has Alice beenteasing you as usual?"
"Oh, bother Alice! as if I minded her little pinpricks. It's thatdarling Laurie in Ireland. He has got into trouble, the broth of a boythat he is."
She then related what had occurred in connection with PaddyWheel-about's coat.
"And the poor old coat is in the bottom of the lake," she added, "andthe lake is feet deep in mud just at the bottom, and anything that fallswith a weight into it would sink and sink. Oh, they will never find thecoat till the day of judgment, and it full of beautiful money! And PaddyWheel-about has lost the little grain of sense he ever possessed, andLaurie will be sent to one of those prisons."
"To prison?" cried Fred; "but surely your father--"
"Oh, I mean a school--it's all the same. Don't interrupt me, Fred. Whenmy mind is full I must rattle off the speech somehow."
"And he wants you to send him ten pounds?"
"Yes."
"And have you got ten pounds to send him?"
"To be sure I have--I have ten pounds ten. I am an awful girl forspending money. I bought a whole pound's worth of chocolate yesterday. Ionly wish I had the money now instead; but poor little Agnes Moore andthe other girls in my class, they do love chocolate, and they quite seemto fatten them. I bought the chocolates, and I have got ten shillings inmy pocket."
"But you showed me a whole purseful of gold the other day," said Fred.
"Well, it's gone, Fred, and it isn't gone; but I know who could help meto find it if I could catch a sight of her."
"And who is that?" asked Fred.
"Elma Lewis."
"Elma Lewis! Do you like her?"
"I can't say that I like her--no I don't think I do; but she would helpme, if I could only get to see her."
"Then, do you want me to go to her house and tell her so?"
"Why, Fred, that's a splendid idea. You are a jewel, a darling, a duck!Let me fetch my hat, and you and I will go together."
"But I don't know my lessons yet. It is that beastly German. I havepages to translate. It is such rot."
"Oh, what does the German matter? Think of the misery poor Laurie is in.Just stay where you are, Fred; I'll be back in a minute."
Kitty dashed upstairs, two or three steps at a time, and thundered aloud tattoo on the locked door of Alice's bedroom.
"You cannot come in, whoever you are," cried Alice from within.
"Yes, but I must, Alice, aroon; let me in, jewel that you are. I want myhat, and gloves and jacket, nothing else. Do, for goodness' sake, let mein, Alice, asthore!"
But Alice was obdurate. Once let Kitty in, she would never be able toget rid of her again, and her lessons must be learned. They werespecially difficult and required all her attention.
"Then if you won't," cried Kitty, whose quick temper was beginning torise, "at least fling the things out of the window."
"You know you must not go out at this hour."
"If you won't give them to me,"
said Kitty, "I'll go without them."
"You are not to have them; you are not to go out. It isn't right,"called Alice, who felt strong in the cause of virtue.
Kitty rattled violently on the handle for a moment longer, and thenrushed downstairs again to where Fred was waiting.
"I can't get my hat," she said; "but it doesn't matter. I'll go as Iam."
Now Kitty's dress was more picturesque than suitable. She had on acrimson blouse and a skirt bedizened with many ribbons and frills. Theblouse had only elbow sleeves and was cut rather low in the neck.Nothing could be more becoming to the dancing eyes, the rose-bloomcheeks, the head of dark hair.
"Lend me a cap of yours, Fred, there's a darling," called Kitty, "andwe'll be off. Alice is in one of her tantrums, and she won't let me intoour room nor give me my hat and jacket. If your mother were there itwould be all right."
Fred only thought that Kitty looked remarkably pretty. It did not occurto him as at all queer that she should want to walk a couple of miles inthis erratic dress. He went downstairs, accommodated her with a smallcap which bore the college coat of arms in front, and the two were soonhurrying along the roads at a rapid rate in the direction of Elma'shouse.
There were two ways to Elma's home. One way was by crossing a widecommon, cutting off a certain corner, walking down a by-street, and so,by a series of short cuts, reaching Constantine Road. By the other andslightly longer way you had to pass an open thoroughfare in the centerof which blazed, with its shining lights and its gay exterior, a largepublic-house called the "Spotted Leopard." Now the "Spotted Leopard" wasby no means a nice place to pass at night. Men considerably the worsefor drink were apt to linger about the doors. Gossiping and idle fellowswould congregate just by this special corner, ready to take up any bitof fun or nonsense which might be coming, meaning no special mischief,but being decidedly disagreeable to meet at night.
Fred was as careless a schoolboy as could be found in the length andbreadth of Great Britain; Kitty was equally reckless, perhaps more so,if that were possible. That special evening Fred decided that they wouldnot take the short cut across the common.
"A beastly lonely place at this hour of night," he said, "and the roadis so uneven and there are no lamps. We'll go round by the 'SpottedLeopard'. You don't mind, do you, Kit?"
"Never a bit," answered Kitty. "Come along, Fred; stretch your legs. Imust get to see Elma Lewis to-night as quickly as possible."
Fred walked fast, and Kitty laughed and talked and danced by his side.Now that she was in action she forgot her fears; her volatile spiritsrose once again to a height. She entertained Fred with numerous storiesrelating to Paddy Wheel-about, Laurie, and Pat, and invited him to cometo Castle Malone for the whole of the summer holidays, assuring him thatthe fishing would be splendid, the cycling superb, the riding such aswould make your eyes water, and the shooting and the hunting when thatseason began all that could stimulate the least ambitious of boys. Andwhen Kitty spoke she was apt to illustrate her words, dancing now infront of her companion, now keeping by his side, now lingering a littlebehind him, all the time gesticulating with eyes and lips and gaymotions. She was like a restive young colt--beautiful, excitable. Theboy felt that he had never had such a charming companion before.
All went well, and Kitty's bizarre dress, her hair tossed wildly overher head and hanging partly down her shoulders, her little feet encasedin the shoes with the rosettes and steel buckles, the frills on her gayskirt, her bare arms, failed to attract any special attention. But whenthey got into the neighborhood of the "Spotted Leopard," a blaze oflight fell full across her. She was a remarkable enough figure to be outat this hour, and when joined to the somewhat peculiar spectacle, thewild-looking boys--for they were little more--who had congregated roundthis special corner, saw the college cap on her head, they made a rushforward and the next moment had surrounded her.
They began to laugh and to make facetious remarks. It was all done in asecond. Kitty stood stock still as if some one had shot her. He gaymanner ceased on the instant, she drew herself erect, and the nextmoment aimed a blow straight from the shoulder at the nearest of themen, knocking him over as completely as though he had been a ninepin;then taking hold of Fred's arm--who had come to her rescue, although thepoor lad had not the least idea what to do--marched away, her face ascrimson as her gay silk blouse.
"Well, Kitty, you did that splendidly," he said.
"The impertinent wretches! Don't speak to me about them," answeredKitty. But just then she came face to face with a more seriousobstacle. This was no less a person than Miss Worrick herself.
Now if there was a prim mistress in the whole length and breadth ofEngland, it was Matilda Worrick. She liked girls to be neatly dressed;she could not bear to see them out at what she called inclement hours.She would have thought it the height of impropriety for Kitty and Fredto walk together at such an hour; but when in addition to this Kittywent out in a dress which Miss Worrick would have thought veryunsuitable for home, when she wore a boy's college cap on her head, andwhen she had so far distinguished herself as to have been for a momentthe center of a lot of low noisy, rough men, Miss Worrick felt that themoment had come for her to interfere. She grasped Kitty Malone firmly bythe arm.
"What are you doing, Miss Malone?" she said. "How dare you be out atthis hour?"
"How dare you interfere?" answered Kitty, who, excited already, couldnot for a moment brook Miss Worrick's interference.
"I shall march you straight home," said the mistress. "If Miss Sherrardknew of this she would expel you from the school. You are a very wickedgirl. Fred Denvers, you can go home or go on with your walk, just as youlike, but I have charge of Miss Malone; she belongs to the MiddletonSchool, and I must see her home before I go a step further."
Poor Kitty felt staggered.
"I really meant no harm," she said. "I cannot imagine what you aretalking about. I could not get my hat and jacket, and as it was mostimportant that I should see Elma Lewis, Fred promised to take me to herhouse. Please don't ask me to return now with you, Miss Worrick, Ireally cannot come."
But Miss Worrick was inexorable. She grasped Kitty very firmly by thearm, turned abruptly in the direction of home, and walked forward with afirm step. There was no help for it; Kitty Malone must accompany her.They soon found themselves back again at the Denvers' house. Mr. andMrs. Denvers were out, but Miss Worrick inquired for Alice.
"Ask Miss Alice to come to me immediately," she said to the servant.
The girl looked pityingly at Kitty, who was a prime favorite with her,and then went away to fulfill her errand.
The instant Alice got this somewhat startling message, she forgot herlesson, unlocked her bedroom door, and flew downstairs as fast as shecould. Miss Worrick was standing in the center of the drawing-room.Kitty was leaning up against one of the window-curtains. Kitty's facewas red, her hair was tossed in wild confusion, and her dark eyes seemedto flash fire.
"Alice," said Miss Worrick, coming straight up to Alice when sheappeared. "I must ask you to take charge of Kitty Malone."
"Why so?" asked Alice in some astonishment.
"Just do what I say. Your father and mother are out. Kitty is not toreturn to school to-morrow until she hears from Miss Sherrard. In theabsence of your parents I put her in your charge, Alice. She has behaveddisgracefully, and I shall have the great pain of reporting what I havejust witnessed to our head-mistress to-morrow."
So saying, Miss Worrick walked quickly out of the room and out of thehouse.
"Well, thank goodness, she's gone--the old cat!" cried Kitty.
"Now, Kitty what have you done?" said Alice. "Oh, this is terrible!Fresh scrapes! We seem to live in constant hot water. What is the matternow, you headstrong and dreadful girl?"
"Nothing is the matter," replied Kitty, "absolutely nothing. It is all astorm in a teacup. But if any one is to blame you are the one."
"I?" cried Alice. "What next?"
"Well, you are. You would not give me my hat and jacket
. I have a niceplain hat and a jacket to match. I should have put them on if you hadnot locked our bedroom door, and prevented my coming into the room,which is just as much mine as yours. As it was imperative for me to seeElma Lewis immediately, I asked Fred if he would walk round with me toher house, and I wore his college cap. When we were passing the 'SpottedLeopard' a lot of rough, rude boys rushed out and began to makeimpertinent remarks about my dress. I just gave one of them a black eyeand knocked him over. The next moment I found myself under the fire ofMiss Worrick's anger."
"And small wonder," said Alice. "Kitty, what is to be done? Before youcame here I thought myself a respectable girl--all we Middleton girlsdid; and now for such a fearful thing to happen. Why, it will be allover the place in the morning. They will talk of it everywhere. Oh,Kitty, you have disgraced me for ever."
Here Alice burst into tears.
"Good gracious!" cried Kitty, "what are you crying about? I did nothing;it was the rude men, or boys, or whatever you like to call them, whowere to blame."
"You did nothing, going out in that dress?" cried Alice--"that redblouse, and your arms bare, and with Fred's college cap on your head. Ishould not be a bit surprised if Fred were expelled; he will certainlyget into an awful scrape. Oh dear! oh dear!"
"I cannot imagine what you are talking and crying about," said Kitty."But there; I have got a headache, and am going to bed. I suppose thereis no chance of my--Oh, poor Laurie! What a wicked girl Elma Lewis is!"
Kitty rushed up to her room. Not that she was frightened--that was nother way; but she saw that disagreeable things might be pending. In themeantime her most anxious thoughts were for Laurie. What would happen ifshe could not send him the money by an early post?