Part 15

“He was off before I could get any words out; so home I went, thinking I should like to be his groom, such a pleasant way he had about him. On my way I passed the village shop, where I got the change, which I put safely away in a drawer with my ties and collars. Miss Pringle had not come back, nor did she come till the afternoon. I had my dinner, and saved a bit as usual to give Mag when my day’s work should be over. Then I worked in the garden, and tidied up the bed under the window. When she returned I had a good long job with the pony and carriage; and before it was over I was sent for suddenly into the house. The maid who fetched me was crying.

“In the parlour Miss Pringle was again at her desk, with her bonnet on, looking very tight and stiff indeed; the cook was wiping her eyes with her apron, and on my matting was standing a policeman, who moved me on to the front of Miss Pringle by the window, and then retired to the door.

“‘John,’ she said, very distinctly and slowly, ‘I have missed a sovereign, which I accidentally left on this desk this morning. Do you know anything of it? You have been at work outside. The other servants know nothing of it, and they and their rooms have been searched.’

“I was dreadfully taken aback, but I denied all knowledge.

“‘Policeman, search him,’ said Miss Pringle, shaking her curls sadly.

“The policeman turned my pockets out, but only found a small curtain-ring, with which I had been betrothed to Nelly a day or two before. (She had another like it; we couldn’t wear them on our fingers, so we kept them always in our pockets.)

“‘Cook, take the policeman to search his room,’ said Miss Pringle, with another shake.

“Cook and policeman went down the garden. Miss Pringle locked the door and pocketed the key. ‘I don’t accuse you,’ she said, ‘but I must take precautions.’

“It was now that I first thought of the money in my drawer. I turned hot all over, and felt my head swimming.

“‘Please, ma’am,’ I stammered, ‘there’s money in my room, but I was given it by a——’

“‘Don’t incriminate yourself,’ said she, coldly and precisely; ‘there are no witnesses present. Silence.’

“The cook and policeman came up the garden; I can hear their footsteps on the gravel now, and the ticking of Miss Pringle’s neat-faced clock. It was half-past four by that clock, I remember—my tea-time, and the time when I usually fed Mag. The thought rushed into my head, if I am taken up what will Mag do? How am I to tell Nelly?

“They knocked at the door, which Miss Pringle unlocked. The policeman put the money he had found on the desk in front of her, and put his hand on my shoulder. The cook sobbed, the clock ticked; no one said anything; Miss Pringle looked away from me, and I really think she was sorry.

“At last she looked up and opened her tight lips, but what she was going to say I never knew, for at that moment I made a bolt through the window, upsetting the neat geraniums in their pots, and tumbling headlong into the flower-bed which I had tidied in the morning, I scudded down the garden into the yard, over the gate into the paddock, through the hedge, and away at full speed in the direction of Nelly’s cottage.

“I can recollect all quite clearly now, up to the moment when I saw the policeman running after me and gaining ground while I struggled through a hedge. Then I got wild and heated, I suppose, and I remember nothing more distinctly. But Nelly says that I came rushing into their garden, shouting to her, ‘Look after Mag,’ for the police were after me for stealing. She thought at first I was at one of my games, and told me to run off and climb up a tree, and she would bring me food; and I was just going off towards the three elms when the policeman ran in and collared me, and then she fought him and called him names till her mother came out and dragged her away. This is what she told me months afterwards.

“That was the last I saw of Nelly for a long, long time. I was locked up, and the magistrates made short work of me. Of course they laughed at my story of the sovereign and the gentleman, for I neither knew his name nor where he lived. All went against me; the shopkeeper proved that I had changed a sovereign, Miss Pringle proved she had left one on her desk, the housemaid proved that I had been gardening at the window, the cook that the money was found in my drawer, and the policeman that I had run away; and that groom never came for the change. The parson gave me a good character, and Miss Pringle asked them to be merciful. How could she help it, poor soul? She really had begun to like me, I believe, but I spoilt it all by telling her that I wanted no mercy from her, as she believed I was a liar. So they sentenced me to be imprisoned for a fortnight, and then to be sent for three years to the Reformatory School which had lately been opened in the county.

“The gaol I didn’t mind so much, though it was bad enough, but that school took all the spirit out of me. There’s no need for me to tell you what I went through there, the washings and scrubbings, the school dress—a badge of disgrace; the having to obey orders sharp, or get sharp punishment; the feeling that all the boys thought me a thief like themselves, and up to all their low ways and talk; and then the bad things I heard, the sense of injustice rankling in my heart, and making me hate every one. I think I should have soon become as bad as any young thief in the place, but for the thought of Nelly and Mag, and even they were beginning to be less in my thoughts, and I was beginning to get hammered down by hard work and punishment into an ordinary dogged young sinner, when something happened which brought the old life into me again, like a shower of rain on a crop in August.

“One day, when I was working at the bottom of the big school field, with a squad of young criminals, under the eye of a task-master, I heard from the other side of the thick hedge the note of a yellow-hammer. Yes, it was the yellow-hammer’s song, ‘a little bit of bread and no che-e-se;’ but I knew in an instant that it was not the voice of a bird, and I knew of only one human creature who could whistle the song so exactly. It was the signal by which Nelly used to make me aware of her arrival, when she came over the fields to see me and Mag at Miss Pringle’s.

“My heart, as they say, nearly jumped into my mouth. I can’t describe to you how it was; I only know that I went on digging with my eyes full of tears—for of course the first fancy that Nelly was really there, fled away almost at once, and left me feeling as if I had had a dream. But then it came again, twice over, and louder, not twenty yards away from me.

“The dream was gone now, and I edged myself down as near as I could to the hedge, keeping my eye on the master. Luckily for me at this moment one young rascal contrived to dig his spade into another’s heel, and got a blow in the face for his pains; and the master was down on the boy that hit him, and marched him off to the house for punishment. I seized the chance, and was at the hedge in a moment, carrying an armful of weeds to throw away in the ditch, so as not to attract the notice of the others. Sure enough there was my own dear old Nelly’s face peering up through a tiny opening which some rabbit had made in coming to feed on our cabbages.

“‘Johnny,’ she whispered, ‘give me a kiss.’

“I scrambled into the hedge and gave her half-a-dozen; but I couldn’t speak; I was far away in a dream again. Nelly, however, was wide awake and knew the value of her time.

“‘I’m staying with Uncle Jonas, in the white cottage next to the turnpike. It’s not a mile away. And look here, Johnny, Mag’s there too. He’s all safe; I’ve put a bit of wire on his door-fastening ever since you were taken up. Do you know, it was open when I took him away that day, but there he was all safe, and I’ve taken such care of him for your sake. We talk about you a great deal, Mag and I do. And, Johnny, you come down and see him. Uncle Jonas says you’re to run away. You’re innocent, you know, so it doesn’t matter. I’ve arranged it all, clothes and everything. We’ll go to America till it’s all blown over, and then——’

“‘Reynardson, down there, what are you doing?’ calls out the master, as he came back to look after his charges. And Nelly’s head slipped away in an instant, leaving, in the hurry, as I noticed, a wisp of her brown hair sticking on a thorn; which, by the way, I managed to secure later in the day, and put away in my trousers pocket for want of a safer place.

“I suppose it was from her Uncle Jonas that Nelly got this notion of America, and waiting there ‘till it’s all blown over.’ Anyhow, Uncle Jonas, like many of the neighbours of the new Reformatory, were on the side of us boys, and aided and abetted Nelly in her scheme for getting me away. He never thought, poor man, he was laying himself open to the law. And that good uncle would have got himself into a serious scrape if things had turned out as they ought to have done, for I contrived to slip away from the school the very next day, and was hidden in the white cottage all that night.

“I had got quite reckless; for, as Nelly said, when one is innocent, what does it matter? And she was so exactly her old self, and took such care of me—burying my school dress in the garden, and rigging me out in some old things of her uncle’s, and laughing at me in my big coat that I soon felt my pluck coming back again, though I cried a good deal at first, from fright as much as joy. And Mag, too, was exactly his old self, and was not a bit ashamed of me; it was some one else he ought to be ashamed of, as you shall soon hear.

“Our good time was soon over. It was the turnpike-keeper who did the mischief. He had seen me come down to the cottage, and he couldn’t resist the reward they offered early next morning to any one who caught me. He sent up a message to the school, and at nine o’clock the master and two policemen walked into the house. Nelly didn’t try to fight this time, but she spoke up and told them it was all her doing and neither mine nor Uncle Jonas’s. She told them that she had brought Mag to see me all the way from home, and that she was sure I wouldn’t run away any more if I might have Mag with me there.

“It was well for me that my wonderful Nelly kept her senses and could use her tongue, for my luck began to turn from that time forwards. The sergeant of police patted her on the head, and took Mag’s cage himself; and the other policeman put into his pocket the handcuffs he had begun to fasten on my wrists, saying they were ‘too big for such a kid;’ and even the master said that though I was in a bad scrape, he would speak for me to the magistrates.