The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 12

"Then we won't go," said Jem, decidedly. "If Mike Bannock says they're fine spots, don't you believe him; they're bad 'uns."

"Then let's go and select a place for ourselves," cried Don.

"Lor! I do wonder at you, Mas' Don, wantin' to leave such a mother as you've got, and asking me to leave my wife. Why, what would they do?"

"I don't know," said Don, sadly. "They care very little for us now.

You can do as you like; I shall go."

"Nay, nay, you won't, my lad."

"Yes, Jem, I think I shall."

"Ah, that's better! Think about it."

"I should have thought that you'd be glad to come with me, Jem."

"So I should, my lad; but there's a some'at as they calls dooty as allus seems to have hold on me tight. You wait a bit, and see how things turn out."

"But I shall have to appear before the magistrates, and be called a thief."

"Ah, well, that won't be pleasant, my lad, of course; but wait."

"Then you wouldn't go with me, Jem?"

"Don't tempt a man, Mas' Don, because I should like to go with you, and course I shouldn't like to go with you, because I shouldn't like you to go. There, I must get on with my work."

At that very moment came the call of a shrill voice--

"Jem!"

"There I told you so. She see me come in here, and she's after me because I haven't got on with my casks. Oh, how sharp she is!"

Jem gave Don an intelligent nod of the head, and moved out, while the lad stood gazing at the opposite window and listened to the sharp voice addressing the foreman of the yard.

"Poor Jem! He isn't happy either!" said Don, sadly, as the voices died away. "We might go right off abroad, and they'd be sorry then and think better of us. I wish I was ten thousand miles away."

He seated himself slowly on his stool, and rested his arms upon the desk, folding them across his chest; and then, looking straight before him at the door, his mental gaze went right through the panels, and he saw silver rivers flowing over golden sands, while trees of the most glorious foliage drooped their branches, and dipped the ends in the glancing water. The bright sun shone overhead; the tendrils and waving gra.s.s were gay with blossoms; birds of lovely plumage sang sweetly; and in the distance, on the one hand, fading away into nothingness, were the glorious blue mountains, and away to his right a s.h.i.+mmering sea.

Don Lavington had a fertile brain, and on the canvas of his imagination he painted panorama after panorama, all bright and beautiful. There were no clouds, no storms, no noxious creatures, no trials and dangers.

All was as he thought it ought to be, and about as different from the reality as could be supposed. But Don did not know that in his youthful ignorance, and as he sat and gazed before him, he asked himself whether he had not better make up his mind to go right away.

"Yes, I will go!" he said, excitedly, as he started up in his seat.

"No," he said directly after, as in imagination now he seemed to be gazing into his mother's reproachful eyes, "it would be too cowardly; I could not go."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

DON AND JEM GO HOME TO TEA.

It required no little effort on Don's part to go home that afternoon to the customary meat tea which was the main meal of the day at his uncle's home.

He felt how it would be--that his uncle would not speak to him beyond saying a few distant words, such as were absolutely necessary. Kitty would avert her eyes, and his mother keep giving him reproachful looks, every one of which was a silent prayer to him to speak.

The afternoon had worn away, and he had done little work for thinking.

His uncle had not been back, and at last Jem's footstep was heard outside, and he pa.s.sed the window to tap lightly on the door and then open it.

"Come, Mas' Don," he said, cheerily, "going to work all night?"

"No, Jem, no. I was just thinking of going."

"That's right, my lad, because it's past shutting-up time. Feel better now, don't you?"

"No, Jem, I feel worse."

"Are you going to keep the yard open all the evening, Jem?" cried a shrill voice. "Why don't you lock-up and come in to tea?"

"There! Hear that!" said Jem, anxiously. "Do go, Mas' Don, or I sha'n't get to the end on it. 'Nuff to make a man talk as you do."

"Jem!"

"Here, I'm a-coming, arn't I?" he cried, giving the door a thump with his fist. "Don't shout the ware'us down!"

"Jem!"

"Now did you ever hear such a aggrawatin' woman?" cried Jem. "She's such a little un that I could pick her up, same as you do a kitten, Mas'

Don--nothing on her as you may say; but the works as is inside her is that strong that I'm 'fraid of her."

"Jem!"

He opened the door with a rush.

"Ya-a-a-as!" he roared; "don't you know as Mas' Don arn't gone?"

Little Mrs Wimble, who was coming fiercely up, flounced round, and the wind of her skirts whirled up a dust of sc.r.a.ps of matting and cooper's chips as she went back to the cottage.

"See that, Mas' Don? Now you think you've all the trouble in the world on your shoulders, but look at me. Talk about a woman's temper turning the milk sour in a house. Why, just now there's about three hundred hogsheads o' sugar in our ware'us--two hundred and ninety-three, and four damages not quite full, which is as good as saying three hundred-- see the books whether I arn't right. Well, Mas' Don, I tell you for the truth that I quite frights it--I do, indeed--as she'll turn all that there sweetness into sour varjus 'fore she's done. Going, sir?"

"Yes, Jem, I'm going--home," said Don; and then to himself, "Ah, I wish I had a home."

"Poor Mas' Don!" said Jem, as he watched the lad go out through the gate; "he's down in the dumps now, and no mistake; and dumps is the lot o' all on us, more or less."

Then Jem went in to his tea, and Don went slowly home to his, and matters were exactly as he had foreseen. His uncle was scarcely polite; Kitty gave him sharp, indignant glances when their eyes met, and then averted hers; and from time to time his mother looked at him in so pitiful and imploring a manner that one moment he felt as if he were an utter scoundrel, and the next that he would do anything to take her in his arms and try and convince her that he was not so bad as she thought.

It was a curious mental encounter between pride, obstinacy, and the better feelings of his nature; and unfortunately the former won, for soon after the meal was over he hurried out of the room.

"I can't bear it," he cried to himself, as he went up to his own little chamber,--"I can't bear it, and I will not. Every one's against me. If I stop I shall be punished, and I can't face all that to-morrow.