The Madcap of the School Part 14

The woman, indeed, was a beautiful specimen of Romany blood, tall and dark, with great flas.h.i.+ng eyes and coa.r.s.e black hair. She resembled a man more than the gentler s.e.x. She wore a very short red skirt, and had a little barrel hung over her shoulder by a strap.

"I wish I'd brought my camera!" murmured Raymonde. "I simply hadn't room to stuff it in. It was a choice between it and my night-gear, and I thought Gibbie'd treat me to jaw-wag if I left out my pyjamas."

Aveline descended from the trap to take her photo, hoping to get a snapshot of the gipsies, just as they were, grouped in dramatic att.i.tudes round the dead horse. At the sight of two well-dressed strangers, however, the tribal instincts a.s.serted themselves, and the woman was pushed hurriedly forward by the rest.

"Tell your fortune, my pretty lady!" she began to Aveline in a half-bold, half-wheedling voice. "Cross the poor gipsy's hand with a s.h.i.+lling and she'll read the stars for you!"

"No, thanks!" said Aveline, rather scared by the woman's jaunty, impudent manner. "I only wanted to take a photo."

"Cross the gipsy's hand first, lady, before you take her photo. Don't you want to know the future, lady? I can read something in your face that will surprise you. Just a s.h.i.+lling, lady--only a s.h.i.+lling!"

The rest of the tribe were approaching the trap and begging from Raymonde, looking so rough and importunate that the girls began to be thoroughly alarmed, and afraid for the safety of the money they had brought with them. Aveline regretted her folly in having dismounted from the gig, and backed towards it again, pestered by the gipsy. She did not want a photo now, only to get away as swiftly as possible. But that the dark-eyed crew did not seem disposed to allow. A dusky hand was laid on the pony's reins, and a voluble tongue poured forth a jumble of planets and predictions. The situation had grown extremely unpleasant for the girls, when fortunately a cart was seen coming in the distance. The gipsies melted away instantly, Aveline jumped into the trap, and Raymonde whipped up Dandy, who evidently resenting on his own account the tribe's interference, set off at a swinging pace, and soon left the caravan behind. In another ten minutes they had reached the outskirts of Ledcombe, and arrived at civilization.

The little country town was one of those sleepy places where you could almost shoot a cannon down the High Street without injuring anybody.

There were shops with antiquated-looking goods in the windows; a market hall, closed except on Tuesdays; a church with a picturesque tower, a bank, and a large number of public-houses. It seemed to the girls as if almost every other building displayed a green dragon, or a red lion, or a black boar, or some other sign to indicate that the excessive thirst of the inhabitants could be satisfied within.

Raymonde felt rather nervous at driving in the town, but fortunately, being a Thursday morning, there was little traffic in the streets. Had it been market day she might have got into difficulties. She sat outside in the gig while Aveline went into the shops and purchased the various commodities on Miss Jones's list. These were so many, that by the time everything had been bought the gig was crammed to overflowing, leaving only just room for the two girls. Raymonde sat with her feet on a sack of potatoes, Aveline clutched the big baskets full of loaves and vegetables, while parcels were piled up on the floor and on the seat. Their business had taken them longer than they expected, and the church clock warned them that they must hurry if the potatoes were to be cooked in time for dinner. As soon as they were clear of the town, Raymonde attempted to communicate the urgency of the case to Dandy. Her efforts were in vain, however. That faithless quadruped utterly refused to proceed faster than an ambling jog-trot, and took no notice of whipping, prodding or poking, beyond flicking his ears as if he thought the flies were troublesome.

"We shall never get back to the camp at this rate," lamented Raymonde.

"What are we to do?"

"Geordie suggested 'cuss words'," grinned Aveline. "I expect that's what Dandy's accustomed to from most of his drivers."

"Don't suppose he'd be particular as to the exact words," said Raymonde. "Probably it's the tone of voice that does it. Let's wait till he gets to the top of this hill, then I'll prod him again, and we'll both growl out 'Go on!' and see if it has any effect."

"If it hasn't, I shall lead him and run by his head. It would be quicker than this pace."

"We'll try shouting first. Here we are at the top of the hill. Now, both together, in the gruffest voice you can muster. Are you ready?

One--two--three--GO ON, DANDY!"

Whether it was really the result of the deep ba.s.s tones, or Raymonde's unexpected prod, or merely the fact that they had arrived at the summit of the slope, the girls could not determine, but the effect on the pony was instantaneous. He gathered all four legs together, and gave a sudden jump, apparently of apprehension, then set off down the hill as fast as he could tear.

"Hold him in!" yelled Aveline, alarmed at such an access of speed.

"I'm trying to!" replied Raymonde, pulling at the reins as hard as her arms would allow.

Dandy, however, seemed determined for once to show his paces, and took no more notice of Raymonde's checking than he had previously done of her urgings. The little trap was flying like the wind, when without the least warning a most unantic.i.p.ated thing happened. The worn, crazy old straps of the harness broke, and the pony, giving a wrench that also snapped the reins, ran straight out of the shafts. The gig promptly fell forward, precipitating both girls, amid a shower of parcels, into the road, where they sat for a moment or two almost dazed with the shock, watching the retreating heels of Dandy as he fled in terror of the dangling straps that were hitting him on the flanks.

"Are you hurt?" asked Raymonde at last, getting up and tenderly feeling her sc.r.a.ped s.h.i.+ns.

"No, only rather bruised--and astonished," replied Aveline.

Then the humour of the situation seemed to strike both, for they burst into peals of laughter.

"What are we to do with the trap?" said Aveline. "We can't drag it back ourselves. And what about the pony? He's playing truant!"

"And Mr. Rivers said he was so quiet and well-behaved that a baby in arms could drive him!" declared Raymonde, much aggrieved.

"Well, they shouldn't patch their harness with bits of string!" said Aveline. "It's very unsafe. I noticed it before we started out, but I supposed it would be all right. Hallo! Here's Dandy back! Somebody's caught him!"

It was the gipsy woman who made her appearance, leading the pony. She looked rather scared, and much relieved when she saw Raymonde and Aveline standing safe and sound in the middle of the road.

"I thought for sure someone was killed!" she remarked when she reached the scene of the accident. Though the girls had been frightened of her before, they were glad to see her now, for they had no notion what to do next. She at once a.s.sumed command of the situation, sent one of the children, who had followed her, back to the caravan to fetch her husband, and with his a.s.sistance set to work and patched up the harness.

"We're tinkers by trade, lady, so we know how to put in a rivet or two, enough to take you safely home, at any rate; but they don't ought to send that harness out again, it's as rotten as can be. Mr.

Rivers's, did you say? Why, it's his farm as we're going to, to pick strawberries, as soon as we can get there, with our horse lying dead!"

A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind, and before the harness was mended the girls had struck up quite a friends.h.i.+p with the gipsies, which was further cemented by the transference of half a crown from Raymonde's purse to the brown hand of the woman, and the bestowal of the greater part of Aveline's chocolates into the mouths of the dark-eyed children.

Dandy was placed between the shafts once more, and the parcels were restored to the gig. The girls, being doubtful as to the security of the hastily-mended harness, did not venture to mount inside, but led the pony by the head, lest he should be inspired to race down another hill. It was a slow progress back, and the workers were just returning from the fields as they reached the camp. Naturally there were no potatoes for dinner that day, though Raymonde and Aveline congratulated themselves that the bread was just in time. They were the heroines of the hour when they related their adventures, and even Miss Gibbs did not scold them, though they afterwards heard her remarking to Miss Hoyle that Miss Jones was a poor manager, and ought to make better arrangements about catering.

"Gibbie's got to let fly at somebody!" chuckled Raymonde. "If it can't be us, it's someone else, but she'd better not try criticizing Miss Jones's methods to her face, or there'll be fighting in the camp."

"Wouldn't I like to see a match between them!" sighed Aveline. "I'd stake my all on Gibbie, any day!"

"I don't know," said Raymonde reflectively. "Gibbie has fire and spirit, and powers of sarcasm, and traditions of Scotch ancestry; but there's a suggestion of icy stubbornness about Miss Jones that looks capable of standing out against anybody with bulldog grit. I believe I'd back Miss Jones, if it came to the point!"

CHAPTER XII

Amateur Detectives

The girls felt that their short week of strawberry picking was crammed more full of experiences than a whole term of ordinary school life.

There were so many interesting people at the camp who had been working at various absorbing occupations, and were ready to talk about their adventures. Miss Hoyle could give accounts of celebrities whom she had been sent to interview by her newspaper; Miss Gordon, the Social Settlement secretary, had stories of factory girls and their funny ways and sayings to relate; Nurse Gibbons had much to tell about her training in a London hospital; Miss Parker was an authority on munition work, and Miss Lowe, an artist, drew spirited sketches of everybody and everything, to the amus.e.m.e.nt of all. There was a great feeling of comrades.h.i.+p and bonhomie in the camp; everyone was ready to be friendly, and to meet everybody else on equal terms. There was only one member who did not seem responsive and ready to mix with the others. This was Mrs. Vernon, a shy, reserved little woman, who never blossomed out into any confidences. She would sit and listen attentively to all the tales told by Miss Hoyle and Miss Parker, and would even question the latter about her munition work, but she gave no information at all respecting herself or her occupation. It was rumoured that she was a widow, but the report was not confirmed. The Marlowe Grange girls did not much like her, and took very little notice of her. It was the easiest thing in the world to ignore her, for she seemed to shrink from even the most ordinary civilities, and would vouchsafe nothing but a curt reply when spoken to.

On the morning after the expedition to Ledcombe there was considerable excitement in Raymonde's tent. Katherine woke up with her face covered with a rash. Morvyth, who slept next to her, noticed it immediately, and told her that she had better stay in bed until Miss Gibbs saw her.

Naturally Miss Gibbs was in a state of great apprehension, and feared that Katherine must be sickening for measles, scarlatina, chicken-pox, or some other infectious complaint. Manifestly the first thing to be done was to send for a doctor. The nearest medical man lived at Ledcombe, and in order to save time Raymonde and Aveline offered to walk in to s.h.i.+pley village, and telephone to him from the post office there.

"Nice little business if Kitty starts an epidemic in the camp!" said Aveline as they went along. "I suppose we couldn't go back to school?"

"No, and we shouldn't be allowed to pick strawberries either, if we were infectious. They'd turn us out of the camp, and treat us like lepers."

"Oh, I say! It would be no fun at all!"

They had reached s.h.i.+pley by this time--a little quaint old-world place consisting of one village street of picturesque cottages, most of them covered with roses or vines, and with flowery gardens in front.

The tiny church stood on a mound, surrounded by trees, and looked far smaller than the handsome vicarage whose great gates opened opposite the school. The post office appeared also to be a general store, where articles of every description were on sale. From the ceiling were suspended tin pails, coils of clothes-line, rows of boots or shoes, pans, kettles, brooms, and lanterns, while the walls were lined with shelves containing groceries and draperies, stationery, hosiery, quack medicines, garden seeds, and, in fact, an absolutely miscellaneous a.s.sortment of goods and chattels, some old, some new, some fresh, some faded, some appetizing, and some decidedly stale.

Raymonde asked to use the telephone, and retired to the little boxed-off portion of the shop reserved for that instrument, where she successfully rang up Dr. Wilton, and received his promise to call during the morning at the camp. This most pressing business done, they proceeded to execute a few commissions for Miss Jones, Miss Lowe, and several other members of the party. Miss Hoyle had begged them to buy a few yards of anything with which she might trim a large shady rush hat she had brought with her, so the girls asked the postmistress to show them some white ribbon. That elderly spinster, having first, with considerable ingenuity, satisfied her curiosity as to the object for which they required it, commenced a vigorous hunt among the miscellaneous collection of boxes in her establishment.

"I know I have some," she soliloquized, "for it was only six weeks ago I sold a yard and a half to Mrs. c.o.x, to finish a tea-cosy she was making. Where can I have put it? No, this is lead-pencils and india-rubber, and this, neuralgic powders and babies' comforters. It might have got into the small wares, but I had that out only yesterday. Why, here it is, after all, among the tapes and b.u.t.tons!"

The girls soon found that shopping at s.h.i.+pley possessed an immense advantage over kindred expeditions in town. When there was only a single article, no selection could be made; it was impossible to be bewildered with too many fineries, and "This or nothing" offered a unique simplicity in the way of choice. Miss Pearson, the postmistress, decided for them that the ribbon was the right width and quality, and even offered a few hints on the subject of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g.

"I believe she's longing to do it herself!" whispered Aveline. "Are those specimens of her millinery in the window? I'd as soon wear a cauliflower on my head as that erection with the squirms of velvet and the lace border!"

"You're sure three yards will be sufficient?" pattered the little storekeeper. "Well, of course you can come for more if you want. I'm not likely to be selling it out, and, if anybody should happen to come and ask for the rest of it, I'll get them to wait till you've finished tr.i.m.m.i.n.g your hat. Dear me! If I haven't mislaid my scissors now! I was cutting flowers with them in the garden before breakfast, and I must have put them down in the middle of the sweet peas, or on the onion bed. It wouldn't take me five minutes to find them. You'd rather not wait? Then perhaps you'll excuse my using this."