The Weathercock Part 40

"Yes, for the cook," said the doctor dreamily.

"Oh, my dear, you should not bring them home. You know how Martha dislikes trying experiments. My dear, what is the matter?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing, only Vane was talking to me, and it set me thinking whether I have done right in trusting Deering as I have."

Aunt Hannah looked as troubled as the doctor now, and sighed and shook her head.

"No," cried the doctor firmly, "I will not doubt him. He is a gentleman, and as honest as the day."

"Yes," said Aunt Hannah quietly, "but the most honourable people are not exempt from misfortune."

"My dear Hannah," cried the doctor, "don't talk like that. Why it would ruin Vane's prospects if anything went wrong."

"And ours too," said Aunt Hannah sadly, just as Vane was still thinking of balloons.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A TELL-TALE SHADOW.

"What's going on here?" said Vane to himself, as he was walking up the town, and then, the colour rose to his cheeks, and he looked sharply round to see if he was observed.

But Greythorpe town street was as empty as usual. There was Grader's cat in the window, a dog asleep on a step, and a few chickens picking about in front of the carrier's, while the only sounds were the clink, clink of the blacksmith's hammer upon his anvil, and the brisk tapping made by Chakes, as he neatly executed repairs upon a pair of shoes.

A guilty conscience needs no accuser, and, if it had not been for that furtive visit to the clock, Vane would not have looked round to see if he was observed before hurrying up to the church, and entering the tower, for the open door suggested to him what was going on.

He mounted the spiral staircase, and, on reaching the clock-chamber, its door being also open, Vane found himself looking at the back of a bald-headed man in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, standing with an oily rag in his hand, surrounded by wheels and other portions of the great clock.

Vane stopped short, and there was a good deal of colour in his face still, as he watched the man till he turned.

"Come to put the clock right, Mr Gramp?" he said.

"How do, sir; how do? Yes, I've come over, and not before it was wanted. Clocks is like human beings, sir, and gets out of order sometimes. Mr Syme sent word days ago, but I was too busy to come sooner."

"Ah!" said Vane, for the man was looking at him curiously.

"I hear she went a bit hard the other night, and set all the bells a-ringing."

"No, only one," said Vane, quickly.

"And no wonder, when folks gets a-meddling with what they don't understand. Do you know, sir--no, you'll never believe it--watch and clock making's a hart?"

"A difficult art, too," said Vane, rather nervously.

"Eggs--actly, sir, and yet, here's your shoemaker--bah! your cobbler, just because the church clock wants cleaning, just on the strength of his having to wind it up, thinks he can do it without sending for me.

No, you couldn't believe it, sir, but, as true as my name's Gramp, he did; and what does he do? Takes a couple of wheels out, and leaves 'em tucked underneath. But, as sure as his name's Chakes, I'm going straight up to the rectory as soon as I'm done, and if I don't--"

"No, no, don't," cried Vane, excitedly, for the turn matters had taken was startling. "It was not Chakes, Mr Gramp; it was I."

"You, Mr Lee, sir? You?" cried the man, aghast with wonder. "Whatever put it into your head to try and do such a thing as that? Mischief?"

"No, no, it was not that; the clock wouldn't go, and I came up here all alone, and it did seem so tempting that I began to clean a wheel or two, and then I wanted to do a little more, and a little more, and I got the clock pretty well all to pieces; and then--somehow--well, two of the wheels were left out."

The clockmaker burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

"I should think they were left out," he cried. "Then I must use your name instead of Chakes, eh?"

"No, no, Mr Gramp; pray don't do that; the rector doesn't know. I only told my uncle, and I wasn't thinking about you when I tried to set it going."

"But, you see, sir, it was such a thing to do--to meddle with a big church clock. If it had been an old Dutch with wooden works and sausage weights, or a bra.s.s American, I shouldn't have said a word; but my church clock, as I've tended for years! really, sir, you know it's too bad a deal."

"Yes, Mr Gramp, it was too bad; a great piece of--of--a.s.sumption."

"a.s.sumption, sir; yes, sir, that's the very word. Well, really, I hardly know what to say."

"Say nothing, Mr Gramp."

"You did tell the doctor, sir?"

"Yes, I told uncle."

"Hum! I'm going to call at the Little Manor to see the doctor about the tall eight-day. Perhaps I'd better consult him."

"Well, yes, speak to uncle if you like, but go by what he says."

The clockmaker nodded, and went on with his work, and from looking on, Vane came to helping, and so an hour pa.s.sed away, when it suddenly occurred to him that Aunt Hannah had said something about a message she wanted him to take, so he had unwillingly to leave the clock-chamber.

"Good-day, sir, good-day. I shall see you this evening."

"Yes, of course," said Vane; and then, as he hurried down the stairs, it seemed as if there was to be quite a vexatious re-opening of the case.

"I do wish I had not touched the old thing," muttered Vane, as he went back. "I couldn't offer him half-a-crown to hold his tongue.

Clockmaker's too big."

But he did not see the clockmaker again that day, for, as he entered the little drawing-room--

"My dear," cried Aunt Hannah, "I was wis.h.i.+ng that you would come. I want you to go over to Lenby for me, and take this packet--a bottle, mind, for Mrs Merry. It's a liniment your uncle has made up for her rheumatism."

"Mrs Merry, aunt?"

"Yes, my dear, at the far end of the village; she's quite a martyr to her complaint, and I got your uncle to call and see her last time you were out for a drive. Have the pony if you like."

"Yes, take her, boy," said the doctor. "She is getting too fat with good living. No; I forgot she was to be taken to the blacksmith's to be shod this afternoon."

"All right, uncle, I'll walk over," cried Vane, "I shall enjoy it."

"Well, it will not do you any harm. Go across the rough land at the edge of the forest. You may find a few ferns worth bringing for the greenhouse. And pray try for a few fungi."