The Weathercock Part 7

"Oh!"

Macey was silent after that "oh," and the silence lasted till they reached the manor, for Vane was thinking deeply about the quarrel that morning; but, as the former approached the house, he felt no misgivings about his being welcome, the doctor, who was in the garden, coming forward to welcome him warmly, and Mrs Lee, who heard the voices, hastening out to join them.

Ten minutes later they were at table, where Macey proved himself a pretty good trencherman till the plates were changed and Eliza brought in a dish and placed it before her mistress.

"Hum!" said the doctor, "only one pudding and no sweets. Why, Macey, they're behaving shabbily to you to-day."

Aunt Hannah looked puzzled, and Vane stared.

"Is there no tart or custard, Eliza?" asked the doctor.

"Yes, sir; both coming, sir," said the maid, who was very red in the face.

"Then what have you there?"

Eliza made an unspellable noise in her throat, s.n.a.t.c.hed off the cover from the dish, and hurried out of the room.

"Dear me!" said the doctor putting on his gla.s.ses, and looking at the dish in which, in the midst of a quant.i.ty of brownish sauce, there was a little island of blackish sc.r.a.ps, at which Aunt Hannah gazed blankly, spoon in hand.

"What is it, my dear?" continued the doctor.

"I'm afraid, dear, it is a dish of those fungi that Vane brought in this morning."

"Oh, I see. You will try them, Macey?"

"Well, sir, I--"

"Of course he will, uncle. Have a taste, Aleck. Give him some, aunt."

Aunt Hannah placed a portion upon their visitor's plate, and Macey was wonderfully polite--waiting for other people to be served before he began.

"Oh, I say, aunt, take some too," cried Vane.

"Do you wish it, my dear? Well, I will;" and Aunt Hannah helped herself, as the doctor began to turn his portion over; and Macey thought of poisoning, doctors, and narrow escapes, as he trifled with the contents of his plate.

"Humph!" said the doctor breaking a painful silence. "I'm afraid, Vane, that cook has made a mistake."

"Mistake, sir?" cried Macey, eagerly; "then you think they are not wholesome?"

"Decidedly not," said the doctor. "I suppose these are your chanterelles, Vane."

"Don't look like 'em, uncle."

"No, my boy, they do not. I can't find any though," said the doctor, as he turned over his portion with his fork. "No: I was wrong."

"They are not the chanterelles then, uncle?"

"Oh, yes, my boy, they are. I was afraid that Martha had had an accident with the fungi, and had prepared a subst.i.tute from my old shooting boots, but I can't see either eyelet or nail. Can you?"

"Oh, my dear!" cried Aunt Hannah to her nephew; "do, pray, ring, and have them taken away. You really should not bring in such things to be cooked."

"No, no: stop a moment," said the doctor, as Macey grinned with delight; "let's see first whether there is anything eatable."

"It's all like bits of shrivelled crackling," said Vane, "only harder."

"Yes," said the doctor, "much. I'm afraid Martha did not like her job, and she has cooked these too much. No," he added, after tasting, "this is certainly not a success. Now for the tart--that is, if our young friend Macey has quite finished his portion."

"I haven't begun, sir," said the visitor.

"Then we will wait."

"No, no, please sir, don't. I feel as if I couldn't eat a bit."

"And I as if they were not meant to eat," said the doctor, smiling.

"Never mind, Vane; we'll get aunt to cook the rest, or else you and I will experimentalise over a spirit lamp in the workshop, eh?"

"Yes, uncle, and we'll have Macey there, and make him do all the tasting for being so malicious."

"Tell me when it's to be," said Macey, grinning with delight at getting rid of his plate; "and I'll arrange to be fetched home for a holiday."

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE MILLER'S BOAT.

Vane so frequently got into hot-water with his experiments that he more than once made vows. But his promises were as unstable as water, and he soon forgot them. He had vowed that he would be contented with things as they were, but his active mind was soon at work contriving.

He and Macey had borrowed Rounds the miller's boat one day for a row.

They were out having a desultory wander down by the river, when they came upon the bluff churchwarden himself, and he gave them a friendly nod as he stood by the roadside talking to Chakes about something connected with the church; and, as the boys went on, Macey said, laughing, "I say, Weatherc.o.c.k, you're such a fellow for making improvements, why don't you take Chakes in hand, and make him look like the miller?"

"They are a contrast, certainly," said Vane, glancing back at the gloomy, bent form of the s.e.xton, as he stood looking up sidewise at the big, squarely-built, wholesome-looking miller. "But I couldn't improve him. I say, what shall we do this afternoon?"

"I don't know," said Macey. "Two can't play cricket comfortably. It's stupid to bowl and field."

"Well, and it's dull work to bat, and be kept waiting while the ball is fetched. Let's go to my place. I want to try an experiment."

"No, thank you," cried Macey. "Don't catch me holding wires, or being set to pound something in a mortar. I know your little games, Vane Lee.

You've caught me once or twice before."

"Well, let's do something. I hate wasting time."

"Come and tease old Gil; or, let's go and sit down somewhere near Distie. He's in the meadows, and it will make him mad as mad if you go near him."

"Try something better," said Vane.

"Oh, I don't know. We might go blackberrying, only one seems to be getting too old for that sort of thing. Let's hire two nags, and have a ride."