The Cock-House at Fellsgarth - BestLightNovel.com
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"Thanks," he said, and held out his hand.
Fisher was horribly alarmed. The tone in which the word was spoken was very like that which Giant Blunderbore may have used when dinner was announced. However, he summoned up courage to hold out his hand, and was surprised to find how gently Rollitt grasped it.
"I didn't mean to hurt you with the stones," he said.
"You didn't. Come and look for the boat, Fisher minor."
"He knows my name then," soliloquised the minor, beginning to recover a little from his panic. "I hope n.o.body will see me."
The boat was found bottom upwards--a wreck, with its side stove in, entangled in a ma.s.s of flotsam and jetsam which had gathered in one of the side eddies below the waterfall.
"Haul in, Fisher minor," growled Rollitt, surveying the wreck.
With difficulty they got it ash.o.r.e and turned it right side up.
"Rod, flies, net, all gone," said Rollitt, half angry; "and fish too."
"It was such a beauty, the trout you hooked. I wish you'd got it. You nearly had it too when you had to jump out," ventured Fisher.
Rollitt looked down almost amiably at the speaker. Had the boy studied for weeks he could not have made a more conciliatory speech.
"Can't be helped," said the senior. "Might have been worse. Thanks again. Come and see Mrs Wisdom."
Mrs Wisdom was a decent young widow woman in whom the Fellsgarth boys felt a considerable interest. Her husband, late gamekeeper at Shargle Lodge, had always had a civil word for the young gentlemen, especially those addicted to sport, by whom he had been looked up to as a universal authority and ally. In addition to his duties at the Lodge, which were very ill paid, he had eked out his slender income by the help of a boat, which he kept on the lower reach below the falls, and which was, in the season, considerably patronised by the schoolboys. When last season he met his death over one of the cliffs of Hawk's Pike, every one felt sympathy for the widow and her children, who were thus left homeless and dest.i.tute. An effort was made, chiefly by the School authorities, to get her some laundry work, and find her a home in one of the little cottages on the School farm, near the river; while the boys made it almost a point of honour never to hire another boat down at the lake if Mrs Wisdom's was to be had.
Last week the boat had been brought up to the cottage on a cart, to be repainted for the coming season, and while here Rollitt had begged the use of it for this particular afternoon to fish from in the upper reach.
"Take care of her, Master Rollitt," said the widow; "she's a'most all I've got left, except the children. My John, he did say the upper reach was no water for boats."
"I'll take care," said Rollitt.
As the two boys now walked slowly, towards the cottage, Fisher minor could see that his companion's face was working ominously. He mistook it for ill-temper at the time, for he did not know Mrs Wisdom's history, or what the wreck meant to her.
She was at her door as they approached, and as she looked up and saw their long faces, the poor woman jumped at the truth at once.
"Don't say there's anything wrong with the boat, Master Rollitt. Don't tell me that."
Rollitt nodded, almost sternly.
"It went over the fall," said Fisher, feeling that something ought to be said. "Rollitt only just got out in time."
"Over the fall! Then it's smashed," cried she, bursting into tears.
"It was to keep our body and soul together this season. Now what'll become of us! Oh, Master Rollitt, I did think you'd take care of my boat. It was all I had left--bar the children. What'll _they_ do now?"
Rollitt stood by grimly silent till she had had her cry and looked up.
"I'm sorry," said he, in a voice that meant what it said. "What was it worth?"
"Worth? Everything to me."
"What would a new one cost?"
"More than I could pay, or you either. My John gave five pound for her--and oh, how we scrimped to save it! Where's it to come from now!"
and she relapsed again into tears.
Rollitt waited a little longer, but there was nothing more to add; and presently he signalled Fisher to come away.
He was silent all the way home. The junior did not dare to speak to him--scarcely to look up in his face. Yet it did occur to him that if any one had a right to be in a bad temper over that afternoon's proceedings it was Mrs Wisdom, and not Rollitt.
As they neared the school, Fisher minor began to feel dreadfully compromised by his company. Rollitt's clothes were wet and muddy; his hands and face were dirty with his scramble along the tree; his air was morose and savage, and his stride was such that the junior had to trot a step or two every few yards to keep up. What would fellows think of him! Suppose Ranger were to see him, or, still worse, the Modern Wheatfield, or--
At this moment fate solved his problem. For just ahead of him, turning the corner of Fowler's Wall, was the cadaverous individual who owed him half a crown.
"Oh, excuse me, Rollitt," said he, "there's a fellow there I want to speak to. Good-bye."
Rollitt did not appear either to hear the words or notice the desertion, but stalked on till he reached Wakefields'. The house seemed to be empty. Evidently none of the other half-holiday makers had returned.
Study doors stood open; an unearthly silence reigned in Wally's quarters. Even the tuck-shop was deserted.
The only person he met was Dangle, the clubs' secretary, who had penetrated into the enemy's quarter in order to confer with his dear colleague the treasurer as to calling a committee meeting, and was now returning unsuccessful.
"Ah, Rollitt," said he, "tell Fisher major, will you, I want to see him as soon as he comes in. I'd leave a line for him, but I don't know his room."
Whether Rollitt heard or not, he had to guess. At any rate he hardly felt sanguine that his message would be delivered.
As for Rollitt, he shut himself into his study with a bang, and might have been heard by any one who took the trouble to listen, pacing up and down the floor for a long time that evening. He did not put in an appearance in the common room, and although Yorke sent to ask him to tea, he forgot all about the invitation, and even if he had remembered it, would have forgotten whether he had said Yes or No.
The next morning--Sunday--just as the chapel bell was beginning to ring, Widow Wisdom was startled by a loud knock at her door.
"Oh, Master Rollitt," said she, and her eyes were red still, "is the boat safe after all?"
"No; but I've got you another. Farmer Gay's was for sale on the lake-- I've bought it. It's yours now."
"Farmer Gay's--mine? Oh, go on, Master Rollitt, how could _you_ buy a boat any more than me? You've no money to spare, I know."
"It's yours--here's the receipt," said the boy, with almost a scowl.
"But, Master Rollitt--"
But Master Rollitt had gone to be in time for chapel.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
TRIAL BY JURY.
Fisher minor's hopes rose high within him as he stalked his debtor across the School Green. Three times already he had encountered him, but fate had stepped in to prevent the collection of his dues. Now--