CHAPTER VIII

  Armistice Day

  Diana had a fairly retentive memory, and learned poetry without muchtrouble. By far the hardest part of her punishment was to be forbiddento visit the stable for a week. She was sure Baron would miss her, andthat, though he might receive other offerings of bread and carrots, hewould be looking out and pricking his ears in vain for the friend withwhom he had grown to be on such intimate terms.

  Miss Chadwick, much annoyed at the accident to the cart, treated Dianadistantly. Instead of smiling at her when she came into the room, shewould look round her or over her head, and flash recognition to somebodyelse. It was humiliating to find herself out of favour, especially as itwas noticed and commented on by her form-mates, all of whom werecandidates for Miss Chadwick's friendship. Wendy, toiling away at herpunishment task and grumbling at its difficulty, was not at all acheerful companion. Moreover, it rained--rained for two days and nightswithout stopping; rained as it only can rain in a northern andmountainous district in the month of November. The fells were coveredwith mist, rivers ran down the garden paths, and from the eaves came acontinual and monotonous drip-drip-drip. Diana, whose letters from Parishad been delayed, and who was home-sick in consequence, vibrated betweena fit of the blues and a wild outbreak of spirits. She had reached thestage when she must either laugh or cry. She wandered restlessly roundthe schoolroom on Saturday afternoon, while the others were amusingthemselves with reading, painting, or sewing.

  "What a quiet set you are!" she raged. "Anyone would take you for 'MissPinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies'! Why can't you wake up? This isthe dullest hole I've ever been in in my life. Magsie, stop that eternalsewing, and be sporty! You look like a model for 'gentle maidenhood'. Iwant to stick a pin into you, to see what would happen."

  "Draw it mild, Stars and Stripes," answered Magsie, biting off the endof her cotton. "And be careful about experiments with pins, or somethingmore may happen than you quite bargain for."

  "I don't care! Anything for an excitement! I want some fun, and there'llbe a shindy if I don't get it. Wendy! Vi! Sadie! Do brace up and besports! Let's go on the upper landing and let off steam. It's betterthan moping here."

  Diana, by sheer force of will, carried the day, detached her friendsfrom their several occupations, and bore them, three steps at a time, upthe stairs to the top story. The upper landing was long, and had apolished oak floor; it looked gloomy on this wet afternoon, and the rainmade a continual patter on the roof. In Diana's eyes, however, itafforded a field for enterprise.

  "I've a gorgeous idea!" she purred. "We'll pretend the floor's askating-rink. I've borrowed Loveday's roller skates, and we'll take itin turns."

  That roller skates were hardly meant for indoor amusement did not occurto the girls. They agreed with enthusiasm. In order to share thepleasure Vi and Sadie each buckled one on, and began a series of glides,punctuated by pushes from the other foot. Wendy and Magsie, not to beoutdone, began to slide down the polished floor, and Tattie, who hadpowers of invention, fetched a cake of soap and a sponge, and perfectedtheir activities by making a slippery course along the boards.

  "It's like Alpine sports," exulted Wendy, taking a turn with one of theskates, and skimming at top speed. "Can't you just imagine you're inSwitzerland? I want to make snowballs. Oh! why can't we do sometoboganning? I'd like to go tearing down a hill on a bob-sleigh. Itwould be priceless."

  "You shall do next best to it, my child," said Diana cheerily. "Trustyour granny to find the way for you. I've coasted indoors before now.Wait a second, and you'll see!"

  She disappeared, and in a short time returned with her drawing-board.

  "You just squat on this," she explained, "and you go skimming down thestairs like a water-chute. It'll be prime!"

  "O-o-o-oh!"

  "You _are_ priceless!"

  "Great is Diana of the Americans!"

  The improvised bob-sleigh worked admirably, and if it happened to catch,there was always the banister to clutch at. Its popularity eclipsed eventhat of the soap-slide and the roller skates. The fun waxed fast andfurious, not to say noisy. Bumpings and bursts of laughter began to echodownstairs on to the lower stories. Miss Hampson, coming to unlock thejam-cupboard in preparation for tea, stood for a moment in the corridor,listening like a pointer. Then she thrust the key into her pocket anddashed to the upper regions, just in time to behold Wendy, with scarletcheeks and flying hair, coasting down the stairs on a drawing-board. Fora moment Miss Hampson was without words. She stared, gasping, at Wendy,who hurriedly picked up both herself and the drawing-board, and stood atattention. The sporting party on the upper landing would gladly havemelted away had there been any possible cover, but there was not. Vi andSadie had not even time to kick off their roller skates. Miss Hampson'skeen eyes took in every detail of the trails on the polished oak floor,and the soap-slide. Then they focused on Diana.

  "I can imagine who's been the instigator of all this!" she saidsharply. "We've never been accustomed to such doings at Pendlemerebefore. Miss Todd will be appalled at the damage you've done to thefloor. Go downstairs to the schoolroom at once, and remember that thislanding is prohibited in future. I'm astonished that all of you don'tknow better!"

  It was on the following Monday that tidings of the armistice wereproclaimed. The girls heard the church bells ringing when they were inthe middle of morning lessons, and unanimously "downed books andpencils" and trooped to the front door, where Miss Todd was verifyingthe good news from the butcher boy. For five minutes the school wentwild; everybody joined hands and danced in a circle on the drive,shouting "Hurrah!" After all the long suspense and anxiety the reliefwas stupendous. There was hardly a girl who had not some relation at thefront over whose safety she might now rejoice. That the shadow of morethan four years had at length been removed, seemed almost too good to betrue. Miss Todd and Miss Beverley had gone indoors to find all theavailable stock of bunting; Miss Chadwick was already climbing on aladder up the porch to hang the Union Jack over the threshold.

  "We ought each to have a flag of our own," said Geraldine, who wasintensely patriotic. "I'm going to ask Miss Todd if we may go and buysome."

  Wild schemes for celebrating the day floated in the air, varying from apicnic to a bonfire.

  "The ground is too wet yet for either," decreed Geraldine. "How could wetramp over the fells when everything's a quagmire? And if you think youcan light a bonfire with damp wood, you're jolly well mistaken. We'llcollect sticks, and have one when they're dry. I plump for a flag-hunt.There must be some in the shops."

  Geraldine's suggestions were generally received with favour athead-quarters. Miss Todd felt that the school was fizzing over, and mustfind some outlet for its excitement. An expedition to Glenbury to buyflags seemed feasible. They could have an early lunch, and startimmediately afterwards. Those who possessed bicycles could ride, and therest could walk a mile to Athelton village and catch the motor-omnibuswhich passed there. Everybody was satisfied with the arrangement, andthe cyclists dispersed to oil their machines and pump tyres. Miss Toddand Miss Chadwick were going in the trap; even Spot, with a bow of red,white, and blue ribbon tied to his collar, was to accompany the party.

  Diana did not possess a bicycle, so Wendy, out of sheer good-fellowship,decided to lend hers to Sadie and to take the omnibus, so that sheherself might go in company with her chum. Nine girls and a mistressstarted off in good time for Athelton, slightly in advance of thecyclists, who expected to meet them in Glenbury. Even in the village ofPendlemere and the little hamlet of Athelton people were making peacerejoicings: flags hung from windows, and children ran about blowing tintrumpets, whistles, and mouth-organs. A string of small urchins hadimprovised a band, and paraded proudly along, banging on tin trays andold kettles, and yelling the National Anthem. Men talked eagerlytogether outside the post office; women stood at their doors andwatched, some radiant and excited, and some quieter, with a heartachebehind the smile, as they thought of those lads who would not comemarching home with the
others.

  The wild weather of the last few days seemed to have rolled away withthe war clouds. The sky was flecked with blue, and the trees by theroadside were hung all over with drops that sparkled in the sun likejewels. The brook that ran down from the fells was tumbling along in agreat brown stream, thundering under the bridge; robins, hopping in thewet hedgerows, twittered their plaintive little autumn song. A womanpicked a marigold from her battered, rain-sodden garden, and handed itover the wall to Wendy. Everybody seemed to want to speak, even tostrangers, and to tell how many of their relations had served in thewar.

  At last the omnibus, ten minutes late, came rumbling along, and stoppedto pick up passengers. The school scrambled in, and with difficultyfound places. It was a jolting journey, much crammed up among countrypeople with baskets, but it was fun, even though the rattling almostshook them off their seats, for all the passengers seemed sogood-tempered and jolly. On their arrival at Glenbury they found thetown _en fete_, with bunting hanging across the streets, and largebanners decorating the public buildings. The pavements were so full thatthe crowd overflowed into the road. The cyclist members of thePendlemere party had arrived first, and had already bought flags, whichthey pinned in their hats. The motor-omnibus contingent rushed offimmediately to secure any that were left, and to try to get some sweets.Miss Todd, who had put up the cart at the Queen's Hotel, met them asthey were emerging from the confectioner's, sucking pear-drops andtoffee.

  "You're lucky, for sweets are scarce," she commented. "Thanks verymuch--I won't have one just now. Where are the others? Can you findthem? I'm going to take you all up the church tower to get a bird's-eyeview of the town. It will look nice to-day, with the flags out, and weought to be able to see for miles round."

  Glenbury Church was almost as large as a cathedral, and possessed asteeple which was a landmark for the neighbourhood. It was possible toascend as far as the flying buttresses, and to walk round a stonecauseway that encircled the tower just where the spire tapered up. Theentrance was in the nave, through a small oak door studded with nails.The verger, aged, wheezy, and inclined to conversation, admitted them.

  "You'll get a fine view," he said huskily; "you ought to be able to seethe prison and the cemetery, and, with luck, the lunatic asylum as well.It's over amongst the trees to the east of Chatford. You can't miss itif the sun's shining on the roof. There's been a-many folks up to-day."

  The narrow corkscrew staircase was old and worn, and seemed to twistround and round in an absolutely endless ascent as the girls toiled upits hundred-and-eighty-six steps. To add to their difficulties, partiesof people kept coming down, and the problem of passing was difficult; itcould only be accomplished by the school flattening itself against thewalls while the descending sightseers gingerly made their way round thenarrow centre of the staircase. Tiny lancet windows here and there letin streams of sunshine, but most of the pilgrimage was made in adecidedly "dim religious light". Everyone's knees were aching when atlast they emerged through a small door on to the causeway. They werestanding on a flat terrace edged by a stone parapet just tall enough toallow them to lean their arms on it and look over. Above them rose thespire, tapering thinner and thinner till its slender point ended in aweather-cock. Below, the town lay spread out like an architect's design.They could see the roofs of all the buildings, and the streets, and thelawns, and the pond in the park; all seemed viewed at an unusual angle,for they were gazing down on the tops of things. Round the townstretched miles of misty woods and fields, melting into the grey hazeof the fells. The objects of attraction mentioned by the verger--thejail, cemetery, and lunatic asylum--were not particularly conspicuous,and nobody was very anxious to localize them. The girls walked all roundthe causeway, so as to get the view at every point.

  "I suppose Pendlemere's over there?" said Diana, pointing a brown-glovedfinger in the direction of the fells.

  "Yes; you can see the road we came by in the 'bus," explained Stuart."It winds round by Athelton. There's a much shorter way back, though, ifwe were walking. Do you see that white farm-house on the hill above thepark? Well, you go through the fold-yard, across a field, and down alane, then there's a straight path over the moor, right to Pendlemere.It saves two miles at least. Hilary and Nesta and I walked it once withMiss Todd."

  "Dinky, I should guess."

  "Nice in summer, but it might be pretty wet now."

  Most of the girls agreed that coming down steps was rather worse thangoing up. Their ankles ached when they reached the bottom. The oldverger was taking the sixpences of another party of tourists, andtelling them, in his wheezy voice, to look out for the cemetery, thejail, and the lunatic asylum--to him evidently the three prime points ofinterest in the landscape. Spot, who had been fastened by his leash tothe railings outside, greeted the girls with noisy enthusiasm. Dianauntied him, and gave him a pear-drop.

  "Bless him! He wants a bit of candy as well as the rest of us. He's a'booful' dog with his patriotic ribbon on his collar. Stop barking,that's a cherub boy, or you'll drive your Auntie Diana crazy!"

  There was a short interval of shopping after the excursion up the tower,and then Miss Todd pulled out her watch, compared it with the churchclock, and declared it was time to be returning. The motor-omnibus,which started from Shipham, five miles away, was due in Glenbury at aquarter to four. Miss Hampson marched her contingent to themarket-place, where it always stopped to pick up its passengers. Alreadyquite a crowd was waiting for it--people who had come in from theneighbouring villages to see the peace rejoicings. There was nopoliceman to insist on an orderly queue, so when the great scarletvehicle lumbered up, a wild scramble ensued. Some of the Pendlemeregirls were pushed in amongst the jostling throng, and some were elbowedout. Wendy, Diana, and Miss Hampson, at the tail-end of the crush, triedto scramble on to the step. The conductress, a brawny woman in uniform,stopped them.

  "Only room for one more," she shouted; "and I can't take that dog!"

  "But we'd stand!" entreated Miss Hampson piteously.

  "They're standing as it is! Can't take more than the 'bus is registeredfor, or we'd break down at the hills. Room for one! Which of you'scoming? Be quick! I can't wait all day!"

  It was a matter that had to be decided in a moment. Miss Hampson,knowing that seven of her girls were already packed in the omnibus, feltthat she must go and escort them. She turned desperately to Wendy andDiana, and panted:

  "Miss Todd won't have started yet. Run to the 'Queen's'. She'll take youback in the trap."

  Then she allowed herself to be hustled inside by the impatientconductress.

  The two girls left behind stood staring for a minute after theretreating omnibus. Spot, straining at his leash, barked his loudest.

  "Well, I don't envy them their drive. They're packed like sardines,"commented Wendy.

  "I guess we've got the best of it," agreed Diana.

  Evidently the next thing to be done was to walk to the Queen's Hotel andreport themselves, to Miss Todd. Diana was even beginning to speculatewhether she could advance any possible argument, such as a desire tosave strain on her mistress's arm, whereby she might induce thePrincipal to allow her to take the reins and drive Baron home. They wentalong Westgate, and turned the corner of Hart Street; in another twominutes they would have been in Castle Street. Then fate interfered.From a narrow alley on the right came sounds resembling explosives, andthree small boys, yelling gleefully, shot out into the road. Wendy,pausing to ascertain the cause of the excitement, ejaculated the oneword, "Squibs!"

  "Gee whiz! You don't mean to say they've got fireworks!" exclaimedDiana. "Then I'm not going back till I've bought some. Here,sonny!"--catching a bare-headed urchin by the shoulder--"tell me whereyou got those squibs, and I'll give you my last bit of candy. Mrs.Cobbes's in Beck Street? Where's Beck Street? Is it far? You ought tocome and show us for that big bit of candy."

  "Can't! Got to go 'ome to my tea," returned the youth, whose small teethwere already in the toffee. "Cobbes's is down there!" pointing an armlike a sig
n-post in the direction of a by-street.

  Diana and Wendy did not even wait to discuss the expediency of thusside-tracking. The magic lure of fireworks drew them on, and with oneaccord they trotted off to seek Mrs. Cobbes's shop. It took a littlehunting about and asking to find it; and then Mrs. Cobbes was stout andslow, and seemed to need an eternity of time to wrap up their purchasesin an old piece of newspaper.

  "We shall have to hurry!" said Diana, emerging at last, hugging herparcel, and dragging Spot away from the pursuit of an impudent andprovocative tabby cat, with a torn ear, that was spitting at him fromthe railings.

  They did hurry. They nearly ran up Jessamine Street and Vine Street,and clattered up the steps behind the post office into Castle Street,and tacked through the crowd into the yard of the Queen's Hotel. A wholerow of conveyances was standing with shafts down, but the familiargoverness car was not among them. Perhaps it had been put inside thecoach-house.

  "Miss Todd's trap, did you say?" replied the ostler, removing thefag-end of a cigarette from his lips. "Why, she's gone! I harnessed heronly five minutes ago!"

  Here was a blow indeed! They had never expected Miss Todd to drive awaywithout them, though, considering that she did not know they had beenleft behind by the omnibus, she was scarcely to be blamed for doing so.The two girls looked serious as they walked into the street again.Somehow they felt aggrieved.

  "If the rest haven't started, Magsie and Vi might take us behind them ontheir bicycles," suggested Wendy dubiously. "Hodson's would know ifthey've gone. They were to call for some parcels there."

  It proved a forlorn hope. The girl behind the counter assured them thata party on bicycles, wearing brown tam-o'-shanters, had come and claimedtheir purchases, and ridden off up the street ringing their bells. Thenext motor-omnibus would come through at seven. It was always crowded,and no doubt would be particularly full to-night.

  "There's nothing else for it, Di--we shall have to walk," said Wendyblankly.

  "Whew! It's a pretty good step."

  "Six miles."

  "Je-hoshaphat!"

  "Well, it's no use waiting for the 'bus. We should never get places."

  "Let's take that short cut that Stuart was talking about. She said itsaves two miles."

  "What a brain wave! It's only a quarter past four. We'd be home longbefore dark. You can walk four miles an hour, can't you?"

  "Ra-ther!"

  So they turned across the park, and up the hill to the white farm, andthrough the fold-yard, and over the field, and along the lane on to theopen moor. They felt decidedly pleased with themselves, for it was farnicer here than plodding along the high road. The ground was not so wetas Stuart had prognosticated; indeed the path was quite firm and welltrodden, and in parts was even paved with stones. Spot, released fromhis leash, careered about like a mad creature. Diana could not helpdancing a few steps, and Wendy, though she was growing hungry, stoppedgrousing to admire the view. The sun, a red ball among grey masses ofmist, was sinking behind the fells, and a golden glow tipped the brown,withered heather. The whole atmosphere seemed to reflect peace.Overhead, little radiant clouds stretched themselves into the semblanceof angels' wings moving lightly across the evening sky. To watch themwas like gazing at the portals of a heavenly world.

  The girls walked along as briskly as they could, but on the roughmoorland path it was impossible to keep the pace at four miles an hour.They were going uphill, and, unless they went in single file, one ofthem, owing to the narrowness of the track, was obliged to keep steppinginto the heather. At the top of the crest they dipped down again into ahigh, narrow valley between two fells. It was swampy here, and in placesthere were quite wide pieces of water to jump across. The path, whichhad been growing worse and worse, finally separated into a fork. Thegirls came to a halt, and stood looking first at one track, then at theother. They were in doubt which to choose, for each looked equally bad.They had turned so often that they had rather lost their sense oflocality.

  "I should think Pendlemere must be over there," said Wendy, pointing tothe right, but looking frankly puzzled.

  "Well, you know the place better than I do," answered Diana, followingher lead.

  So they went to the right, through a small thicket of hazel-bushes, oversome rocks, and on up the bleak fell-side. The sun had disappeared, andthe little golden angels' wings had given place to sombre, grey clouds.It was growing distressingly dark. A spot or two of rain began to fall.The path, degenerated into a mere sheep track, was increasinglydifficult to trace. Though neither would admit it, both the girls feltuneasy. They could not recognize any familiar landmarks to show themtheir whereabouts. Suppose darkness came on, and found them stillwandering about on the moor?

  "Do you think we've come the right way?" asked Diana at last.

  Wendy looked round in the fading light, hoping against hope to see thecorner of Pendlemere gleaming below her in the valley. By now itcertainly ought to be visible. Nothing in the shape of a lake, however,appeared in the landscape; only an interminable waste of brown heatherunder threatening rain-clouds.

  "No," said Wendy, with a shake in her voice. "As a matter of fact, Ibelieve we're lost."

  Diana was plucky as a rule, but she was very tired now, and hungry aswell. Two somethings that may have been rain-drops splashed down hercheeks; she turned her face away from Wendy as she wiped them off.

  "What's to be done?" she asked huskily.

  "Go back, I suppose. Goodness knows where this will lead to!"

  "We ought to have taken that other turning."

  "It's too dark to go that way now. We'd better get back to Glenbury, andtry for the 'bus."

  Very soon the girls realized that it was getting too dark even todistinguish the path at all. They stumbled blindly on through theheather, conscious only that they were going downhill, but whether theywere really retracing their steps or not, it was impossible to tell.Spot, whose spirits had failed him, followed at their heels. Faster andfaster fell the darkness; the girls linked arms to avoid gettingseparated. They were both thoroughly frightened. Would they be obligedto spend the night upon the moor? If there were only some means offinding the way back to Glenbury!

  Suddenly, a long distance in front of them, a light flashed out, asthough a candle had been placed in a cottage window. Hope revived. Ifonly they could reach some human habitation, they could ask to bedirected. They dragged their tired feet along, splashing in the darkthrough puddles, sinking in soft ground, or stumbling over stones. Itseemed an interminable tramp before at last they struck the end of awall, and, feeling their way with their hands, groped along till theyreached a gate. The next moment they were rapping with their knuckles ona door.

  It was opened by a thin, middle-aged woman, who stared at them insuspicious amazement as they asked to be directed to Glenbury; then,seeing that they were only girls with their hair down their backs, shecautiously invited them to come in. They accepted thankfully. After thedark and the damp outside, the farm-kitchen seemed a haven of refuge.

  A little boy, who had been sitting by the fireside, sprang up at theirentrance, and faced them with wondering eyes. Something in the smallfigure seemed familiar. Diana's mind galloped rapidly back to a day inlate September when she had crawled along a tree-trunk across a racingtorrent, with a frightened, blue-jerseyed atom of humanity creepingbehind her.

  "Gee-whiz! I guess you're Harry!" she exclaimed heartily.

  The mental thermometer of the kitchen, which had stood at aboutfreezing-point, suddenly thawed into spring. Harry, recognizing hisformer friend in need, hastily explained to his mother, who turned tothe girls with a light in her face.

  "I've always wanted to thank you," she said to Diana; "but I never knewwho it was who'd helped Harry home that day. Sit you down, both of you,by the fire. You'll let me make you a cup of tea?"

  Rest, warmth, and tea were what the tired girls craved. They sat on thesettle, with a little round table in front of them, and ate the sconesand blackberry jam that with true northern hospi
tality were piled ontheir plates. Harry's father came in presently, and, after a whisperedconversation with his wife in the back-kitchen, offered to take alantern and escort the girls back to Pendlemere.

  "It's a goodish step, but you're rested now, maybe, and it's no userisking missing the 'bus at Glenbury, and having to walk it after all."

  A very tired Diana, and an equally weary Wendy arrived at the schooljust when Miss Todd was getting absolutely desperate about theirabsence. She had sent Miss Chadwick to Athelton to meet the seveno'clock omnibus, and the teacher had returned to report that they hadnot come on it. Miss Todd forbore to scold two such limp wrecks, andsent them straight upstairs, with orders for hot baths, bed, and basinsof bread-and-milk. Explanations were reserved for next day, and they didnot get off scot free by any means. Miss Todd had an aggravatinglymathematical mind. She calculated the time the omnibus left themarket-place, the exact moment when she herself started in the trap fromthe Queen's Hotel, the distance between these two given points, and inhow many minutes at the rate of not less than three miles an hour twoordinary walkers should accomplish it. The answer left ten whole minutesto spare, and of that ten minutes of the afternoon she demanded a strictaccount from Diana and Wendy.

  The sinners, whose bones still ached after their adventure, appeared insuch crushed spirits that they did not receive the entire scolding theirhead mistress had intended, and were for once dismissed with a caution.

  "She didn't say we mightn't go to the bonfire," sneezed Wendy, on theirway down the passage. Wendy as usual had taken a cold in her head.

  "I kept the squibs dry, thank goodness!" sighed Diana. "Nobody knowsabout them yet, so we'll let them off as a surprise. Won't they all justjump when they hear them? I'm looking forward to that bonfire as theevent of my life!"