CHAPTER XII
Pixie-led
Next morning Merle got out of bed on the wrong side. She did itdeliberately and with intention. It was a rather awkward business toachieve, too, for the beds were placed close together with only a fewinches between them, and to make her left-handed exit she was obliged toscramble over the recumbent form of Mavis, who protested sleepily.
"Don't care! Bags me first innings at the hot water," blustered Merle,bouncing down with a plump on to the rush mat in front of the wash-handstand.
"Don't care came to a bad end," quoted a dormouse voice among theblankets.
"Right-o! I'm in for it."
After such a shameless tempting of fate it was not to be wondered atthat matters immediately turned in the direction of bad luck.
Merle poured out a liberal half of the hot water which Jessop hadbrought, then seized up the toilet jug to add some cold. But either herhand was wet or she was careless, or some unseen imp actuallyintervened; anyhow, the handle slipped from her grasp, down fell thejug, breaking its spout, and the contents spread themselves over thefloor.
Anybody who has ever upset a bedroom jug must have been astonished atthe enormous volume of water it contains. It seemed to Merle as if thebath had suddenly emptied itself. Streams and trickles were runningeverywhere, and the rush mat was a swamp. She stood staring at it inutter consternation.
"Mop it up, you Judkins!" shrieked Mavis, now thoroughly awakened. "Whycan't you mop it up? Goody, what a mess!"
Mavis put one foot out of bed into the wet pool, and drew it back like acat. She reached for her bedroom slippers, pulled them on, then set towork with a sponge to try and remedy the damage. For what seemed aboutfive minutes the girls were mopping and dabbing, getting the bottoms oftheir nightdresses soaked in the process, and having to scramble underthe beds to follow some of the streams. Jessop, hearing the commotion,came in and scolded.
"The new toilet jug! Whatever were you doing? What will your aunt say,I wonder? Girls are as careless as boys it seems to me! I used to makeMaster Cyril wash in the bathroom. We shall have to buy you enamel-wareif you break the china. Rivet it, did you say? No one could rivet thesebits! Besides which, the old man who used to come round riveting thingshas never turned up since the war. The jug's done for and that's thelong and short of it. There, get on with your dressing, or you'll belate for breakfast. I'll bring you some more water in a can. I supposegirls will be girls, and the thing's done now, and past praying for, sothere's an end of it."
It might be the end of the water jug, but unfortunately it was not theend of Merle's ill-luck. She must have been in a particularly awkwardand maladroit mood, for at breakfast-time she actually managed to upsether cup of tea.
"Hello! What are we doing here?" asked Uncle David, peering round hisnewspaper at the puddle on the clean tablecloth.
"I don't know. I think the pixies nudged me. I'm fearfully sorry,"apologized Merle, thanking her stars privately that Jessop was not inthe dining-room, and hoping to escape to school before that alreadyoffended domestic deity came to clear away and discovered the tell-taleevidence.
"Ah yes! Put it all on to the pixies; they've broad shoulders," twinkledUncle David, as he helped himself to more bacon.
"It's like the Mad Hatter's tea-party," grunted Mavis, moving fartherdown the table to avoid the wet patch, which had spread in herdirection.
Certainly Merle seemed pixie-led, for everything went wrong. When sheput on her boots she broke her boot-lace, and had to piece it with a bigknot which ran into her instep and hurt her. She struggled into hercoat, slammed on her hat, and tore out after Mavis, who had alreadystarted; but when she was half-way along the High Street she discoveredthat she had forgotten one of her books and had to run back for it. Itwas in the summer-house, at the bottom of the garden, where she had leftit the day before, and as she scurried up the steps she stumbled andfell, and grazed her knee. She picked herself up, looked ruefully at theinjured limb, seized her book, and rushed away, limping slightly on oneleg, and grousing hard. She was late for school, though, in spite of herbest efforts, and only slipped into the big classroom just when MissPollard was closing the register.
"Where have you been, Merle?" inquired Miss Pollard in the mostscholastic manner she knew how to adopt.
"I forgot my history and went back for it--I'm very sorry," gaspedMerle, much out of breath with running.
Opal smiled, and counted over the books which she held on her lap withthe air of one who is thinking to herself: "Other people don't forgettheir things!" Merle, by this time thoroughly cross, frowned at herdarkly. There was something so aggravatingly smug about Opal; all herpeccadilloes were well hidden, and never came under public and officialnotice. She took advantage of her position, too; for, as the girls filedout of the room, she stroked Miss Pollard's arm caressingly as shepassed, a token of affection which Merle, who admired the head mistressafter yesterday's tea-party, would have loved to bestow but did notdare.
The pixies would not let Merle alone that morning. They jerked her pen,so that she made blots on her exercise, they whisked dates out of hermemory, and put wrong figures into her sums. When it came to literaturelesson they must have deliberately absconded with her copy of _JuliusCaesar_. She hunted for it in vain.
"I _know_ I left it in my desk yesterday," she assured Miss Fanny, whowas waiting to take the class and chafing at the delay.
"You ought to have your books ready. Be quick and look again. It'sprobably underneath something else," urged the mistress impatiently.
Merle seized a top layer of textbooks and essay paper and dumped themdown on the floor, the more readily to burrow deeper into the rathermixed and miscellaneous collection in her desk.
"Merle Ramsay! Really, you forget yourself," chided Miss Fanny. "Pickthose things up and put them back. A more disgracefully untidyperformance I never saw. I won't have that litter on the floor. Is your_Julius Caesar_ there, or is it not?"
Apparently it was not, for Merle turned over her heap of confusion invain; and in her agitation let the lid of the desk fall with an awfulslam that echoed through the room. She sat up scarlet in the face.
"That will do!" said Miss Fanny icily. "You must look on with Mavis ifyou can't find your own."
"Please, Miss Fanny, I saw a _Julius Caesar_ in the pound this morning,"volunteered Opal demurely. "I don't know whose it is."
The mistress turned to the lost-property basket, stooped down, drew outthe missing book, and handed it reproachfully to Merle.
"If you kept your desk in better order you wouldn't lose your things.See how you've delayed the whole form! You must bring a penny for themissionary box this afternoon."
Merle sat through the lesson with a face like thunder. She wasabsolutely certain that she had left the book inside her desk, and shestrongly suspected Opal of having deliberately taken it out and placedit in the pound.
"Just like one of her disgusting tricks. She'd do anything mean. I'llhave something to say to her after school," she mused gloomily.
She tackled Opal in the cloakroom when the latter was tying hershoe-laces.
"Look here, you blighter," she began, "what do you mean by cribbing mybooks and sticking them into the pound? It's the absolute limit."
Opal tied an elegant bow, and put out a foot to admire the result.
"I've never seen your books, my good girl," she yawned. "What are yousetting on me for?"
"You have! You took it out of my desk and put it in the pound onpurpose. I know you did!"
"I didn't!"
"What a whopper!"
"Look here, just stop talking!"
"I shan't! I'll say what I think. We used to play 'rags' at WhinburnHigh, but when one girl started that rag of hiding books we all 'booed'her out of our secret society as a sneak."
"How clever of you!" sneered Opal. "What you did at your precious highschool is nothing to me, I'm sure."
"Well, my _Julius Caesar_ is at any rate. You took it away, and it's youwho've got to put t
he penny in the missionary box for it."
"Don't count on me to pay your fines for you; I'm always stony broke,"laughed Opal, as she put on her coat.
"Opal Earnshaw, I _shan't_ pay that penny when it's your business."
"Dear, dear! What tempers we get ourselves into!
"'Little children should not let Their angry passions rise! Their little hands were never made To scratch each other's eyes!'"
Opal spoke airily as she arranged her hat.
"It'll come to scratching in another moment!" exploded Merle. "You_know_ it's all your fault."
"Merle, _darling_! _Don't!_" remonstrated Mavis, seizing her sister'sarm and whispering "It's no use and it only makes Opal all the nastier.I've put the penny in the box for you already. I told Miss Fanny, andshe said it was all right. It's a shame, I know, but we can't doanything."
"I'd like to spifflicate that girl," fumed Merle, looking after Opal,who was walking away giggling.
Poor Merle took life hardly. She went home still reviling Fate. Directlylunch was over she seized her writing-pad and scribbled the followingletter as fast as her pen would go.
"Un-dear Opal,
"I think you're the horridest, meanest girl I have ever met in my life, and that's saying something. You think yourself very clever and pretty, and all the rest of it, but you're not. You may get Miss Pollard to shut her eyes to what you do, but some day she'll find you out and then there'll be squalls, and I for one shall dance for joy. If you want to know what I think about you, I call you a proud popinjay; it's the best name to suit you! I wish you were not at this school or else that I hadn't come to it!
"With the reverse of love, "Yours unaffectionately, "MERLE RAMSAY."
"There! That's done me good!" she declared, handing the letter to hersister.
Mavis read the effusion quite calmly, folded it, and placed it in theenvelope addressed to Miss O. Earnshaw.
"Shall we put it in our usual post office?" she asked, then dropped itinto the fire.
She understood Merle, who loved to relieve her feelings by writingviolent letters, which fortunately never reached the people to whom theywere directed. It was merely a form of letting off steam, and did nobodyany harm. Mavis always took care, though, to make sure that the epistleswere safely consigned to the flames. She had pulled Merle out of manyscrapes, and knew just how to manage her hot-tempered sister.
"Opal's simply not worth thinking about," she consoled. "Let's forgetthis business. Uncle David says he's going to pay a visit at a farm onthe moor this afternoon, and if we'll scurry home quick from school atfour, he'll wait for us and take us with him."
"Oh, Jubilate!" rejoiced Merle, recovering her good spirits. "What fun!I was just pining for a jaunt in the car. Go? I should think we will,rather! We'll fly the very second Mademoiselle lets us off. Thankgoodness, it will be something decent to think about all the afternoon.Opal Earnshaw may go to Hong-Kong if she likes. I don't care about herand her meannesses. We're wangling a drive with Uncle David.Cock-a-doodle-do!"
Merle got through her music lesson with moderate success, and did herdrawing with tolerable correctness, so, except for a lost button andbreaking the hinge off her pencil-box, she had no more conspicuousmishaps. She nearly undid herself by catching up her drawing-board andrising to go the moment the clock began to strike four, which caused aglare from Mademoiselle, who added:
"Sit down till I dismiss the class. If you go too soon I shall make youstay behind all the others and wait."
"HERE WE ARE AT CROSS NUMBER TWO" _Page 163_]
Much terrified lest the teacher should keep her threat, Merle poppedback into her place, and filed out in orderly fashion behind MaudeCarey, fuming that the latter's movements were so dilatory and slow. Sheand Mavis hurried home almost at a run.
After all they need not have been in such fearful haste, for they foundUncle David and Tom busy in the yard putting the spare wheel on the car.
"Just had a puncture," explained Dr. Tremayne. "A nasty bit of brokenglass in the High Street. Fortunately I was almost home. No, Tom, Ihaven't time to stay now while you mend it. I must get off to see oldMr. Tracy at once. We must just trust the spare wheel won't puncture,that's all. People ought to be prosecuted for leaving broken glass aboutto cut tyres. It's a dastardly trick to play on motorists. If I were amagistrate I'd fine them for it. The amount of time I waste overpunctures is perfectly disgusting."
The spare wheel was put on at last, in place of the one with thepunctured tyre, and Uncle David and Mavis and Merle got into the car,and started off on to the moors. It had been quite clear in Durracombe,though not sunny, but directly they were up amongst the peat and heathergreat white clouds came rolling across the road, and in a few momentsthey were in the thickness of a white Devonshire mist. It was possibleto see only for about a space of ten feet all round them. The doctordrove slowly, sounding his horn to warn anybody who might be approachingeither in front or from behind.
"I didn't think we should have caught a mist to-day," he commented. "I'dhave started earlier if I'd known it was going to be like this. Curioushow these queer fogs come on. I suppose it's our nearness to the sea.It's a regular winding-sheet. No use turning on the lamps, for theydon't help. What's that! G-r-r-r! Great Scott! I believe we've gotanother puncture!"
The unmistakable jarring sensation that betrays mishap to a tyre broughtDr. Tremayne to a sudden standstill. He got out to inspect.
"Yes, it is! And the spare wheel, too! Of all the hard luck. I shallhave to set to work and mend it. And here in the midst of all the fog.It might have kept up till we'd reached the farm. This is the secondpuncture this afternoon."
"I'm afraid I'm the Jonah," said Merle. "I've had a pixie day ever sinceI got up this morning. Every single thing has gone wrong. I believe inbad luck, especially if you start badly. You'd better throw meoverboard."
"We must get started again before we can throw anybody overboard."
"Can we help you, Uncle?" asked Mavis.
"No, dear, not just at present. It's a question of finding the puncture.Ah! Here it is! And, would you believe it? another bit of broken glass!Some wretched tourist has been picnicking up here, I suppose, andsmashed a ginger-beer bottle. Well, now I've found the spot, I can getto work."
It was rather cold standing in the midst of the fog watching UncleDavid. The girls began to walk up and down the road instead while theywaited for him. They could see a patch of heather on either hand, andoccasionally, looming through the mist, the dark body of a mountain ponyor a bullock. Quite close to them, on the top of a small mound, was alittle old, old worn cross, and they naturally stepped aside to look atit. Perhaps it marked some traveller's grave, or had been part of ashrine in long-ago times. Standing by its shaft they could make outthrough the fog another cross only a short distance away. It seemed apity not to inspect this also. It was a far finer one than the first,and they walked all round it; then because they thought they spied acromlech on the top of another mound they set off to inspect that too.It was not a cromlech after all, only a pile of boulders, so they turnedback again.
"Here we are at cross number two," said Merle.
"Ye-e-s," agreed Mavis doubtfully. "It seems to have gone rathersmaller, though. I don't remember that clump of ferns at the bottom."
"Well, there's the first cross at any rate. Come along."
But when they reached what they supposed to be the first cross they weremore doubtful still. It was quite unfamiliar. Moreover, there was noroad within sight of it.
"We--we've come wrong!" faltered Merle.
"There must be several of these crosses."
"Let's go back to that one over there, then perhaps we shall find ourfirst one."
But meanwhile the treacherous mist was rolling up thicker and thicker.The girls hurried back as fast as they could, but this time they missedthe cross altogether. There is nothing so easy as to get lost
in a fogon the moors. Thoroughly frightened, they called to Uncle David, butthey could hear nothing in reply. They wandered on, hoping he wouldsound the hooter and so give them some clue to his whereabouts, buteverything was deadly still. It seemed as if a great white wall hadarisen and shut them up in some elfin castle on the moor.
"We're pixie-led. That's just all about it," said Merle. "I told you itwas an unlucky day."
"Well, look here, we mustn't go too far! If we walk on like this we maybe going straight away from the road, and might tramp miles or get intoa bog. We'd better stay where we are and shout every now and then, andperhaps Uncle David will find us."
Two very forlorn girls, feeling extremely chilly and cold in the clammyfog, squatted down on the heather and took it in turns to call"Coo-e-ee!"
"What are we to do if we have to stop here all night?" asked Merle,nearly crying.
"I don't know!"
"How long do these mists last?"
"Oh, days and days sometimes I suppose!"
"Should we be dead before morning?"
"Oh, I hope not! Shout again!"
They both called together, but there was no response.
"I'm going to count a hundred, and if we hear nothing by then I shallwalk on somewhere. It's so bitterly cold sitting still," said Mavis, whowas shivering.
She counted aloud, and at the end they gave a frantic shout. Not even abird rustled in reply. "Well here goes, there's nothing for it but aplunge," said Mavis. "I've not the glimmer of an idea which way totake."
"I shall follow my nose," said Merle, setting off.
"Don't go too fast or you'll lose me. Let me take hold of your arm. Wenever came this way, I'm sure. We certainly didn't pass a littlestream."
"Any way is better than no way," said Merle desperately. "Hello! whythere's the road!"
The relief at finding themselves back upon the track of civilization wasintense. They ran joyfully along, and in a few moments came upon UncleDavid, just screwing on his last nuts and whistling to himself quiteunconcernedly.
"Where have you two been?" he asked.
"Where!" answered Merle with dramatic unction. "Where? Why, getting lostlike the babes in the wood! We thought we were going to perish upon themoors and never see home again! We wandered on for _hours_. Didn't youhear us shouting?"
"Exactly twenty-five minutes," corrected Dr. Tremayne, consulting hiswatch. "No, I never heard you shout. I should have hooted if I had. Iwondered where you were. Better not run off too far another time. Well,I've mended this tyre, and been remarkably quick over it too, I think.I'm rather proud of myself. It's a record."
Feeling a little small, the girls got into the car. It was humiliatingthat Uncle David did not seem to realize their terrific adventure, andwas far more concerned over the tyre than over their possible loss anddeath from exposure and starvation.
"It's all the fault of the Devonshire pixies," whispered Mavis.
And Merle nodded emphatically.
"Rather! I consider we were absolutely and entirely pixie-led. I canalmost hear the little wretches laughing about it over there. I'll dofor them if I catch them! It's been a pixie day."
"Then for goodness sake do get out of bed to-morrow on the right side,"implored Mavis.