CHAPTER VI

  Reprisals

  After learning the story of the Lyngates estate, Avelyn's interest inPamela Reynolds was doubled, and she cultivated her acquaintance. Thetwo girls travelled together from Harlingden on Friday afternoons, andarranged to meet on Monday mornings to walk in company to the station.Though Pamela was not yet fourteen she was old for her age; heradventurous life in Canada had given her a mental outlook different fromthat of most English girls. She proved a lively and very pleasantcompanion. Mrs. Watson, to whom Avelyn confided her friend's story, paida call upon Mrs. Reynolds, and found her a timid, refined lady, ofgentle birth and breeding, greatly saddened with her troubles, andevidently without much initiative. The cottage, which had been lent toher by Mr. Hockheimer, was in a very out-of-the-way situation. It wassmall, inconvenient, and possessed many drawbacks, but she had made thesitting-room pretty with books and flowers, and the little home had acultured air about it. Mrs. Reynolds did not seem to wish to seek anysociety, and gently intimated that she feared she was not strong enoughto walk as far as the village and return calls.

  "The poor woman has simply sat down under her troubles," said Mrs.Watson, describing her experiences at the family supper-table. "It'seasy to see that she has no spirit. If she would take life more pluckilyit would be better for herself and everybody. I'm sorry for that child.To live in that quiet spot with such a depressed companion, especiallywhen by all rights they ought to have owned The Hall. It makes my bloodboil! Mr. Hockheimer ought to have done more for them than this."

  "Catch Mr. Hockheimer doing much for anybody!" commented Daphne. "Peoplesay he's the stingiest landlord. They grumble dreadfully. I think heought to have had Mrs. Reynolds and Pamela to live with him at TheHall."

  "Oh, Pamela would have just hated that!" put in Avelyn. "She simplycan't bear her uncle."

  "I don't blame her," sniffed Daphne.

  "Oh, Muvvie, couldn't we ask Pamela to tea?" said Avelyn. "It must be solonely for her up there, without any brothers and sisters. I believeshe'd love to come."

  "Well, we'll give her the chance at any rate," agreed Mrs. Watson. "Ihope her mother won't be stupid and refuse to let her come. I think I'dbetter send a formal invitation."

  The note was duly written and dispatched. Mrs. Reynolds appeared to needsome days to think the matter over, but finally sent a formalacceptance.

  "Hooray!" triumphed Daphne. "I quite expected she was going to declinewith thanks. Muvvie, how glad I am that you're a nice, sensible person,and not morbid! You'd have been such a trial to us if you'd always goneabout with an air of depressed resignation."

  "I've had my troubles as well as other people," said Mrs. Watson. "Itcertainly doesn't make them any better to mourn over them. We've got tosit up and make the best of things as they are. 'Never say die!' is agood old motto. I'd try to be chirpy and cheery if I were reduced to awooden leg and a glass eye!"

  "So you would, Muvvie darling! I believe you'd dance a jig with acrutch. But about Pamela----"

  "We'll give her a good time when she comes, poor child!"

  The warm-hearted Watsons were determined to make Pamela thoroughlywelcome, and they succeeded royally. She was painfully shy for the firstten minutes, and answered all questions in embarrassed monosyllables,but after a walk round the garden she began to thaw, by the end of teashe had waxed expansive, and later on she proved downright amusing. Bythe time the family, in a body, escorted her home, they felt that theyhad sealed a friendship. They talked her over on the way back.

  "She's sporty," decided David.

  "Decent as far as girls go," qualified Anthony, who at twelve did notyield readily to feminine attractions.

  "I call her charming," said Daphne. "You can see she's plenty inher--not one of those lackadaisical people like Ella Simpson, who justput on side. It seems to me a most monstrous thing that her uncle shouldhave been able to take all the property."

  "Collared the lot!" grunted David. "The old Hun!"

  "Mrs. Garside told me that everybody said Squire Reynolds must have madea later will--the butler and coachman remembered signing something. Butit couldn't be found."

  "Likely enough old Hockheimer suppressed it. He'd be equal to any dirtyGerman trick!" suggested Anthony.

  "If he has he deserves penal servitude."

  "I'd prefer shooting for him," said Anthony grimly.

  The Watsons liked Pamela for herself, but it certainly gave her an addedinterest to consider her the victim of her uncle's greed and injustice.They thoroughly detested Mr. Hockheimer. Since the morning when he hadturned them out of the wood they had owed him a grudge, and othermatters had accumulated to swell the account. His land, unfortunately,adjoined theirs. I have mentioned before that the little property ofWalden was shaped like a triangle, the apex of which jutted into Mr.Hockheimer's estate. This apex consisted of a piece of rather marshyrushy ground. The brook divided at its head, and flowing round it in twoseparate streams reunited, making the patch of meadow into an island,connected with the main land by a rough plank bridge. It was of littleservice from a farmer's point of view, but it was a most picturesquespot, and Mrs. Watson intended to turn it into a water garden. She andDaphne spent hours poring over Barr's catalogues, and deciding whatiris, forget-me-nots, ranunculi, and other marsh-loving plants theyshould send for, and whether it would be possible to dam a piece of thebrook to make a pool for water-lilies.

  Imagine their annoyance when one day they found their cherished islandin the occupation of Mr. Hockheimer's cows, which had walked down thestream from their own field. With great difficulty the Watsons drovethem back, and replaced the rather broken tree-trunk, which acted asbarrier, across the brook. When the same incident happened again Mrs.Watson complained, and requested Mr. Hockheimer to see that his cowskept to their own field. He replied by stating that they had always beenaccustomed to graze on the island, which was really a no-man'sterritory, not strictly included in either property, though, if thematter were to be investigated, it would probably be found to beincluded in the Lyngates estate.

  Much surprised, and angry at such an assertion, Mrs. Watson looked upthe plans of Walden which went with her title-deeds, and found theisland most certainly represented as her property. She called in theassistance of the village joiner, and caused a strong barrier to befixed across the stream at the head of the island, sufficient to keepout cows and make a landmark for the boundary of her territory fromthat of her acquisitive neighbour. This being done she considered thematter settled, and proceeded to plant her iris and forget-me-nots. Sheanticipated a beautiful show from them in the spring.

  Towards the end of October, Daphne, whose health had picked up withcountry air, nevertheless had to report herself to the specialist whohad previously examined her, and she and her mother made an expeditionto London. They started on a Thursday, and were to spend Sunday withfriends in town, returning home on the following Monday or Tuesday.Avelyn, David, and Anthony, together with Ethel, the maid, had theestablishment to themselves for the week-end. With her mother'spermission, Avelyn asked Pamela to spend the Saturday afternoon atWalden.

  The young folks were determined to have a thoroughly happy harum-scarumtime together, and, instead of taking a conventional tea in thedining-room, they carried their meal into the barn, and held a picnicfeast, sitting on blocks of wood, with the wheelbarrow for a table, andwith Billy, the dog, Meg, the cat, and Tiny, the bantam cock, asself-invited guests.

  "It's rather a stunt being all on our own for once!" opined Anthony,feeding Billy with crust, regardless of the rationing order.

  "Top-hole!" murmured Avelyn, pouring out milk for Meg into her saucer.

  "I wish something would happen!" said David, rocking himself airily toand fro on his billet of wood.

  "Something _will_ happen if you're not careful, old sport! You'll toppleover next minute!" warned Avelyn.

  "What do you want to happen?" asked Pamela.

  "Something exciting--an air raid, or a fire, or a burglary. Somethingrea
lly to give one spasms!"

  Pamela did not reply for a moment. She rested her head on her hand andthought. When she spoke there was an undercurrent of doubt in her voice.

  "I don't know whether I ought to tell you," she hesitated. "I'm notsupposed to know, only I happened to overhear. I don't care, I _shall_tell! He's only my uncle by marriage, and I detest him!"

  "Do you mean Mr. Hockheimer?" asked Avelyn, in a sudden flutter.

  "Yes; I wish I didn't!"

  "What about him?"

  Pamela hesitated again, then whispered:

  "He's coming here, just at dusk, with an axe and a saw."

  "What for?"

  The Watsons had clustered round, with faces full of horrifiedexpectancy.

  "To take down that barrier across the stream. He says the island's his."

  If the enemy had landed, the Watsons could not have been more astonishedand indignant. Their opinion of Mr. Hockheimer had been bad before, butthat he should take advantage of their mother's absence to perform suchan abominable and utterly illegal act made their blood boil.

  "There are two opinions about the island," declared David grimly. "Mr.Hockheimer will find he's not going to get things all his own way. Whattime did he say he was coming?"

  "Just at dusk."

  "All right! We'll be ready for him! Thanks ever so much for letting usknow. I say, Tony, come into the yard with me; I want to speak to you.I've got a brain wave!"

  "What's it about, Davie?" asked Avelyn excitedly.

  "I'll tell you afterwards, Ave."

  Out in the yard the two boys held a hasty confabulation. They felt thatthey must act quickly. It was their duty to protect their mother'sproperty from this Hun robber. The situation appealed to their boyishinstincts. David's eyes gleamed with a wrathful twinkle. Anthony's youngfists were tightly clenched. They laid a careful plan of campaign, thenstarted off to secure recruits. In ten minutes they returned from thevillage with three Boy Scouts, to whom they unfolded their designs. Theyhurried off at once to the island, to survey the scene of action. Thebarrier which Mrs. Watson had caused to be erected across the brook, wasconstructed of two stout poles with withies intertwined; the ends weresecured in the banks, and there was room for the water, even in flood,to flow underneath. On the Walden side of the stream were some largestepping-stones, which the joiners had placed for their conveniencewhen fixing the posts into the overhanging bank. David and Anthony, withtheir scout friends, took off boots and stockings, and after aconsiderable amount of shoving and splashing, managed to move away thesmall stones that supported these boulders, leaving them apparentlysafe, but in reality only lightly balanced in the brook. They had barelyfinished when twilight began to fall.

  "We'll clear out now!" commanded David. "He may come any minute, and Iwant him to be hard at work before we appear on the scenes. We'll catchhim red-handed."

  "And give him more than he expects!" chuckled Anthony.

  Going back to the house, the boys took Avelyn into their confidence.They felt that it would be mean to leave her out of such a thrillingadventure.

  "If you're game to come, you can," they allowed graciously. "It ought tobe a sporty job!"

  "Blossomy!" agreed Avelyn. "I wouldn't miss it for worlds. But whatabout Pamela? She'd enjoy it, of course, but her uncle would know she'dgiven the show away."

  "She must hide behind the bushes, and not let him see her. It'll betop-hole for Pamela!"

  The alders and clumps of furze were thick down by the stream, quitesufficient to give shelter to the little party of seven that presentlytook cover there. They preserved strict military discipline. Not a wordwas spoken. All crouched silently watching and waiting. The sun had set,and the red glow faded from the sky, but there was a young moon, andobjects were clear. David held Billy by the collar. He was a sportingdog, and trained not to bark; though he panted and his eyes bulged, hedid not betray the whereabouts of his owner by even the suspicion of ayelp. Early experience with a former master, addicted to poaching, hadtaught him his lesson.

  Just when the owls had wakened, and were beginning to hoot round thebarns, Mr. Hockheimer came striding down his field. He was annoyed withMrs. Watson for having put the barrier across the stream. There hadindeed been one in the days of the former tenant, but it hadconveniently tumbled into the water, leaving a pathway for his cows tograze on the island. He believed that by a little bluff and persistencehe could persuade Mrs. Watson that the island was part of his ownproperty. German-like, he had small opinion of women, and consideredthat a widow's substance would be an easy prey. He had decided to see tothe matter himself, instead of bringing his bailiff or his keeper withhim. Since the war began, his men had been apt to make themselves verydisagreeable over trifles, and it was not worth having a fuss about sosmall a business.

  He stood on the top of the crag and surveyed the barrier. How to get toit was the first question. It was fixed just where the stream ran in anarrow gully between two high banks. He mentally strafed the villagejoiner for having placed it in such an inaccessible spot. From his ownland it was practically impossible to reach it. The only thing to bedone was to go into Mrs. Watson's field. He had no scruples abouttrespassing, and taking his axe he hacked down some branches, andcleared himself a way through the hedge. It was comparatively easy nowto reach the barrier. There were stepping-stones obligingly left by theworkmen, which would be of great assistance to him. Saw and axe in handhe advanced upon them, quite unwitting that seven pairs of eyes (eightwith Billy's) were watching his movements from the shadow of the bushes.The first two stones were secure enough, and gave him confidence; thethird tottered a little, and he stepped hastily from it on to thefourth, only to find that it capsized altogether and landed him suddenlyon his back in the water. The stream was not deep enough to drown, butwas quite sufficient to immerse him. He splashed and floundered about,and rose wrathful and spluttering, to find five boy figures standing inthe field and grinning at his discomfiture.

  "Dear me, Mr. Hockheimer," said David, with feigned commiseration, "I'mafraid you're wet!"

  Mr. Hockheimer's remarks, being in German, were probably better nottranslated. He waded ashore and began to wring the water from hisclothes.

  "May I ask what you were doing?" continued David blandly.

  "A job that I mean to finish, you young rascal!" girned Mr. Hockheimergruffly.

  "Excuse me, but that fence is my mother's property, and if anybodyinterferes with it we're out here to protect it."

  "And I'm here to remove it!" roared the German. "Take yourselves off,you young chimpanzees!"

  "You forget it's our own field," continued David with icy politeness."It's we who must ask you to take yourself off. Oh, very well!" as theGerman made a threatening movement towards him, "Billy, will you giveMr. Hockheimer a hint to go?"

  Billy had been straining at his collar to suffocation point. Now,released and encouraged by his master, he flew, barking furiously, atthe intruder, and seized him by the leg of his wet trouser.

  Mr. Hockheimer yelled, freed himself by a kick, and, turning to see theangry dog ready to spring at him again, saved himself by suddenlyclimbing up an old willow stump that overhung the brook. He swarmed upwith an agility surprising in a man of his stout build. Wet and draggledfrom his dip in the stream, he cut a sorry figure clinging among thebranches, while Billy, mad with rage, jumped and yelped down below.

  "Call off that brute!" shouted the German hoarsely.

  "There's no hurry," answered David. "I want to talk to you a little, Mr.Hockheimer. It's a good opportunity while you're resting."

  "Call him off and let me go, you little villain!"

  "If you _will_ trespass in our field you must expect the dog to getexcited. It says in the Commination Service, 'Cursed is he thatremoveth his neighbour's landmark'. (Perhaps you don't go to Church onAsh Wednesdays?) Now, you were distinctly trying to remove my mother'slandmark, and if I let you go I may be compounding a felony. I've gotsome witnesses here, at any rate. What a gap you made in the
fence! Weshall have to make that up. Tony, old chap, keep guard for a while."

  "Right you are!" answered Anthony sturdily.

  Percy Houghton had brought his father's hedging-gloves and a billhook,so, leaving Anthony as sentry by the tree, David, with the aid of theboys, repaired the hedge. He whistled cheerily the while.

  Mr. Hockheimer was feeling far from cheerful. He was wet, cold, and in amost undignified position. Every time he ventured to let his leg down somuch as an inch the dog showed all his teeth in an ugly snarl. Theprospect of spending a much longer time perched in the tree was notpleasing. He judged it wiser to arrange terms.

  "Come, come, you've had your little joke," he expostulated in a mildertone. "Call your dog away, and I will go home."

  "Will you give me your solemn undertaking not to trespass on ourproperty again, or attempt to remove our landmarks?" demanded Davidgrandly.

  His victim grunted something which might be interpreted as assent.

  "Then we'll let you off this time. Tony, hold Billy! Shall I help youdown, Mr. Hockheimer? You're rather stiff, I expect."

  "I can manage myself," growled the German sulkily, as he descended witha thud.

  "We've made up the fence, so we shall have to let you out through ouryard," observed David. "By the by, you dropped a saw and an axe into thebrook. I'll fish them out to-morrow by daylight and throw them over intoyour field. I call that Christian charity. I might have commandeeredthem or let them stop in the stream and rust away. Dear me, you're_very_ wet! I hope you won't catch cold!"

  Mr. Hockheimer made no reply, but stumped after the boys up the fieldand through the stable-yard. David held the gate open for him mostcourteously, and he passed through into the road. Then he turned andshook his fist.

  "You shall pay for this some day!" he muttered. "I don't forget!"

  "Neither do I," returned David. "Good-night, Mr. Hockheimer!"

  As the boys came back round the side of the barn they met Avelyn andPamela, who had run up from the field. The two girls had kept hiddenamong the bushes, but had seen and heard most of what was going on.

  "You don't think he saw me?" asked Pamela. "I believe he'd kill me if heknew I'd told."

  "I don't believe he could possibly see you, not even from up in thetree. It was getting so dark," David assured her.

  "He has an awful temper!" shivered Pamela.

  "Oh, Dave, you did bait him!" said Avelyn with a chuckle. "I didn't knowyou could be so sarcastic. I nearly died trying not to laugh out loud.How did you think of it all?"

  "It came on the spur of the moment," admitted David modestly. "I'verather an idea I'd like to be a barrister when I grow up, if the war'sover."

  "I'd like to be a detective and snap the handcuffs on criminals,"declared Tony, giving Billy his last honey-drop as a reward of virtue.