CHAPTER VIII
Spring-heeled Jack
If David Watson had not been notoriously careless and forgetful, theevents which will be narrated in this chapter might never have happened.He was a bright boy, and well on in his form, but he had occasionallapses of memory. In one of these he left his Latin dictionary in thetrain. Now, if you are on the classical side of a large school, it isnot only a difficult but an impossible matter to get along without aLatin dictionary of your own. To attempt to prepare your work byborrowing your neighbour's book is like essaying to live on charity.David realized this point immediately, and, instead of proceeding homeas usual by the 4.45 train, he turned into the town instead. There was asecond-hand book-stall in the market, which he thought might be worth avisit. It had been recommended to him by one of the other boys, whoguaranteed the cheapness of its goods. Anthony, who stuck to David likea Jonathan, went to help him to look.
"I've just eighteen pence in my pocket," admitted David. "But I may getone at that. It needn't be a particularly spanky one. Miller got aripping atlas last week for one and two. He showed it to me. It only hadNorway and Sweden lost out, and a few of the maps blotted."
"I can lend you threepence," said Tony, "and you could leave your watchor your penknife or something, I suppose."
The market was a large covered hall, containing rows of stalls of allkinds. The boys heroically resisted the attractions of oranges,chestnuts, and sweets, and made for the second-hand books. A pile ofthese, all jumbled together, were marked:
BARGAINS. EDUCATIONAL, 1_s._ each.
David and Anthony began to turn them over and look at them. They werecertainly an assorted lot. There were ancient geographies and grammarsdating back fifty or sixty years, catechisms of Scripture or history,guides to knowledge, botanical questions, and even an odd volume or twoof sermons. A few of them were older still, and had long "S's" and calfbindings. Regarded as educational ammunition, they were as antiquated asflint-lock pistols. The boys rummaged among them for some time in vain,but, at last, almost from the bottom of the pile, they disinterred afairly respectable Latin dictionary. It had lost its back cover and itstitle page, but otherwise it seemed intact and clean. David took it tothe old man who presided over the stall, and tendered him a shilling. Heaccepted it with reluctance.
"Didn't know I'd let this slip in among the bargains," he grumbled."It's worth two and six if it's worth a penny. It came with a lot ofother books from a good house. Well, I suppose, as it was among theshillings, you'll have to have it. You may thank your luck I made amistake."
"A bargain's a bargain," said David, as he put the volume into hissatchel.
Trains to Netherton were not very frequent, and the boys had to waitsome time at the station. They sat down on one of the seats, and Davidopened his satchel and took out the Latin dictionary. He agreed with theold book-stall man that he had got it cheap, and felt decidedlysatisfied with his purchase. As he turned over the leaves, a letter fellout on to the platform. Anthony picked it up. It was a square envelopesealed with red wax, and addressed: "To my son, Leonard."
"Hallo," said Tony, "we've got hold of some chap's letter here!"
"Great Judkins! So we have!"
"Whom did the book belong to?"
David turned to the cover, and there, in rather faded ink, he foundwritten:
"George Reynolds, Parkhurst Academy, January, 1858."
He gave a long-drawn whistle.
"Here's a bit of stunt," he said. "Shouldn't mind guessing it belongedto old Squire Reynolds."
"Pamela's grandfather?"
"You bet!"
"Was his name 'George'?"
"So Ave said. And Pam's father's name was Leonard."
"Then the letter was for him?"
"I suppose it was--only he's dead."
"What'll you do with it, then?"
"Give it to Pamela."
"What do you think's inside it?"
"Don't I wish I knew!"
"Suppose it's a will?"
"Exactly my brain wave. Wouldn't it be priceless if it left everythingto Pamela?"
"And turned old Hockheimer out of The Hall? Rather!"
"One never knows. I'll put it in my pocket, and give it to Pam to-morrowmorning."
The Watson boys sometimes overtook Pamela on the road to the station,and every day they travelled by the same train to Harlingden. They madea point of meeting her next morning, and David handed her the envelope,explaining how it came into his possession.
"I suppose you couldn't open it and see what's inside?" suggestedAnthony.
Pamela looked doubtfully at the seal.
"I think I ought to give it to Mother," she said. "I expect she'll showit to me."
"Don't let that precious uncle of yours get hold of it, that's all!"warned David.
"No, indeed! I'll be careful."
"You'll tell us what it's about, won't you?" begged Tony the curious.
"If Mother will let me."
"Some day, perhaps, you'll be mistress of Lyngates Hall."
"No such luck!" declared Pamela bitterly.
Though she might disclaim any expectation of good fortune, theremembrance of the letter nevertheless haunted Pamela all day long. Shekept feeling in her pocket to see that it was safe. In spite of herself,bright fairy dreams floated through her mind, and mixed themselves upwith her lessons. Miss Peters had to tell her twice to pay attention.She missed the explanation of a problem while she imagined herselfliving at The Hall and riding a white pony, and got utterly wrong ingeology through planning how her mother should go up to London and buynew clothes.
Dream castles are the most delightful of possessions. We build themaccording to our own pattern, and live in them as our fancy pleases us.Those more sober dwellings that fate sends us are never half sobeautiful, though we generally have to put up with them. The day seemedlonger than usual to Pamela. She hurried off at four o'clock, though hertrain did not start till 4.45, and she only had to wait at the station.She did not happen to see the Watson boys, for they ran up so late thatthey had to jump into the guard's van, and at Netherton they went intothe booking office to enquire about a lost parcel.
Pamela walked home at a good pace, though the road was all uphill. MossCottage, the little place which had been lent by Mr. Hockheimer to Mrs.Reynolds, was not a particularly attractive residence. It was ratherdark and damp, and much shaded by trees. It had no beautiful view, suchas there was at Walden. Its front windows faced the road, and the lightwas obstructed by a large "monkey-puzzle". Poor Mrs. Reynolds had madeeverything look as nice as she could, and was busying herself in tryingto get the neglected garden back into a state of cultivation. She wasburning weeds when her daughter arrived. Pamela opened the door andentered the sitting-room, where the table was ready spread for tea. Shetook the precious letter from her pocket, and smiling with pleasantanticipation, put it upon her mother's plate. She would tell her allabout it at tea-time, over the bread and jam. Smelling the burningweeds, she ran into the garden. Mrs. Reynolds paused in her occupationof forking fresh fuel on to the bonfire.
"Is that you, child? Then I'll go in and make the tea. How the eveningsare closing in! It will soon be dark when you get home. I wish you couldbe a weekly boarder at school like Avelyn Watson."
"I don't! I'd far rather come back to you every evening, Mummie."
"I can't let you walk back from the station alone in the dark. I shallsoon have to begin to come and meet you in the afternoons."
"Oh, Mummie, it's too far for you! I don't in the least mind walkingalone. Shall I go and shut up the fowls now, or have you done it?"
"Not yet; so you may run and shut them up while I make the tea."
"You'll find a big surprise on the table, Mummie darling. Don't touch ittill I come, will you? I'll tell you all about it at tea."
"Very well," smiled Mrs. Reynolds, who was used to Pamela's littlesurprises.
She was in the act of pouring on the boiling water when there was a rapat the door, and her
brother-in-law entered. Mr. Hockheimer generallyadmitted himself in this fashion, without waiting for the door to beanswered--a lack of courtesy which invariably annoyed Mrs. Reynolds.
"I was passing, so I came for that parcel I left the other day," heexplained. "You put it by in the cupboard, didn't you? Yes, there it is.I'll take it with me. By the by, have you any paraffin to spare? Ihappen to want a little."
"I have some in the shed outside."
"Can you give me some in a bottle?"
"Yes, I'll go and fetch it."
Mrs. Reynolds placed the teapot to keep hot on the hob and left theroom. Mr. Hockheimer came over to the fire, and stood warming his backand humming snatches from an opera. Presently his eye caught the letteron the table. He picked it up, looked narrowly at the handwriting,turned it over and examined the seal. Then he thought for a moment withnarrowed eyes. Finally he slipped the envelope into his breast pocket,and, catching up his parcel, made his way outside to the shed.
"Is that bottle of paraffin ready?" he shouted. "I'm in a hurry, andcan't stay."
"It's here. I was just looking for a piece of paper to wrap it in,"replied Mrs. Reynolds. "Won't you stop for tea?"
"Haven't the time to-day. Never mind any paper, I don't want to wait.The bottle will do well enough in my pocket. I must be off now.Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!" returned his sister-in-law, rather relieved at the shortnessof his visit. She washed her hands after pouring out the paraffin, andcame into the sitting-room, Pamela, who had been tidying herselfupstairs, entering at the same moment.
"I'm glad we've got rid of Uncle!" smiled the latter. "I heard hisvoice, and kept out of the way."
"Naughty child!"
"Well, Mummie, I can't help it. You know I don't like him. I don't careif we are dependent on him; what I feel is, that we oughtn't to be.There, I won't upset you by talking of him. I've something else I wantto tell you. Why, where's the letter?"
"What letter?"
"The letter that I put on your plate. Mummie, what have you done withit?"
There was an agony of apprehension in Pamela's voice.
"I haven't seen it, dear," replied Mrs. Reynolds. "Why, yes, I remembernow I did notice a letter lying on the plate when I was making the tea.I was just going to look at it when your uncle came in. It's certainlynot there now."
Two red spots mounted to Pamela's cheeks, and her eyes blazed sparks.
"This is just about the limit!" she exploded. "There's not the leastshadow of a doubt! Uncle Fritz has stolen that letter!"
While these events were taking place at Moss Cottage, David and AnthonyWatson were walking home from the station. They had lingered at thebooking office, and had loitered on the platform to talk to somefriends, and, when they finally made a start, they determined to take apath through the woods instead of keeping to the high road. There weretwo motives for this decision. In the first place, the woods belonged tothe Lyngates estate, and, though the public had an old-established rightof way, Mr. Hockheimer objected greatly to the foot-path being used, andhad several times vainly tried to close it. The boys felt that theywould cheerfully go out of their way to annoy Mr. Hockheimer. Theyalmost hoped they might meet him, and, in imagination, stood firmly onthe path, discussing the legal aspect of the matter, and quoting theancient county map as their authority.
There was, however, another reason which led them from the high road.During the last few days a curious and persistent rumour had circulatedin the neighbourhood as to a "something" that had appeared in the woods.Whether supernatural or physical nobody knew, but several peoplevouched for having seen it. Their stories, allowing a natural margin forexaggeration, tallied wonderfully. The apparition wore dark clothes anda black mask, and, instead of walking, careered along in a series ofmighty leaps and bounds. Owing to this extraordinary mode ofprogression, it had been nicknamed "Spring-heeled Jack", and itsappearance had excited considerable terror. It was reported to be abroadat dusk, and to haunt the more lonely portions of the woods.
David and Anthony, having a thorough boyish love of adventure, thirstedto get a sight of this mysterious personage. They climbed the hill overthe quarry, therefore, and struck up through the woods, keeping at firstto the foot-path, but they encountered nobody, not even Mr. Hockheimer.When you are out for excitement, it is disappointing to have a perfectlytame and uneventful walk. In the thickest part of the wood they pausedwith one consent.
"It's all bunkum about the trespassing! Let's go and explore!" temptedDavid.
"Right you are!" agreed Anthony, succumbing as readily as Eve yielded tothe serpent.
It was a most interesting wood, with tall trees and smooth glades. Itundulated, and held crags here and there, so that you could never quitesee where you were going. The ground was strewn with acorns and beechmast and horse-chestnuts, quite worth picking up. The boys wandered forsome little time, enjoying themselves immensely. They had no idea inwhat direction they were going till they found themselves on the crestof the hill. Behind them was the wood, but in front was a range of opencountry looking towards the sea. They were standing on a platform ofrock, which shelved sharply down to a patch of gorse and heather.
"Jolly view here----" began Anthony, but stopped with his sentenceunfinished, for David suddenly gripped his arm and forced him on hisknees behind a bush. Somebody was walking at the foot of the rock, andone brief glimpse had been sufficient to identify the plump figure andblond moustache of their arch-enemy, Mr. Hockheimer. It would never dofor him to catch them so far from the foot-path. He might wish to settleup scores with them. They remembered the gleam in his eye when he hadshaken his fist and said he would not forget. If they waited quietly hewould probably go, and then they would hurry back to the path.
But instead of going he waited, humming a tune. He was musical and fondof operatic airs. There were other sounds, too, which the boys could notunderstand. They grew curious and wanted to know what he was doing. Theydared not speak, but, agreeing by signs, they both crawled verycautiously to the edge of the rock, and, concealed by some branches,peeped over.
Mr. Hockheimer was exactly below them. He was kneeling on the grass, andhad evidently just untied a parcel. A large bicycle lamp lay on thepaper. In his hand he held a bottle, with the contents of which heproceeded to fill the lamp. He felt in his pocket for matches, lightedit, and placed it on a ledge of the rock. The dusk was falling fast, andits glow shone brightly. From its position on the crest of the hill itwould be visible over miles of country, probably right out to sea. Mr.Hockheimer hummed in a satisfied voice, as if he were pleased withhimself. He presently lighted a cigar; the fragrant smoke rose upwardsto the boys' nostrils. They could see him with extreme plainness, andindeed could follow his every movement. He fumbled again in his pocketand drew out an envelope, holding it in the glow of the lamp so as toinspect it. David and Anthony gasped, for they recognized in a momentthe letter which they had given to Pamela only that morning. How had shebeen so foolish as to allow her uncle to get hold of it? they askedthemselves. They were full of wrath at her stupidity. Mr. Hockheimerturned over the envelope several times; he looked at the handwriting andsurveyed the seal, then he deliberately tore it open. He drew out apiece of note-paper and began to read it. The boys, peering through thebrambles above, watched him narrowly, though they could not see thedocument well enough to decipher it. Its contents seemed to disturb Mr.Hockheimer. He said several untranslatable things in the German tongue.Then he brought out his smart little silver box, hesitated, and struck amatch. The boys were in an agony of mind. He simply must not be allowedto burn the paper. Sooner than that they would drop from the crag andtry to rescue it.
The wind had risen and blew out the match. For a moment they breathedagain, but it was only a temporary respite, for he immediately struckanother. He shaded it carefully this time, and, taking the paper,applied the corner to the flame.
At that same moment a terrific and unearthly yell sounded in the woodabove. Mr. Hockheimer started and turned, dropping blazing
letter andmatch to the ground. There was a rustle among the bushes, and with anenormous bound a dark figure sprang sheer from the rocks on to theplatform of grass, made a grab at the paper, seized it, put out thefire, and leaped away with it into the gathering dusk of the undergrowthbelow.
It happened with such extraordinary rapidity and suddenness that it wasall over in a flash, and the boys only caught a glimpse of a black mask,and two long legs that hopped with the agility of a spider-monkey.Considerably scared, they crept back from their position of vantage,and, rushing through the darkening wood, managed to regain the pathway.It was not till they had finally crossed the stile and got into the highroad that they began to compare notes.
"Well! We've seen it!" ejaculated David meaningly.
"What is it?" whispered Anthony in awestruck tones. "Teddy Jones saysit's Old Nick himself. It was terrible when it yelled!"
"Those legs were human," maintained David. "I can't guess who it is, orhow he manages to jump like that, but I bet he's not a spook."
Anthony, who inclined to the supernatural theory of the apparition,shook his head doubtfully.
"Spook or not, he's no friend to old Hockheimer," added David.
"He's taken the letter--what was left of it."
"Only a bit was burnt."
"I wonder what was in it?"
"Something that Hun wanted safely out of the way."
"It must be Squire Reynolds's will!"
"Well, Spring-heeled Jack's got it, at any rate, and whether he'll everturn it up again is the question. If we could find out who he is wemight get on the track of it."
"We'll try, for Pamela's sake--though she's a bally idiot to let heruncle take that letter!"
"It strikes me we've got on the track of something else to-night,"continued David. "Did you notice that lamp?"
"Yes, I did."
"And where he stuck it?"
"Rather!"
"The light would shine right out to sea."
"And aeroplanes could see it too, from there."
"I've always suspected old Hockheimer. He ought to have been internedlong ago. I can't think why they let him be at large. The Government'svery lax with these Germans. If I were in Parliament I'd clear out thewhole set of them."
Anthony drew a long breath.
"We must watch him. Don't say too much to Pamela, in case the sillygoose blabs. Shall we tell her what we've seen to-night?"
"On the whole I think we'd better not. She hates him, and yet perhapsshe might not altogether want to get him into trouble. We'll gocautiously, and hunt about, and see what more we can find out."
For a few days the boys purposely avoided Pamela, and she, on her part,did not seek speech with them. She was intensely chagrined at the lossof the letter, and did not like to acknowledge the humiliating fact tothem. She searched everywhere in the cottage, in case the wind mighthave blown it from the table on to the floor, but it was notforthcoming. Her mother vetoed the suggestion that Mr. Hockheimer hadtaken it.
"Surely, dear, he would never be so dishonourable! You must have put itsomewhere yourself."
"But, Mummie, I know I didn't. And you said yourself that you saw it onthe table."
"It's very mysterious," sighed Mrs. Reynolds. "We might ask your unclenext time he comes if he took it by mistake."
"He'd only deny it."
"Pamela, you misjudge him."
"I hate him, Mummie; he bullies us both."
"We're entirely dependent on him, remember. He gives us the whole of ourlittle income, and pays your school bills. We mustn't quarrel with ourbread and butter. What should we do if he were to turn us out?"
"I don't know. I sometimes think I'd rather be a crossing-sweeper thantake his money. Oh, life's horrid, and I hate it all! I wish we'd stayedin Canada, and never come to England. Wait till I'm a little older,Mummie, and I'll get a post as teacher, and work for you. I wish I weretwenty-one!"
"That's many years off, child, and in the meantime you've to get youreducation. You must be civil to your uncle, Pamela."
"I will, on the outside, but I can't help my feelings inside. They'reboiling!" demurred Pamela, rather defiantly, scrubbing the corners ofher eyes with her handkerchief, and settling down to her lesson books.