CHAPTER SIX.
WHAT DOES THAT SERGEANT WANT?
"Humph!" grunted Uncle Paul, as they descended at last, to hear the firecrackling in the kitchen, and the bright old copper kettle singing itsmorning song.
It was a lovely morning, with the sweet scents of the garden and moorfloating in at the little parlour window, and as Uncle Paul took whathis irreverent nephew called a good long sniff, he slowly andostentatiously, moved thereto by the sight of the clean white cloth andthe breakfast things, hauled up his great gold watch and examined itsface.
"Twenty-five minutes, thirty-seven seconds, past six, Pickle. Ratherearly for breakfast. Well, I suppose we must take things as they are;but I am very, very sorry that they took away my old coat; it was agreat favourite. And those things of yours, sir, are much too good togo climbing about tors and wading in streams. I wish that Count hadknocked at my door like a gentleman and asked me, as he should. Heshould have had this suit instead. I'd a deal rather he had it than myold shooting jacket."
"Ha, ha!"
"What are you laughing at, sir?"
"Uncle Paul eating his words."
"What, sir?"
"You mean, uncle, that if Count de Saix had come and knocked at the doorand asked you to help him, you'd have called me up and sent me to theprison for the soldiers."
"Now look here, Rodney, that's impudence, sir, and--Ah! There's themicroscope, and the slides and the glasses. Have they been disturbed?"
"No, uncle. Just as we left them. I almost wonder they didn't carryoff all those hydras."
"_Hydrae_. Be careful about your Latin plurals. But look here, do youwant me to box your ears?"
"No, uncle."
"Then don't give me any more of your impertinent allusions. Hum--hum--hum! Half-past six. Very early for breakfast. But I begin to feel alittle _appetitlich_, as the Germans call it; don't you?"
"Oh no, uncle," said Rodd, very mildly. "You said last night that wehad eaten enough to last twenty-four hours."
"Now, look here, Rodney, you had the impudence to tell me a short timeago that I'd got out of bed the wrong way. I am afraid it's you, sir,that have done that, and if you don't take care we shall be having avery serious quarrel.--There! Run, quick! That kettle's boiling over."
But Rodd was half-way to the kitchen, and had snatched the kettle offbefore his uncle had finished speaking, warned of what was happening ashe had been by the first angry hiss.
"It's all right, uncle," he cried. "No harm done!"
"But what's become of that old woman? She ought to be here now, seeingabout our breakfast."
"Here she comes, uncle," and through the window they could see theirhostess hurrying back with a big basket from the direction of theneighbour's cottage, and the next minute they heard her setting her loadupon her white kitchen-table.
"Oh, I didn't know you were down, gentlemen," she cried, as she hurriedinto the parlour. "I have been over to my neighbour's to see if shecould help me now that I am in such a fix."
"Well, could she?" said Uncle Paul.
"Oh yes, sir. As luck had it, she was baking yesterday, and she hadplenty of butter and eggs, besides a small ham which had just beensmoked."
"Oh, come," said Uncle Paul, "we shall be able to keep you alive for afew days longer, Pickle; and I suppose you will soon be able to let ushave breakfast, Mrs Champernowne?"
"Oh yes, sir, very quickly. I shall only want time to fry the ham."
Uncle Paul gave an involuntary sniff, as if the aroma of the fragrantbrown had floated to his nostrils.
"But you can't tell, sir, how sorry I am that such a thing should havehappened to gentlemen staying in my house;" and the poor woman lookedappealingly to uncle and nephew, and back.
"Don't you say another word about it, madam," replied Uncle Paul. "Youmake us a nice clear cup of coffee to take away the taste of the night'sadventures."
"I will indeed, sir, and I won't say another word, only thank you fortaking it so patiently and, if I might make the observation, in such alamb-like way."
Rodd turned round very quickly, walked to the window, and began towhistle softly.
"I went over this morning to my neighbour's, sir, as you may see by thebasket."
"Yes, madam," said Uncle Paul, who was staring hard at his nephew's backand scratching one ear vigorously.
"I told her all about it, of course, sir, and her master was therehaving his breakfast before he went out peat-cutting, and if you'llbelieve me, sir, he did nothing but laugh, and said he knew it was theprisoners, sure enough, and he had the impudence to say that it was agreat blessing that they came to my cottage instead of to his, and luckyfor the prisoners too, for they'd got a better fit."
"Ah, yes, Mrs Champernowne," said Uncle Paul, pulling out his watch andfrowning very hard in its face; "but do you think your neighbour's hamwill be as good as yours?"
"Oh yes, sir--better, I expect, for it was a lovely little pig when itwas fatted up and killed last Christmas; one of those little fat,short-legged, dunkey ones with turn-up snouts. My husband used to saythey were the Chinese breed, and that was why the ham and bacon alwayswent so well with China tea. You may depend upon that ham, sir, beingbeautiful."
"Very singular fact, Mrs Champernowne," said Uncle Paul blandly. "Thenperhaps you wouldn't mind cutting the rashers a little thicker. I amrather ashamed of my nephew's appetite; but then you see he's only ahungry, growing boy."
Uncle Paul took out his watch again, and this time their landlady tookthe hint, and hurried into the kitchen, from which delicious odours soonbegan to escape, and in the midst of the examination upon thewindow-sill, where the bright sun lit up the lenses of the microscope,the magnified hydrae, with their buds and wondrous developments, wereset aside, to be superseded by the morning meal.
"Ah, yes," said Uncle Paul, thoroughly mollified now by MrsChampernowne's preparations, "there are worse disasters at sea, Pickle,and I'd worn that old coat off and on for a good many years."
"You couldn't have worn it off and on, uncle," said Rodd dryly.
"Look here, sir; if your mother, my dear sister, had had the slightestidea that you would have grown up into such an impertinent,two-edged-tongued young scrub, I don't believe she'd have died and leftyou in my charge. I suppose you meant that to be very witty, sir.Please understand that I was only speaking figuratively. Now we willjust spend about an hour over those specimens, and then, as it is sobeautiful and fine, we will be off on to the moor again. You will takeyour fishing-rod, of course?"
"Oh yes, uncle."
"Then turn up the bottoms of those trousers before we start."
"No, uncle; I shall put my leggings on over these," said Rodd coolly,"and I should advise you to do the same." Both Uncle Paul's ears seemedto twitch, and he scratched one as if it itched; but he said nothing,for just then Mrs Champernowne tapped at the door, to enter smiling,with a packet of letters.
"Postman, sir," she said, placing the letters upon the table. "Youwon't mind me speaking another word, sir?" she said.
"Oh no, Mrs Champernowne," said her visitor, rather gruffly. "What isit?"
"I think you told me, sir, that the prisoners did not take any of yourvaluables, your money, or anything of that sort?"
"No, Mrs Champernowne," cried Rodd eagerly. "They took uncle's money,but they left a lot of French napoleons instead."
Uncle Paul made a snatch at a very big blue letter, and darted a furiouslook at his nephew.
"I am very, _very, very_ glad, sir," cried Mrs Champernowne, "and, poorthings, they are to be pitied, after all."
She backed smilingly out of the room, and Uncle Paul held the big blueletter, which was doubly sealed with red wax, edgewise at his nephew, asif he were going to make a sword-cut at him.
"Now, look here, Rodney," he said; "it has been dawning upon me for along time past that I have indulged and spoiled you, with the resultthat you are growing into a most impertinent young rascal. Have thegoodness for the future,
sir, to allow me to speak for myself. When Irequire your conversational assistance, I will ask you for it."
"Yes, uncle, and--"
"Well, sir, what?"
"Aren't you going to open that big letter, uncle? I want to know what'sthe news."
"What is it to you, sir?" cried Uncle Paul, who had been opening a verykeen-looking, peculiarly-shaped, ivory-handled knife. "Have thegoodness to let my business be my business. I have a very great mind toput this letter,"--and as he spoke he carefully cut round theseals--"and the other missives away in my writing-case until I amalone--" Here Uncle Paul unfolded a letter upon the top of which wasstamped the Royal Arms, and smoothed it out upon the tablecloth--"andread it in peace, without being pestered by an impertinent boy. Blessmy heart! Why, Pickle, my boy! Hark here! It's a letter from theGovernment. Jump up and shout, you young dog! Hang Bony and all hisworks! It's all right at last."
"Why, what is it?" cried the boy excitedly, as his uncle went on eagerlyreading the bold round hand that formed the formal contents.
"Hark here! `His Majesty's advisers see their way to recommend that thelong-deferred grant for the sea-going natural history expedition to theWest Coast of Africa to be carried out by Dr Robson at his earliestconvenience be made, and that the grant to the full amount will be paidin to Dr Robson's bank as soon as formal application has beenreceived.' There, sir, what do you think of that? At last! At last!Pickle, my boy, they say that everything comes at last to the man whowaits, and here it is."
"Oh, Uncle Paul!" cried the boy, with sparkling eyes. "I am so glad--soglad!" And as he spoke he dashed at the reader, to catch him tightly bythe two sides of the collar of his coat.
"Mind my clean cravat, Pickle."
"Bother your clean cravat, uncle!" shouted the boy. "Look here, sir;you always promised me that if ever that money came and you went on thatexpedition, you'd play fair."
"What do you mean, sir, by your playing fair?"
"You said, uncle," cried the boy, sawing the collar he held to and fro,"that I should be very useful to you, and could help you no end over thenetting and dredging and bottling specimens, and that you'd take me withyou."
"Ah," cried Uncle Paul, "that was when you were a nice, good, obedientboy, and hadn't learnt to say sharp impertinent things, and didn't goabout setting free escaped prisoners and getting your uncle robbed."
"Gammon, uncle! I see through you, and--I say, what does that sergeantwant?" For there was the tramp of heavy feet, and the non-commissionedofficer who had been at the head of the squad of men they had met,marched past the cottage window.