Born to Wander: A Boy's Book of Nomadic Adventures
rest, and tocull the wild flowers that grew everywhere in glorious luxuriance.
Little toddling children ran from cottage doors and waved their caps andcheered them, and called them show gipsies, and all sorts of funnynames. Sometimes they stopped at these houses to get water for Don andOssian; then the bairnies came all in a crowd, holding out tiny palms tohave their fortunes told.
Effie, in her saucy little straw hat, and her long cloak of crimson, didnot look at all unlike a real Romany. She always told good fortunes.The boys were to grow up into bold, brave, good men, and go and fightfor their king and country, and come back with hats and plumes on theirheads, stars on their manly breasts, spurs on their heels, and greatswords jangling at their sides. The girls were to grow up good and kindand truthful, and some were to marry princes, who would come riding forthem on white palfreys with scarlet trappings and manes and tails thattouched the ground. Some were to marry great warriors, and others wouldhave to be content to wed with honest John Ploughman, or perhaps tomarry the miller.
Effie was the house-provider, and often wanted to buy eggs and butterand bread and milk, and she was very much, astonished at the kindness ofall these cottagers, for none of them could be prevailed upon to acceptany money.
"Bless the dear wee innocent," a woman would say, "so far away from itsmammie. I won't have this money."
"Isn't she wise-looking?" another would add.
"Just like a wee witchie."
Thus on and on and on went these amateur gipsies for a whole week, and Ido not know really which enjoyed this strange wandering tour the most,Leonard, Effie, Ossian, or Don.
But it was not all humble folks they came across, though nearly all; forthe fact is they avoided big houses. Leonard said he wanted to minglewith the people. And so they did; but once, and once only, two ladiescame up to them in a wood just as they were harnessing up, and about tostart on the afternoon journey.
Effie had made all the outside front of the caravan quite gay with wildflowers, and a great garland of primroses, ivy, and wild hyacinths, andwas tying it round Don's neck, when the ladies alighted from theirhorses, and came to speak to her.
"You are not an ordinary gipsy child, I know," said one. Effie onlyopened her blue eyes wider, and looked at the lady, who was young andmost pleasant to behold.
But Leonard lifted his hat, and replied boldly,--
"_We_ are wanderers, lady."
"How romantic! Is this little Red Riding-Hood? How beautiful she is!How my father would like to see her! Could you ride on my horse, dear,and come to the Hall with me?"
"No, thank you," said Effie. "I would not ride without a habit."
"Quite right, dear," said the other lady, laughing.
"But," said Effie, afraid she had spoken unkindly, "if we come to theHall, we must all come."
"Delightful! And my brother shall paint you. Is this the wolf?"
"That is Ossian, my father's deerhound."
"What a noble fellow! Where does your father live, and what are yournames?"
Leonard lifted his hat again. "Pardon me, lady," he said, "for replyinginstead of my sister. Father lives in London, at present. My name isIncognitus, and my sister's name Incognita. My sister has alreadyintroduced you to the dog, permit me to introduce you to the donkey.His name is Don."
The young ladies pouted, and looked half-inclined to be cross, butfinally laughed such a pleasant, merry, ringing laugh, that Don prickedup his ears, and joined in with such a terrible lion-like roar, that thevery hills rang for a mile around. It was not often that Don did giveway to a fit of merriment, but when he did nobody else was able to getin a word until the strength of his lungs was quite exhausted.
He stopped presently, and helped himself to a fresh green thistle thatwas growing handy.
Meanwhile Ossian jumped up and kissed one of the ladies, as much as tosay,--
"Don't be afraid, Don often makes that row. He is only an ass, youknow, but there isn't a bit of harm in the whole of his body."
"Come on then, my dears. Why, Lily, this is quite an adventure. What aprovidence it was that we rode in this direction! I would not havemissed such an adventure for anything I can think of."
Book 1--CHAPTER SIX.
IN A SMUGGLER'S CAVE.
"But now we go, See, see we go, To the deepest caves below."
Dibdin.
Scene: The interior of a cave on a lonely hillside; a huge fire of woodand peat is burning in a kind of recess hewn from the solid rock. Alarge cauldron is boiling over it, and the smoke and flames are roaringup the chimney. Wild-looking men, unkempt and unshorn, are eating anddrinking on stone benches around the cave. There is a big oil lamphanging from the roof, and that and the firelight shed a dim uncertainlight throughout the cave.
"And so," said one of the men, who appeared to be captain of this gangof smugglers, "Captain Bland and his fellows have promised to be hereto-night."
"That is what he told me," said another. "The lugger has been dodgingoff and on the coast for days, and there is a sloop all ready down atthe steps near St. Abb's waiting to take the stuff off."
"Well," said the first speaker, "it is long past midnight, and as darkas pitch. No bothering moon to-night to interfere with the work. Weshould turn a pretty penny by this cargo. Ha! ha!" he laughed, "youScotchmen didn't know how to work the oracle on this hillside till weSaxons crossed the border and showed you. Scotchmen are--"
Five men sprang to their feet in a moment, and dirks were flashing inthe lamplight.
"Hold, you scoundrels, hold!" cried a tall and handsome man in the garbof a sailor, rushing into the cave, and throwing himself, sword in hand,between the belligerents.
"What!" he continued, "quarrelling when we should be busy at work. Icame in good time, it seems."
The Scotchmen sheathed their dirks, but sulkily.
"Right, Captain Bland," said Rob McLure, "only Long Bill there thoughtfit to insult us wi' his Saxon brag. We had the cave afore him, and didweel in it, and we're independent yet, and fit to clear the Englishbodies out o' the country, tho' we're but five and they are two to one--ay, and give their bodies to the corbies to pick."
"Bill," said Captain Bland, "you began this unseemly squabble; it is foryou to apologise."
"I do so heartily," said Bill; "I bear no grudge against the Scotch."
"Nor I, nor I, nor I," cried half-a-dozen voices. Then hands wereshaken all round, and peace restored.
Bland pitched down his cap--long black ringlets floating over hisshoulder as he did so--and sank into a seat, as if weary.
"Give me food and drink; the long walk has quite tired me. YourScottish hills, McLure, are hard on Saxon legs. By the way," he added,"two of my fellows are outside, and they've caught a couple of gipsycreatures; they may or may not be spies. Bring them in, the little onesmay be cold and hungry."
In a minute more Leonard and poor Effie stood trembling before thesmuggler chief.
We left them about three days ago in a lovely wood, with the greenery oftrees, the song of birds, sunshine, and flowers all around them. Theyhad gone to the Hall, as the young ladies called their home, and hadcreated quite a sensation.
There was such an air of romance about the whole affair that everybodyat the great house was charmed with them. Leonard and Effie were thehero and heroine of that evening, at all events, while Ossian madehimself quite at home on the hearthrug, very much to the disgust of abeautiful Persian cat, whose place he had coolly usurped.
The young ladies again cross-questioned the little wanderers, in theprettiest and most insinuating way possible, but succeeded in obtainingno further information. But Effie read their fortunes without havingher hand crossed with either gold or silver. No prince ongaily-caparisoned palfrey was to come riding to the Hall to beg for thehand of either, nor soldiers with sword and spear and nodding plumescome riding their way. Effie disposed of both in quite a humdrumfashion, which, although it did not please the young ladies, set
everyone in the room laughing at their expense. Their future spouses wouldbe celebrated rather for negative than positive virtues.
"For neither would be guilty of any great crime, Such as murder, rebellion, or arson; _One_ lady would wed with a wealthy old squire, And the other would marry the parson."
Leonard and Effie left the Hall that night, and a powdered servantcarried a hamper to the caravan. Both insisted on bidding their kindlyentertainers good-bye that night, saying it was certain they would beoff very early next morning.
And so they were, long before a single wreath of smoke had begun toup-curl from even the kitchen chimneys of the great Hall.
The weather had continued fine, and although the nights were very