A SUDDEN FLIGHT.
"Little robin redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;
Down came pussy-cat, and away robin ran;
Says little robin redbreast, 'Catch me if you can.'
"Little robin redbreast flew upon a wall,
Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall.
Little robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?
Pussy-cat said 'Mew,' and robin flew away."
Meanwhile time was passing: morning had slipped on to afternoon. Moll would not stay inside the caravan all day, and Joe might be back at any moment.
"And now that you know where your Happy Land actually lies, don't you think we'd better make tracks for it as soon as we can?" said Bambo at length, speaking out of the silence that had fallen over the group. For both Darby and Bambo had been thinking, and Joan was asleep, with her head resting against the dwarf's shoulder.
"Why do you say 'we'? Are you going to come with us?" asked Darby, in great delight. "Oh, how kind you are! But won't you be very tired walking all that long way to Firgrove and back again, and your cough so troublesome?" he inquired with concern.
"I won't want to come back again, sonny. I've been intending to leave Joe and Moll for a good while past. I always put off and put off. Having no friends to go to, and there being nothing else I could fall back upon for a living, I suppose I was timid about making a change. Now I can see God's hand in it. He kept me on with the Harrises because He had something He wants poor Bambo to do before he dies. If only I can hold out until I deliver you and little missy safe into the care of your friends, that's all I'll ask. My work will then be done; I'll be ready for the call whenever the messenger comes."
"How? what do you mean?" asked Darby, in an eager whisper, for he was frightened—awed, rather—he knew not why, by the look on the dwarf's face.
"Because, deary, Bambo's soon going home—home to the dear Lord Jesus, whose love has made the world a happy land for the poor, despised, misshapen dwarf since first I sought and found Him waiting and willing to claim and receive me—me—even me, for His own."
The ready tears coursed quickly down Darby's cheeks, but he remained silent. He did not know rightly what he ought to say, and, guided by the inimitable tact, the heaven-born wisdom of childhood, said simply nothing.
"Whish! here's Moll," spoke Bambo, in a warning undertone. "Don't let on to her what we've been talking about. Better not say anything to missy, either; but the very first chance we get we'll give them the slip—see if we won't! Don't fret, sonny," he added, giving Darby's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just you leave things to me, and never fear, for God will certainly set us free."
Almost directly Joe and Tonio returned. Joe was ravenously hungry and extremely cross because they had come back empty-handed, and Joe did not like that. He had an odd and occasionally inconvenient knack of picking up something—no matter what—wherever he went. This talent of his was well known among his friends, and had gained for him the nickname before mentioned of Thieving Joe, a title of which he was actually proud, until—But better not anticipate.
To-day, however, Joe had picked up nothing. Not a bird had they seen worth the waste of powder and shot; not a rabbit had even so much as sniffed in the direction of the snares. Joe was disappointed and out of temper in consequence, and flinging down his gun, and administering a cuff to the long-suffering Tonio, he roared for Bambo to bring him his dinner, in a voice which awoke Joan bolt upright from her sleep, and set Darby to shake and shiver down to the very soles of his shoes.
When the savoury meal which the dwarf had so carefully prepared was disposed of, Mr. Harris lay down beside the fire to rest after the fatigues of the morning. There he slept until twilight was stealing over the common, and within the belt of fir trees darkness and gloom peopled the spaces with shadows, and filled the air with that silence which speaks in no known language, yet with many voices. And again, as on the previous night, soon the encampment was in the bustle of removal. Bruno and Puck were shoved into their cages, the horses harnessed and yoked to the caravan, Darby and Joan carefully hidden away inside under Moll's guardianship, and the party were on the move once more.
They were not going far, only to the outskirts of Barchester, the big, busy, noisy town whose tall chimneys rose through the smoke-laden atmosphere which hung so dark and heavy above their belching mouths. Barchester was about eight miles off going by the less direct road along which they would travel in order to elude pursuit. There they would halt for the night, awaiting the proprietor's orders for the morrow.
The black boy capered alongside the caravan, aiming stones at the sparrows hunched up on the leafless branches of the hedges, or chasing the shy young rabbits that scuttered frightened to their burrows in the mossy bank by the roadside, as the piebalds plodded sedately on their monotonous way. The bear snarled behind his iron bars, the children crouched silently in a corner of the caravan, while Joe and Moll smoked and lounged, and discussed their plans concerning their captives and the company generally during the approaching winter. Bambo occupied his accustomed perch above the horses; and through the badly-fitted squares of glass in front, which by no stretch of politeness could truthfully be styled windows, the hum of their voices and the meaning of their words reached distinctly and sharply his ears and brain.
"I say, Moll, are you mindin' that our term o' the van's about up?" asked Joe, after some minor matters had been talked over. "We'll give the bloomin' old shay back at the end o' the time, an' I don't think as you an' me'll ever ride in it again, my woman! We ought to be able to do better for ourselves than travel the country like this afore another summer comes roun'."
"I'm sure I hope so, for I'm gettin' kind o' tired o' bein' cooped up in a box like a rabbit in a trap," answered Moll sulkily.
"We'll go to lodgin's for the winter," Joe went on, taking no notice of her surly mood; "jest a couple o' rooms, wi' a corner in an outhouse where we can keep the bear. Bambo an' Bruno, wi' the little un on his back fixed up in tinsel an' spangles, an' her yeller curls flyin', ought to bring home a tidy penny every night—a heap o' coppers, I tell you! Tonio will take to the hurdy-gurdy again; him an' Puck should win money too. An' as for you," he continued, "you can make yer livin' any day by yer black eyes an' slippery tongue. My, Moll, you are a cute un, an' no mistake!"
"Come, give over yer palaver, for I'm not wantin' it," said Moll roughly, yet not ill pleased at her husband's judicious tribute to her smartness and her charms. "It's all very fine—you have everythin' nicely fixed up accordin' to yer own notion," she continued mockingly; "but I'd like to know where you come in? What are you goin' to do?" she demanded angrily. "Nothin', I expect. Play the fine gentleman an' live upon what the rest o' us earns. Not if I knows it, Joe Harris," said Moll harshly, with a vicious snap of her strong white teeth.
"Now, now, you mustn't turn rusty, Mrs. Harris, my dear; it don't suit yer style o' beauty. I'm not goin' to be either idle or extravagant. I'm goin' to work hard an' train them kids to work for us. There's money in them, I tell you, especially the boy, an' see if Joe Harris can't draw it out o' him! He'll be a bit stubborn at first, maybe, but we'll soon cure him o' that," added the man savagely. "An' min' you promised to help me, Moll! You're surely not forgettin' the bargain we made? You were to stan' by me wi' the brats, an' I was to give you the silk gownd an' the glitters—eh, my lass?"
"I'm not sure if I want yer silk gownd nor yer glitters, Joe Harris," answered his wife moodily. "It ud be dirty money that ud buy them. I don't like this business, I tell you agin, as I telled you afore, an' there'll no good come o't. Let the little uns go, Joe," she urged in pleading tones. "For all that you purtend the other way, you know well that there's folks breakin' their hearts about them somewhere. Sen' the dwarf back wi' them to Firdale; they'll know their own way from there. An' as for Bambo—why, if he never turns up agin he'll be no loss. He's dyin'; you can see that wi' half an eye. His cough's 'nuff to give a body the shivers."
"Are you mad, woman, that you bid me throw away the best chance ever I had? An' the dwarf too! Why, do you want to ruin us all at one sweep?" growled Joe furiously.
"I don't want to ruin you, an' well you knows it," said Moll soothingly; "but I'm kin' o' tired o' livin' from day to day in dread o' you bein' followed an' took up an' put in prison. For it'll come to that, or worse, Joe, mark my words!" she added oracularly. "'The fox runs long, but he's caught at last,'" she quoted solemnly, "an' I never felt so downright sure o't afore. I think it's the look o' them children's eyes, the little lass in partik'ler," added the woman, remembering with a queer thrill at her heart Joan's kneeling baby form, the folded hands, the lisping prayer, the unexpected kiss. "She makes me wish I was a better woman," said Moll in a broken voice, softly sobbing the while.
Joe made no reply whatever. Possibly he was so vastly astonished at his wife's strange mood that his usual ready flow of forcible argument for once had failed him.
"Won't you let them go, Joe? do ee now," Moll resumed, in her most persuasive tones. "An' when you return the van, send Tonio off on his own hook too; the lad eats more'n he earns. An' sell Bruno; he's a vicious brute—nothin' but an encumbrance. You couldn't do much wi' him anyhow, once Bambo's out o' the road. The beast has a grudge agin you, for the way you whip him, I expect. He'll do you an injury one o' these days if you don't have a care! Then when we've only ourselves to think o', you an' me'll make a nice, comfortable livin' easy—you an' me, an' Puck an' the organ, wi' no fear o' the beaks or the jyle, or—or—anythin'. My! it makes me young agin thinkin' o' the fine times we'd have."
"Shut up, will you?" roared Mr. Harris, with a savage stamp of his huge foot, which set Bruno to growl ominously, and all the pots and pans slung around the van to jingle in unison.
After a moment Moll spoke.
"You bid me shut up," she said, with an angry jangle in her naturally soft, full tones. "All right, I will, Joe Harris; but when the time comes—as come it shall—that you're sorry you didn't listen to me, don't look to Moll for pity. There, them's my last words."
Then a sullen silence fell upon the pair; but by the time the caravan had reached its destination they were chatting as harmoniously as if no difference of opinion had ever arisen to disturb their peace.
The horses were again unyoked, the bear dragged from its lair, and arrangements put in train for the night. After a scanty supper of scraps and fragments—for by this time the store in the larder was at low ebb—having charged Bambo and Tonio with threats and strong words to look well after the children on peril of their lives, and on no account to allow them out of the van, Joe and Moll dressed themselves in their best, and set off to look up some old friends and spend a pleasant evening in the town.
No sooner were they safely out of the way than Tonio slyly disappeared—following, doubtless, the example set him by his master and mistress—possessing no more sense of responsibility to restrain his movements than a kitten or a butterfly. Thus the dwarf found himself, greatly to his satisfaction and delight, left in sole charge of the captives and the encampment.
The first faint light of the misty October morning was spreading up slowly from the east, the delicate hoar frost of autumn was lying like a filmy veil of silvery gossamer over the furze bushes and rough grass around the camping-place, before the pair of pleasure-seekers returned. By that time, however, Tonio was sleeping soundly beside the piebalds in shelter of a tumble-down wall, with the monkey curled closely in against his dusky breast. Joe and Moll were stupid, tired, and decidedly out of sorts, as people are wont to be after a surfeit of enjoyment and a scant supply of sleep. Bruno growled as usual at being disturbed, and clanked his chain as if in remonstrance; from behind the wall the uneasy fidgeting of the hungry horses could be plainly heard; while Tonio's noisy snoring rose and fell upon the still, damp air with rhythmical regularity. But over the old yellow caravan a curious and suspicious silence reigned; not a sound was to be heard within its wooden walls, not a glimmer of light came through its curtained panes.
Joe muttered an ugly word, roughly threw open the door, struck a match, lighted the lamp and peered about him. Bambo's usual shakedown was deserted; the pallet where the children should have been was unoccupied. The place was empty; the prisoners had escaped—under the guidance of the dwarf undoubtedly, many hours before, probably.
Behind her husband's back Moll executed a sort of breakdown dance, so great was her satisfaction at the unexpected way in which her wishes had been carried out. But the disappointment and wrath of Joe over this sudden overthrow of his schemes were deep and furious.