Merrylips

by Beulah Marie Dix

There followed for the two children a week of wandering that would not have been easy even for grown men. All the time they were in terror,—more than they need have been, perhaps,—lest they fall into the hands of the cruel rebels. Indeed, the country through which they passed was swarming with soldiers and with camp followers of the Parliament. And Rupert and Merrylips were sure, and rather proud of the fact, that in dress and bearing they themselves looked so much like Cavaliers that they should instantly be known for such, if they let themselves be seen by their enemies.

So they kept away from towns and villages, where they were likely to be stopped and questioned. For greater safety they travelled by night, and their food—coarse bread, and meat, and fresh cheese—they bought at lonely cottages. They slept in woods and thickets, where sometimes they found nuts and haws with which to piece out their meals. They dared not even ask too many questions about the roads that they should take, and so it happened often that they went astray. Still, they travelled northward, in the main, along the river Slyne, till one morning they met with a rebel patrol.

The soldiers shouted to them to stand. They were half in jest, no doubt, but it was no jest to Rupert and Merrylips. In great fright they ran for their lives, as they believed, into a wood close by. They heard a shot fired after them. They heard a crashing of horses that were forced through the bushes in their rear. They ran madly up hills and down muddy hollows. When Merrylips stumbled, Rupert caught her hand and dragged her along. Not till they had left the pursuit far behind them did they drop down, all scratched and bemired, and lie sobbing for breath.

After that they shaped their course eastward, away from the danger belt between the lines, where they had been travelling. Presently, said Rupert, they would turn westward again, but for now, till the country was quieter, they would keep to the settled parts that were held for the Parliament.

It was at this time that he thought up a story to tell, if they were caught and questioned. He would say that they were cousins and that their name was Smith, for that was a common, honest-sounding name. He would say, too, that they had been at school near Horsham and had run away to join the Parliament army and fight the Cavaliers.

"And we must call 'em wicked Cavaliers, and abuse 'em roundly," said Rupert, who was very proud of his plan, "and then no doubt they'll believe us little rebels and let us go about our business."

Merrylips was not over-pleased at the thought of telling so many fibs, nor did she wish to pass herself off as a rebel. More than ever she feared and hated all that party since the meeting with the Roundhead patrol. But she said nothing, for she wished to do as Rupert wished, since he was kind to her.

For Rupert had kept his word, ever since that twilight outside King's Slynton. Not once had he been rough with Merrylips. He made her rest, while he went alone to get their food. He gave her all the choicest bits. He carried her on his back when they forded streams. Because he was the older and the stronger, he took good care of her, as he had promised to do. But all the time she knew that it was only because she was weak that he was kind.

She meant to be very brave and strong. But she did not find it so easy to be a boy, out in the cold woods, as she had found it in the cheery mess-room at Monksfield. She did not whimper, no, not once, but she could not walk so stoutly as Rupert, for all her trying. And she caught a cold, and she had such a sore throat that she could scarcely eat their hard food. Rupert did not scold, but she knew that she must seem to him weak and cowardly.

Now before long Merrylips had blistered her feet. Rupert had strained a tendon in his ankle, at the very outset, and though he made light of it, he went each day more lame. Thus crippled, they could not travel far in a single day. So it was that, about the time when they turned westward again, they found that, though they had not half finished their journey, they had spent all their money.