A swarm of outraged hornets could not have hastened the flight of Steve’s redoubtable desperadoes more than the united exertions of Pat and the donkey. They flew towards the village as if hounded by demons, and were speedily out of sight and earshot.
But where was Stephen! On the impulse of the moment he also took to his heels; but when he reached the fence his native courage and honor returned. He stopped, sighed profoundly, and nervously broke a splinter off a loose rail. He did not know whether this splinter would be of any service to him, but he mechanically carried it in his hand as he slunk back to the well. There he sank down in a heap, and awaited Mr. Jackson’s coming with much perturbation. However, he retained sufficient presence of mind to pluck a tawdry feather out of his hat band, and then set the hat fairly on his head. Wretched trickster! he did not consider how dusk it was, or that Mr. Jackson would probably be more concerned about the donkey than about a rattle-pated schoolboy’s headgear.
Now, if ever, he should have indulged in laughter, for the scene was risible in the extreme. Ah! if he had been an innocent bystander, he would have overnoised even Pat and the donkey. Alas! he felt his guilt, and was more inclined to cry than to laugh.
“Oh,” he groaned, “why did I mix myself with such a pack of nasty little cowards? I knew all the time that I had no business to meddle with that ass. Ass?—why, I’ve made an ass of myself! Where will it all end, and what will Mr. Jackson say to me or do with me?—Well,” with a sigh of relief, “there’s one good thing: the ass will be let loose again!”
Stephen’s gloomy surmises were cut short by Jackson himself. “What does all this mean, you scoundrel?” he roared. “What are you doing here? Where are those boys? have they all gone and left you?”
At that instant another hideous bray, followed by a moan of mortal terror, reverberated in the well, and the new-comer turned and looked in. A boisterous laugh burst from his lips when he discerned the occupants of the well. “Oh! this is rich!” he exclaimed, so jubilantly that Stephen was stupified with amazement.
Encouraged by Mr. Jackson’s merriment, timorous Pat began with redoubled energy. “It’s him! I hain’t done nothin’; so don’t tetch me, Mr. Jackson, for I ain’t had nothin’ to do with it. Lemme go, please!”
Turning to Stephen, Jackson again demanded an explanation. Stephen did not give a “succinct account of the whole proceeding;” but Jackson gathered from his faltering confession that a trick lay at the bottom of the affair.
“Yes, I understand it all,” Jackson replied; “but I don’t see your motive. Well, little boy, I might put you to considerable inconvenience; but it’s so capital a joke—so deep, so surprising, so silly—that I will let you off. The grudge I owe Lawrence is paid now; paid in full.”
This last expression was probably not intended for Steve’s ears; but he overheard it, and asked, with a start, “What about Mr. Lawrence, sir?”