“I’ve come, sir, for good,” I said sharply.
“I hope you have,” he replied drily; “but is that all of you? Where’s your tooth-brush and comb, and clean stockings?”
“I wanted to bring my box, sir,” I said, “but it was too heavy. Would any of the men come and fetch it?”
“Ask ’em,” he said abruptly, and he turned away. This seemed cold and strange; but I knew him to be rather curious and eccentric in his ways, so I walked to one of the cart-sheds and looked about for a man to help me.
I thought I saw some one enter the shed; but when I got inside no one was there, as far as I could see—only piles of great baskets reaching from floor to ceiling.
Disappointed, I was coming away, when in the gloom at the other end there seemed to be something that was not basket; and taking a few steps forward I made out that it was the boy Shock standing close up against the baskets, with his face away from me.
I stood thinking what I should do. I was to be in the same garden with this lad, who was always sneering at me; and I felt that if I let him have the upper hand he would make my life very much more miserable than it had been lately.
My mind was made up in a moment, and with a decision for which I had not given myself credit I went right in and stood behind him.
“Shock!” I cried; but the boy only gave himself a twitch as if a spasm had run through him, and did not move.
“Do you hear, sir?” I said sharply. “Come here; I want you to help carry my box.”