I talked to the girl, and told her not to be a goose; but she quite made up her mind that the young imp meant to do her a mischief, for showing his letter to me and Harry.
* * * * *
That night, just as we were shutting up, a man from the village came with a message from Dick’s grandmother to say her boy had been home, put on his Sunday clothes, done all his things up in a bundle and started off, saying she would never see him again, and please what was she to do. Had we any idea where he was likely to be gone to?
Harry sent word back that he couldn’t say anything; but the best thing was to send up to the police-station, and they might hear something.
The next day, Lucy came to me as pale as death, and said, “Oh, ma’am, look at this,” and showed me a letter which had come for her that morning, and it was this—“You have betrade our captin; deth to informars!” and underneath it was a skull and two cross-bones and a coffin.
“I daren’t go out, ma’am,” she said; “I daren’t, indeed. He might be lurking about and jump out on me with a pistol. He used to be always telling stories in the kitchen about highwaymen and their stopping people on the road, and you may depend upon it, ma’am, that’s what he’s going to be now he’s run away. I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but if he’s got hold of a pistol there’s no knowing what might happen. And suppose, ma’am, he was to meet me in the lane while I was out with baby, whatever should I do?”
This was a nice idea, and it made me nervous, too; for I had visions of Lucy fainting, or dropping my baby; or, perhaps, the pistol, if the young rascal had one, going off accidentally, and hitting my baby. So I made up my mind she shouldn’t take baby out, except into the garden, and just in front of the house.
I said to Harry, “It’s a nice thing if we are all to be kept in terror by a bit of a boy, who has read penny numbers, and wants to play at being a highwayman; and something must be done.” Harry said it was all nonsense—the boy was gone, and if he was hanging about the neighbourhood, where was he to get a pistol from? The one Harry had taken out of his box was an old worn-out thing, and wasn’t loaded, and he wouldn’t have the money to get another.
I said, “Oh, I don’t know; he might steal one. I’ve read in the papers about errand boys getting revolvers; and I shall never know a moment’s peace till I know where that wretched boy is. A nice thing, if my nurse goes out one day with baby, and gets shot by the young fiend.”
So Harry went up to the police-station, and they laid a trap to catch my lord. From something one of the policemen had heard, he believed that one of the boys of the village was in league with Dick, and knew where he was hiding. So Lucy was told to get hold of this boy, and tell him that she had thought it over and altered her mind, and she wanted to send a letter to Dick.