But there were times when Kitty Merrydew was nearly mad, and such a time was the present. To be defeated and defied by this brat of an Irish girl drove her beside herself. She took out her whip, and with the aid of the two Dodds was about to administer a severe cut across Peggy’s back when there was a sudden noise and commotion, the trampling of hoofs, and the quick sound of a pony approaching. For a few minutes Whinsie had looked on in astonishment, too absolutely amazed to understand poor Peggy’s cry for help, but within Whinsie’s heart there was a very faithful pony-sense of justice. Four against one! And wasn’t the girl who sat on his back Irish, and hadn’t he himself first seen the light in the Wicklow mountains? With a spirited neigh he leaped the fence which divided the paddock from the hockey-field and made straight for the girls. Now was their turn to be frightened. Seizing their hockey-sticks and Kitty’s riding-whip, they rushed away, leaving Peggy alone, pale, cold, and unconscious in the centre of the field. Whinsie sniffed all round her and tried to lick her little white face; but she lay, to all appearance, white and dead. The hockey-stick had done its work, and had broken her leg just above the ankle.
CHAPTER XII.
THE CULPRITS INTERVIEWED.
Nobody specially remarked the absence of Peggy Desmond from school that afternoon. It is true that beyond doubt the poor child would have been found much sooner had not Miss Archdale been forced to go into the nearest town on special business for Mrs. Fleming; but when school was over, and it was time to go into the refectory for the midday meal, The Imp knew well that some immediate steps must be taken, or her conduct and that of her satellites would be discovered. She, therefore, during the few minutes which were given to the girls to prepare for dinner, sought her chosen ally, Grace Dodd, and told her that she must certainly go and look for Peggy, and must get Peggy to promise to keep the whole affair dark.
“She’s such an ignorant little cad,” said The Imp, “that she does not know any of the rules of a school where ladies are trained. Of course, if she were one of the other girls she would know that what has occurred would be kept a profound secret, and that any girl who divulged that secret would break the honour of the school. Go and find her as quickly as possible, Grace. Tell her that of course the thing is at an end, and that I’ll be decent to her in the future—that is, if she doesn’t tell. If she does, I declare I could almost kill her! But run, do run, Grace; I don’t see her anywhere about, and we’ll be late for hall.”
Grace, feeling anything but comfortable, rushed off to the hockey-field. It was essential for her to keep in with The Imp, or all kinds of unpleasant disclosures with regard to her own conduct would get abroad; but she had, almost as much as Sophy, disliked the proceedings of that morning. She soon reached the hockey-field and her heart did stand still for a minute when she saw the pony—whose real name was Sam, not Whinsie—quietly cropping grass not far from a perfectly motionless little figure. Was Peggy really hurt? Grace felt a queer, sick feeling coming over her. She recalled quite vividly the whack she had given Peggy with her hockey-club on her slender leg. Oh dear, oh dear! if Peggy were really hurt, what was to be done?
She bent down over the child, who was conscious now and was looking at her quietly.
“Have ye come back to finish me bating?” Peggy asked.
“Oh dear no, dear no! Poor dear Peggy! I’m so frightfully sorry. I do hope you’re not hurt. After all, you got only one tiny stroke from Kitty’s whip. Can’t you get up, Peggy dear, and come to the house? It’s just dinner-time, Peggy, and you shouldn’t be lying on this cold grass any longer. See, shall I help you to stand? Of course, Peggy, you’ll never tell what has happened? No honourable girl ever, EVER tells.”
“But ye said I was not honourable, so why shouldn’t I relave meself by tellin’?”
“Oh but, dear Peggy, you couldn’t, it would be so awful. You see, we never meant really to hurt you, it was nothing but a sort of a joke; and we’re so very fond of Kitty we couldn’t quite stand your shaking her as you did last night. But we only meant to frighten you a little bit, and to give you perhaps two little strokes with the whip. You’ll never tell, will you, Peggy—you promise, don’t you, Peggy? If you did, we’d—why, we might be expelled, Peggy, ruined for life all of us, just because we wanted to have a bit of a lark with you.”