Chapter 4

DISAPPOINTED HOPES.

For the next two or three days his family saw little of Hal. Morning, afternoon, and evening he was over at the Greys'. His meals he took in the schoolroom, and though nurse would have allowed him to come back to the nursery, if he had cared to do so, he very much preferred to have them in solitary state. He seemed to see nothing ridiculous in sitting there by himself; indeed, as he confided to Drusie, he thought it perfectly absurd that a boy of his age should ever have been expected to take them in the nursery.

She and the rest had plenty of time to make all their preparations for the double birthday to be celebrated on Tuesday, for Hal left them completely to themselves; and when he did see them, he was so full of all that he and Dodds Major did together that he had no time to show any interest in them.

"I should very much like to ask him whether he intends to take part in the fight to-morrow, or whether he means to spend the day as usual with his friend," said Helen.

It was late on Monday evening, and they had brought all their preparations to a satisfactory conclusion. The flag--a bright, new Union Jack--had been fastened to a long, slender pole, and was quite ready to be hoisted. The ammunition was arranged in a neat, high pile, and the armour lay ready to hand.

And in the garden summer-house, where, a few days back, the secret meeting had been held, the materials for a most sumptuous feast were in readiness to refresh the weary warriors when the day's work was done.

On previous birthdays they had always been satisfied with lemonade as a drink, but Drusie, feeling that this was a special occasion, had considered that lemonade was, perhaps, hardly a suitable form of refreshment; and so, from a recipe which she was proud to think was entirely out of her own head, she had concocted a bottle of red wine.

"And I think," she said, as she carefully hid it under the seat--"I think that when you taste it you will say that you never in all your lives before drank anything like it."

Tartlets and buns and a few other delicacies were to be ordered from the pastry-cook's on the eventful day itself.

So, everything being ready, and it wanting still an hour or more till their bedtime, they were rather at a loss to know what to do with themselves; and then it was that Helen expressed a desire to know what part Hal intended to take in the morrow's proceedings.

"No part at all, if you ask me," she added. "I say, Drusie, don't you think we might go up to the Greys' gate, and see if we can get a look at Hal and his precious friend Dodds?"

"Hal would be awfully angry if he saw us," said Drusie. "I don't think we should go."

But the hesitating tone in which she spoke showed that she was open to persuasion; and when Jim added his word to Helen's, and said that he thought there would be no harm in just going up and having a look over, she gave way. They soon reached the five-barred gate on which Hal had found Dodds sitting.

Neither of them was there, now, however; and so Helen proposed that they should climb over, and go down the grassy glade, which would bring them on to a small knoll, from whence they could command a view of the house and the wide lawn that lay in front of it.

The temptation to see Hal and his friend together was too strong for them to remember that they would be trespassing, and, scrambling over the gate, they made their way cautiously through the wood.

It was as well that they went cautiously, for the two boys were much closer to them than they had expected. To the left of the wood was a big level field, and it was here, and not on the lawn, that they were playing. The sound of a voice calling impatiently to Hal to hurry up with that ball, and not to be all night about it, was what first drew their attention to his whereabouts; and feeling rather astonished that any one should venture to address him in that imperious way, they crept up to the edge of the wood, and became silent spectators of what was going on.

The wicket was pitched in the middle of the field. Dodds was batting, but as his back was toward them, the children could not see his face. But they could hear his voice, and a very imperious, commanding voice it was. Hal was bowling and fielding as well, and as Dodds sent his balls flying to all parts of the field, Hal had plenty of work to do. And while he raced about in all directions Dodds lay luxuriously on the grass and shouted to him to hurry up. Presently Hal bowled a ball that very nearly knocked the middle stump flat on its back, and Drusie softly clapped her hands, and said "Bravo" under her breath.

"That was a very good ball indeed," they heard Dodds say approvingly. "Send a few more like that."

Hal flushed with pride and pleasure at this praise, but the others thought that he looked a shade disappointed as his friend placed himself again in front of the wicket.

But he continued to bowl for other ten minutes; then Dodds remarked that the light was getting bad, and that they might as well stop.

"I would bowl a bit for you," he said. "It is too dark to see the ball properly; I hope you don't mind. I really did mean to let you have some batting to-day."

"Oh, it does not matter," Hal said hurriedly. "Any time will do. I don't mind a bit."

"Still, I don't like to be selfish," said Dodds, whose conscience appeared to be pricking him. The unseen listeners among the bushes thought it might have pricked him a little earlier in the day, for they soon learned that neither on this occasion nor on any other had Hal been permitted to bat. He had merely bowled and fielded for Dodds. When they recovered from their astonishment at this, they could hardly help laughing. It was really rather funny, after all Hal's bragging, to find that he was only made use of in the way that he made use of them.

And the curious part of it was that Hal raised no objection, although it was easy to see that he was feeling a little disappointed this evening. On the other hand, he was so flattered at being allowed to associate, even on these unequal terms, with a boy so much older than himself, that he took care to smother his discontent.

"What about to-morrow?" said Dodds carelessly. "Can you be here pretty early?"

Hal hesitated for a minute before replying. In spite of Helen's assertions to the contrary, he had not forgotten that to-morrow was the day of the storming of the fort.

Several times, as he had hastened to and from the Greys', he had heard them at work there, and had known perfectly well what they were doing. He had even overheard a conversation, in which they discussed the likelihood of his taking part in the fight.

And at the time Hal, touched to see how much they wanted him, had resolved that he would spend the whole of his birthday with them.

"Yes," Dodds went on; "come as soon after breakfast as you can--it is cooler then--and we will have a regular good go in. I want to make a big score at that match next week. You are coming over to see it, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Hal stammered. Though Dodds had not mentioned that cricket match during the last few days, Hal had not forgotten his promise to get him included in it if possible. Consequently, Dodds's careless inquiry as to whether he intended to come over as a mere spectator disconcerted him very much. However, he swallowed his disappointment, and said that he had thought of going.

"But about to-morrow," he added. "I don't think I can come--"

"Oh, but you must," Dodds cried out, interrupting him. "I simply can't do without you. Look here; if it is the batting that you are feeling sore about, you shall go in first. There! I have promised you that."

Hal's face brightened. He _did_ wish to show Dodds that his batting was very much better than his bowling. And perhaps Dodds would be so struck with the brilliancy of his performance that he might after all manage to secure him a place in the match. It would be a real pity, he reflected, to neglect such a chance. After all, the others could very well do without him to-morrow.

"Well," said Dodds impatiently, "what do you say? Will you come? Or are you going somewhere with your brothers and sisters? You have got some, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Hal; "but I never play with them--not since I have been at school, at least. You see they are all much younger than I am."

"Oh, a set of kids," said Dodds indifferently. "What a nuisance they must be!"

But this Hal did have the grace to contradict.

"Oh no, they are not," he said; "but they have kept on liking things that I don't care about, and they get huffy when I don't play with them. Of course," he added with an aggrieved air, "it is hardly likely that I should care to mix myself up very much with them now."

"I see," said Dodds; and though they could not see his face, Drusie and Jim were sure there must have been a twinkle of merriment in his eyes. "You have grown out of all their games, you mean, and are too old to play with them any more."

"Yes," said Hal eagerly; "that's just it. Now, you understand that all right at once, but I cannot get them to see it."

"It is wonderful how silly kids can be," said Dodds gravely. "But, look here; are you coming or are you not? For, if you are not, I shall ask one of the Harveys to spend the day with me."

That was enough for Hal. Throwing his scruples and his half-formed resolution to spend his birthday at home to the winds, he said at once that he would come.

"That's right," said Dodds in the half-patronizing tone he had used all along. "Be here directly after breakfast then, and you shall have first innings; that's a bargain."

"I won't forget," said Hal in a delighted tone. "I expect I shall be up here about nine o'clock."

It was a very melancholy little quartette that presently emerged from the bushes, and took its way home through the woods and the fields.

"I never should have believed it of Hal--never!" said Helen, quite forgetting that she had always warned the others of what they might expect. "To desert us on his birthday, and for a boy that does not care a bit about him, except to make use of him!"

"It is funny," said Jim thoughtfully. "I never should have thought that Hal would have allowed another boy to order him about as Dodds does. Why, he fags for Dodds just as Hal would like us to fag for him; only we won't. And he did not seem to mind a bit."

But Drusie never spoke one single word the whole way home. To think that Hal--her own twin--from whom, until a short three months ago, she had been almost inseparable, should arrange to spend the whole of his birthday away from home caused her bitter grief. It was not even that he had forgotten the fact of their birthdays. She knew quite well he remembered, from the momentary hesitation he had shown. No; he had deliberately chosen to desert her, and Drusie felt as if she should never get over it.