CHAPTER XVIII

THE DUCK CAVE ADVENTURE

"Ande, cocoa is pretty dry with such stuff."

Dick's great head arose from the hamper package which he was examining, and he flourished in one hand a roasted chicken. The hamper was one he had received that very day from home. They had ordered it brought into their study room, and, miracle to relate, it was done without the knowledge of monitors or small boys.

"What do you propose?" said Ande, as he, too, began investigation. Dick scratched his head dubiously and then his face brightened.

"Eggs."

"Old Ironsides is gone daft. Where does your majesty expect to get eggs, and if ye do get them, what are we going to do with them? Do ye think we are going to be egg-sucking weasels?"

Dick grinned, and, as he tried to set a dramatic attitude, flourished his arm, "We'll set forth the vessels of silver and gold----"

"Avast, there, my lad," said Ande, imitating the tones of smuggler Jack.

"And 'ave a-blooming----"

"Cough it out, my elephantine infant."

"Belshassar's feast. I have an idea."

"Whisper it not in Gath, publish it not in Ascalon. An idea," chuckling, "from an egg-regious Lizard philosopher."

"Egg-nogg," continued Dick, grinning.

"The very thing," said Ande, assuming a more sober tone, "but where?"

"We must first get outside of town," said Dick, soberly.

"No stealing?"

"No stealing."

"'Pon honour?"

"'Pon honour."

Forth they started, cautiously slipping downstairs and out into the street, where both darted away at a rapid pace. On the highroad that led to the little town of Prospidnic, the foremost paused, and puffing like an engine the latter caught up to him.

"Ande, remember the Truro champion footrace?"

Ande nodded.

"Well, I believe 'ee could beat the champion; you went so fast I nigh lost sight of you."

"Now, what's your plan?"

Dick paused a moment to gain his breath, and then spoke.

"Do ye remember the cave near the Red River? Well, the ducks from all around gather there. It's public property, being on the free downs. Eggs used to be there in plenty, but some snivelling squire's steward put a door on it and now tries to bag the industry."

"Art sure the squire didn't buy the section?"

"Well, if he 'as, the ducks that gather there are not his, and 'e 'asn't a mortgage on the eggs of futurity infinitum. The squire's steward is the robber of public rights and human freedom, and----"

"Public eggs," said Ande. "Down with the tyrant,--_sic semper tyrannis_--and up with the eggs."

Onward they pressed at a dog-trot. It was evening and getting dusk when they reached the neighbourhood.

"You go in, Dick, and I'll mount watchman."

The door was the contrivance of a genius, for, while it was designed to hold out boys and men, yet a small aperture beneath favored the entrance of ducks and other smaller creatures. The cave was in the side of a hill near the Red River stream, and opened on the roadway.

"I'll go in as soon as I get un open," says Dick, as he wrenched at the latch. By dint of tugging and pulling, the hasp was loosened, and in went Dick, crawling on his hands and knees, the height of the tunnel not permitting him to walk upright.

"Hast found any?"

"No, steward must 'ave been here. 'Tis a most beastly place and nigh turns one's stomach," muttered Dick from the interior.

There was the sound of a horse's tread in the distance, and the sound of whistling approaching. Fearing that the open door would excite suspicion, Ande gently closed it, and the hasp being a spring affair, fell into place. Then, stealing cautiously behind a neighbouring hedge, he awaited the passing of the traveller.

Dick, having made certain and wealthy discoveries in the egg line, his bag full and certain pockets bulged to their utmost, was, in the meantime, cautiously returning to the exit, where, before he knew it, he had bumped with the force of a battering ram against the closed door. It would not yield to any of his efforts, and then, thinking Ande was joking him, he cried out in impatient voice, "Lemme out, Ande, do, I got eggs a-plenty." Receiving no answer, he began butting afresh, and roared louder.

Now the horseman had approached and heard the infernal roaring and racket that seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth. He was a simple, unsophisticated countryman, with an appetite for ale and a passion for thievery that was well known to the community. Greggs, as he was surnamed, was not noted for his personal courage, and the loneliness of the place, even in daylight, the gloom of the overshadowing trees, and the dusk of twilight, was not calculated to make or add any more heroism to his nature. Within his breast, as within all countrymen of the time, and even still, in many districts, there had constantly been drilled the old beliefs in witches, fairies, giants, goblins, and a host of other superstitions with which Cornwall has been replete for ages. It was no wonder, then, that when he came within the border of the shadow, etched darkly by the trees, he whistled louder, and finally burst into singing a hymn tune, to let all wandering spirits realise that he was a godly fellow, kicking his steed all the while to hasten its ambling pace.

"Got eggs--lemme out--Ande--lemme out!"

The horse stood stock still, refusing to budge an inch forward, and trembling in great terror. In vain the fearful man began to belabour and kick his leathery sides; the animal would not go forward, but began to uneasily sidle around and around. The butting and bellowing of Dick still continued, with little intermission. Greggs ceased singing, the great drops of perspiration stood out in beads on his face, and with another frantic effort he kicked his horse's sides in an agony of fear. Then, as the butting was renewed with greater force, a cry came from Greggs's lips:

"Oh, Mr. Devil, 'ave mercy 'pon me!"

Dick was indefatigable in his butting and bellowing, but even his patience began to give way and he began to swear in a mild way.

"Damme, Ande, come take eggs!"

Each word was punctuated by a savage butt from Dick's great head on the door.

"Oh, no, Mr. Devil,--not that--Greggs done no 'arm," mistaking Dick's cry for the devil's warning "Damnation to Greggs."

Again came the stifled underground roar, coming forth with a muffled: "Take--(crash)--eggs--(crash)--damme--(crash)"--and a word beginning with h.

"Mercy, Mr. Devil, doan't 'ee take Greggs there. Ah, why did I leave the hangel tavern!"

"Damnation!"

"No, no, Mr. Devil."

"A beastly trick," roared Dick, still butting away.

"Aye, kind sir, I'm guilty of many beastly tricks."

"Ande, you deceiving cad."

"Yes, I confess I 'ave deceived dad."

"Here I am--beating m'head."

"Aye, I beat un on the 'ead, too," moaned Greggs.

"Like a thieving robber."

"Yes, Mr. Devil, I robbed un, but 'ave mercy. I promise to take un all back," groaned Greggs, in terror, still kicking his steed, that shied around and around.

"Come, take the bag, you wretched cad."

"Aye, I promise; I'll take the bag back to dad."

"It's full," roared Dick.

"No, no, it was honly 'alf full."

"Zounds!" swore Dick.

"Pounds! No 'e wadn't; they were mostly shillings."

"Let me out!"

"No! Doan't 'ee come out. I promise, Mr. Devil--Oh!----"

The last remark of Greggs gave place to a shriek of agonised fear. The door, under repeated blows of Dick, gave way, and out he rolled with his bag of eggs, looking in the darkness like a hideous monster come up from the deep. The horse, in mad terror, wheeled and galloped back to town; Greggs, praying and howling like a madman, hugging his horse's neck, let fall his basket in the way. Ande was rolling in the grass beyond the hedge, choking with laughter.

Dick was a picture of wrath, as he stood sputtering by the road-side. His clothes were foul, the natural result of crawling into a duck cave, and he was apparently sick at the stomach.

"What's wrong, Dick?"

"A beastly trick,--phew--ah, egg--phew--ah, in mouth,--phew--ah--addled--broke."

Ande roared and roared with shrieking laughter. Dick had filled the bag and his pockets, and finding one extra one, had placed it in his mouth for safe keeping, just before the latch gave way.

"Well," said Ande, "they aren't all broke, and the most must be good."

Dick, at first was very much incensed, but Ande, while he helped to clean him up at the Red River, explained how he had closed the door to avert suspicion. Dick was mollified when the description of Greggs's terrors was related, and laughed a faint laugh that partly brought back his good humour.

It appeared that Greggs had ill-treated his poor old father, and had robbed him of some of his savings. Taking warning from the supposed admonition of his Satanic majesty, he afterward treated his father with the greatest consideration, refunding the shillings he had stolen. Nothing, however, could induce him to pass that way again, and the story getting wind and becoming much exaggerated, few would trust themselves in that locality after dusk.

"Whew! Look here, Dick." Ande picked up the basket and drew from it a small bottle of rye.

"The very thing we need," gasped Dick, "the egg-nog shall become punch."

"I don't know, Dick. You see, if we take it, it'll be stealing. The school rules are against it, and no matter how sparingly and temperately a fellow uses it no allowance is made."

"Well, if we give it back to Greggs, it'll do 'im more harm than it will us; then, we can send Greggs the cost of it, so it won't be stealing, and as to school rules, why, we are breaking school rules now by being away," said Dick, reassuringly.

"'Twon't do, Dick; the breaking of one law doesn't justify the breaking of another. We'll let it behind."

"Very well," said Dick, but at the same moment, concealed by the dusk of the evening, he slipped the flask into his pocket.

"You'll 'ave to 'cave' about getting the eggs in," said Ande, as they trotted along home, back to Helston.

"That's what's worrying me," said Dick.

"I have it," said Ande, and the plan seemed so feasible that he resumed his old bantering tone. "Dick, old lad, congratulate your friend on being a man of infinite resources. I have a plan, my Ajax of egg-hunting renown and Lucifer reputation."

"Huh," growled Dick, "we're getting near town."

"A rope--the hamper rope," said Ande; "that beast, Creakle, will be on guard within, or Tenny. I go in empty-handed,--see--you stay out below the study window, in the dark angle; I let down the rope,--presto--up come the eggs. You come in empty-handed,--see?" and Ande gave Dick a nudge.

Dick brightened up perceptibly.

"But 'ow to get you in with that pungent, ducky aroma, without exciting the blatant curiosity of Creakle, or the sharp smellers of Sherwood--um--das ist die frage. Whew! What a beastly odour."

Dick looked worried and down-hearted.

"But cheer up, Dick, you can't help it, and we'll get you in some how, never fear. The plan is sure to work."

The plan did work like a charm, and soon they were in the comfortable study, Dick clothed in clean garments, and the steaming egg-nogg and eatables before them. The evening's adventure, the terror of Greggs, the chicken, and other viands, made the evening pass pleasantly by. During the close of the feast, Tenny rapped, but was not let in.

"Now Creakle will be next," said Ande, "and we can't keep a monitor out. Away with the things!"

The things were hurriedly placed away, the Virgils opened, and with lexicons in hand, they seemed busily and studiously engaged when steps were heard advancing quickly along the corridor. The door was swung open, it being unbarred, and in stalked Sherwood and Creakle. The latter had a cunning twinkle in his eye; the former with grave, severe countenance.

"Gentlemen," began Sherwood, in stern voice, but he went no further. Ande looked up with a mild, reproving eye.

"I believe no student is to be disturbed in the evening study hour, except upon probable cause of misdemeanour; I believe that is an unwritten law."

"Quite right, gentlemen, excuse me," and Master Sherwood backed out, followed by Creakle. Humiliation is a poor word to express the feelings of the under-master. Creakle could be heard expostulating with him in the corridor.

"I saw them both, on the run out of town, and saw them enter on their return, and there was a smell of ducks, sir, on Mr. Thomas's clothes."

"Nonsense," said Master Sherwood, "how should it not be manifest to me also?" Sherwood had not thought of the possibility of Thomas changing his clothes.

Creakle still protested.

"Absurd! Why, sir, do you know you are accusing the head of the fifth?" said Master Sherwood, exasperated. "Do you know your misplaced zeal has involved me in censure that was just, and a rebuke from fifth form boys that was, to say the least, humiliating? You, sir, should have known better. There must have been an upheaval of latent stupidity within you to thus bring disgrace upon both master and school. Sir, how will the public esteem our reputation when they are informed that master and monitor are banded together to disturb the study hours, and falsely accuse honourable students."

"I thought," began Creakle, humbly.

"You thought, sir; what right had you to think? You must know before recklessly accusing honourable students and bringing disgrace, not on me alone, but on the head."

Master Sherwood, in high dudgeon, went to his study, and Creakle, crestfallen, retired to the form room, where he had charge over the smaller form study hours.

"Now," said Dick, "that spying cad must be brought down to give him some sparks of honour."

"What's the plan?"

Dick, for the first time, refused to divulge to his chum his course, but divesting himself of his shoes cautiously slipped down to the cloakroom below.

That night, as Creakle was donning his gown, which he always left in the cloakroom, there arose a fearful uproar in the corridor above. Hastening upstairs with full speed, he tripped over an invisible something and fell with a crash to the floor. Instantly doors opened, lights appeared, and a confused sound of many voices, and in the midst of all, along stalked Master Sherwood.

"What is the meaning of this, Creakle?" he asked of that worthy, who was still on the floor, dazed with his fall.

"I fell, sir."

"You did, and pray why?" with biting sarcasm.

Just then he smelt the fumes of rye on the garb of the miserable Creakle, and his face grew dark with severity.

"You have been drinking, sir?"

"I have not," stammered the monitor.

"Don't give me the lie, sir; you are reeking with the fumes of an ale-house. Ugh! you putrescent miscreant! This is a case for the head. You will appear before him to-morrow. Such a disgrace! In what light will the public view this scandalous demoralisation? Outrageous, sir! This is the second offence to-night. I thought you were inebriated,--intoxicated--in short, what the vulgar tongue calls drunk, when you brought me a silly, drivelling tale of a misdemeanour of two honourable students, and now you make it evident by staggering around, sprawling, and destroying the peace and sobriety of the school!"

"I--I--I am not drunk."

"I call you all to witness the state of filthy inebriety of this fellow," said Sherwood, with cold dignity.

"What do you say, sir?" said the tutor to Dick.

"He smells horrid, sir," said that worthy.

"Ah! You are all witnesses," said Sherwood, and then, turning to the dejected Creakle, "in with you to your study, and relieve honourable men from the abhorrent, filthy odours that assail decent olfactory organs."

Mr. Sherwood retired in dignified silence, and Creakle slunk into his study.

"Dick, what is the moral?" said Ande, after they had reëntered their study.

"The revenge of diabolical Ajax?"

"No, the moral is this: the man who takes delight in spying on others and revelling in their disgrace, even though he be a monitor, shall be beaten with his own stick."