Читать книгу The Manor School - L. T. Meade - Страница 11

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With trembling fingers Christian lifted her skirt and produced the little bag which contained her precious savings. There were still seven pounds ten shillings in the bag, for she had given away the last half-crown of her first ten shillings to Judith in order to settle with the irate cabman. It was in reality only a one-and-sixpenny ride, but Judith, as she pocketed the shilling, assured Christian that it cost half-a-crown and was cheap at that. Christian knew too little about the ways of the poor to make any remark, but she did feel certain that her money would not go far if it was required at so rapid a rate.

"Here," she said, opening her bag and producing half-a-sovereign; "I ought to get a lot of change out of that."

"So yer will," said Judith, snatching it from her; "and I'll bring in all sorts of things. What do you think we'll want, Rosy? You'd best make a list."

"Oh! I wish I could go with you," said Rose, whose eyes glistened at the sight of the gold.

"But you can't," said Christian, "I should die if I were left alone in this awful, awful place."

"Awful, is it?" said Judith. "My word, you be hard to please! I 'ates the ways of your haristocrats, always with their noses in the air, sniffing at everything, pleased at nothing. The sight of trouble I had to get this sweet little room! And I'm sure it's as pretty a place as can be found. And if that aint a nice, clean bed for the two of yer to sleep in, I don't know where you'll find a better. And there's a fireplace and a table. And oh, my word! here's a cupboard in the wall. What more could the most particular desire? And here's a chest of drawers. Jolly, I call it! And two chairs—one for me, and one atween the two of you. If this room aint spry and cozy, the only thing I can say is that I hope you'll never find yourself worse lodged. Now then, Rosy, tell us what you want."

Rosy began to count on her fingers. She had arranged everything beforehand in her own acute little mind. She knew exactly the food they would require, the matches and the chips of wood for lighting the fire and the coal to fill the grate. She ordered matches and wood and coal now, also red herrings, a little loaf of the best fresh bread, some butter, some tea, sugar and milk.

"You must see about the coal the first thing," said Rosy; "we can't do any cooking until it has come. And, Judith, we must have a saucepan and a kettle and a little frying-pan, and some cups and saucers, and spoons and knives, and a pinch of salt, and wood to light the fire, and half a dozen eggs. Can you remember all those things?"

"That I can," said Judith; "but if you think there will be much change out of ten shillings you're uncommonly mistaken."

"But there ought to be," said Rose, her cheeks growing crimson. "Mother 'ud get all them things and have summat to spare out of five shillings. Look you, Judith, there aint to be any larks with Miss Christian's money. You're to bring back five shillings change, or I'll go out and buy the things myself, whether I'm caught or not."

The smirky, impudent look left Judith's face.

"We needn't stay here at all," continued Rosy. "Miss Christian might so happen to get tired of this here joke. She might so happen to want to go back to her own people, and we will go back, both of us, even if they are angry, if you play any pranks. Now you understand."

Judith nodded. "It's a nice opinion you have of me, Rose Latimer," she said. "What pranks would a poor girl like me be up to? You needn't fret about me and my morals, Rose Latimer, for I'm as straight as a die, I can tell yer."

She ran downstairs, utterly regardless of the dirty walls and the broken stairs. She flew along, leaping over obstacles, and clearing two or three stairs at a time in her headlong flight.

When her steps had died away Rosy looked at Christian. Christian's back was to her; she was standing by the window. She had not removed her hat and jacket. In her heart was a dull weight—the weight of absolute despair. Even Rosy, as she watched Christian and seemed to guess by a sort of instinct what she was feeling, began to find the adventure less adventurous, and even began to see a certain amount of good in the dressmaker's room where she usually sat, cozy and warm, machining long seams and turning out yards and yards of flouncings. Yes, even the dressmaker's room was better than this attic, with Christian, as Rosy expressed it, in a sulk.

"Miss Christian," said the little girl.

Christian made no reply. She drew a step or two nearer the window, and stared out with the most forlorn feeling in her heart. The only view she could obtain from the very small dormer-window of the attic was of some of the neighboring roofs, black with smoke and smuts. They were hideous in the extreme. Christian had never before known what real, absolute ugliness meant. She shuddered, and yet, with a certain fascination, drew nearer. A cat, meant by nature to be white, but of a dull uniform gray, stepped gingerly over the roofs towards her. He met a brother cat, and they saluted each other in the customary manner. Christian turned away with a shudder.

"Miss Christian," said Rosy again.

"What is it, Rose?"

"You are miserable," said Rosy, "and you blame me."

"Well, I never thought it would be like this. I never imagined anything so awful. And is it true that as we ran away we—we'd——"

"Nonsense, Miss Christian! I don't believe it's true for a single minute. It's only Judith's way to frighten you, miss."

"But Mrs. Carter said the same."

"Yes, Miss Christian, I know it; but she was put up to it by Judith."

"I thought you said you liked Judith—that you thought her a nice girl."

"I never seed her afore in the light I do to-day, miss, and that's the truth."

"Rose, I'm frightfully miserable."

"Well, I aint too happy," said Rose.

"Can't we get away from here? I'm frightened."

"We might creep out of a night, for certain, but in the daytime they're a-watchin us."

"Who? Who are watching us?" said Christian. She went up to Rose and clasped her hand in an access of terror.

"Well, that Mrs. Carter; and most like there are others in the house, and they all know you have money. I tell you what, Miss Christian, there's only one thing to do."

"What is that? Oh, what? Oh, I am frightened! I never thought I should be so terrified."

"It's a clear case when one ought to be terrified," said Rose, and she sank down on one of the chairs and stared straight in front of her. "Yes," she repeated, "it's clear it means terrifying; there aint a doubt of that."

"What is to be done?" said Christian. "Oh, if mother could see me now! Oh, father, father! Rosy, I'd rather be in the most awful strict-discipline school in the whole world than here."

"You think so because you aint at the school," was Rosy's astute reply. "Now, Miss Christian, let me think; don't speak for a minute. It were I who got you into this, so it must be me to get you out; that's but fair."

"It is—it is; but can you?"

"Let me think, miss. Judith will be back in half an hour. I'll think for a bit and then speak."

To Christian those few minutes seemed like eternity. At last Rosy stood up. She crossed the room, went to the door and examined it.

"There aint never a lock," she said. "That's bad. But we can put the chest of drawers agen' the door to-night, so that no one can come in without us hearing 'em. And if we are really frightened we can push the bed up agen' the chest, and squeeze it in between the door and the wall; then we'll be as snug and safe as any girls could be. Then we must take the first chance that offers to get away; we must. Judith aint what I thought her. We mustn't tell her—not on any account. We must steal away when she aint here. The folks here won't let us go if they think we want to, so we must pretend."

"Pretend?" said Christian, in amazement.

"For sure, miss; there aint no other way. We must pretend we are delighted—you to be free of the school, me to be your companion. We must have a right good time to-night and turn Judith's head with our merriment. We must laugh and sing and pretend to enjoy ourselves. We must have a sort of feast, and we must talk a lot about buying the tambourines; and Judith must see about hiring a proper tambourine-girl's dress for you and another for me. It will mean maybe five shillings more, but that can't be helped. We must catch 'em by guile, Miss Christian—Mrs. Carter and the rest. They must hear me talking to you about the awful prison life you has escaped, and you must say out very loud that you never did enjoy yourself so much before. We must take 'em in. You leave it to me, miss. You follow up when I speak. When I give you a look you will know what I mean. That's it, miss. Then to-morrow we'll creep away. If anybody meets us we'll say we are going out to buy things. We'll leave the cups and saucers and things behind us, and we'll never come back—never. That's what we must do. It's the only way, for I don't believe that we can be locked up for running away. But I do think the folks in this house will keep us from ever getting home again; or, at any rate, from getting home until they have got all the money they can from us."

Rosy spoke with great confidence. Christian felt cheered by her words.

"It will be horribly difficult," said Christian; "and I hate deceiving. I never did deceive anyone yet in my life."

"It's a case of play-acting," said Rose stoutly; "and if you aint been play-acting all your born days, I don't know who has. Haven't you been Joan of Arc one day, and Charlotte Corday another and poor me Marat in his bath, waiting for you to stab me—and William Tell and the characters in the Bible? There aint no fear that you can't act. You've just got to act once more."

"But what?"

"Why, a girl who loves the slums, and dotes on her freedom, and is determined that nothing shall make her a slave. Now you know what to do. Oh, here comes Judith! I'd know Judith's step in a thousand."

As Rosy said the last words she began to hum in a high, excited, staccato voice: