Bevis: The Story of a Boy
Page 39
had got out thatthere had been a battle.
"You said it was a picnic," said Polly, shaking Mark.
"You told I so," said the Bailiff, seizing his collar.
"Let me go," shouted Mark, punching.
"Well, what have you done with him? Where is he?"
Mark could not tell, and between them, four or five to one, they hustledhim into the cellar.
"You must go to gaol," said the Bailiff grimly. "Bide there a bit."
"How can you find Bevis without me!" shouted Mark, who had just admittedhe did not know where Bevis was. But the Bailiff pushed him stumblingdown the three stone steps, and he heard the bolt grate in the staple.Thus the general who had just won a great battle was thrustignominiously into a cellar.
Mark kicked and banged the door, but it was of solid oak, without somuch as a panel to weaken it, and though it resounded it did not evenshake. He yelled till he was hoarse, and hit the door till his fistsbecame numbed. Then suddenly he sat down quite quiet on the stonesteps, and the tears came into his eyes. He did not care for thecellar, it was about Bevis--Bevis was lost somewhere and wanted him, andhe _must_ go to Bevis.
Dashing the tears away, up he jumped, and looked round to see if hecould find anything to burst the door open. There was but one window,deep set in the thick wall, with an iron upright bar inside. The glasswas yellowish-green, in small panes, and covered with cobwebs, so thatthe light was very dim. He could see the barrels, large and small, andas his eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness some meat--a joint--and vegetables on a shelf, placed there for coolness. Out came hispocket-knife, and he attacked the joint savagely, slashing off slicesanyhow, for he (like Bevis) was hungry, and so angry he did not carewhat he did.
As he ate he still looked round and round the cellar and peered into thecorners, but saw nothing, though something moved in the shadow on thefloor, no doubt a resident toad. Mark knew the cellar perfectly, and hehad often seen tools in it, as a hammer, used in tapping the barrels,but though he tried hard he could not find it. It must have been takenaway for some purpose. He stamped on the stone floor, and heard arustle as a startled mouse rushed into its hole.
The light just then seemed to increase, and turning towards the windowhe saw the full round moon. As it crossed the narrow window the shadowof the iron bar fell on the opposite wall, then moved aside, and in avery few minutes the moon began to disappear as she swept up into thesky. He watched the bright shield still himself for awhile, then as helooked down he thought of the iron bar, and out came his knife again.
The bar was not let into the stonework, the window recess inside wasencased with wood, and the bar, flattened at each end, was fastened withthree screws. Mark endeavoured to unscrew these, he quickly broke thepoint of his knife, and soon had nothing but a stump left. The stumpanswered better than the complete blade, and he presently got the screwsout. He then worked the bar to and fro with such violence that hewrenched the top screws clean away from the wood there. But just as helifted the bar to smash all the panes and get out, he saw that the framewas far too narrow for him to pass through.
Inside the recess was wide enough, but it was not half so broad wherethe glass was. The bar was really unnecessary; no one could have got inor out, and perhaps that was why it had been so insecurely fastened, asthe workmen could hardly have helped seeing it was needless.
Mark hurled the bar to the other end of the cellar, where it knockedsome plaster off the wall, then fell on an earthenware vessel used tokeep vegetables in, and cracked it. He stamped up and down the cellar,and in his bitter and desperate anger, had half a mind to set all thetaps running for spite.
"Let me out," he yelled, thumping the door with all his might. "Let meout; you've no business to put me in here. If the governor was at home,I know he wouldn't, and you're beasts--you're _beasts_."
He was right in so far that the governor would not have locked him inthe cellar; but the governor was out that evening, and Bevis's mamma, sosoon as she found he was missing, had had the horse put in the dog-cart,and went to fetch him. So Mark fell into the hands of the merciless.No one even heard him howling and bawling and kicking the heart of oak,and when he had exhausted himself he sat down again on a wooden framemade to support a cask. Presently he went to the door once more, andshouted through the keyhole, "Tell me if you have found Bevis!"
There was no answer. He waited, and then sat down on the frame, andasked himself if he could get up through the roof. By standing on thetop of the largest cask he thought he could touch the rafters, but nomore, and he had no tool to cut his way through with. "I know," he saidsuddenly, "I'll smash the lock." He searched for the iron bar, andfound it in the earthenware vessel.
He hit the lock a tremendous bang, then stopped, and began to examine itmore carefully. His eyes were now used to the dim light, and he couldsee almost as well as by day, and he found that the great bolt of thelock, quite three inches thick, shot into an open staple driven into thedoor-post, a staple much like those used to fasten chains to.
In a minute he had the end of the iron bar inside the staple. Thestaple was strong, and driven deep into the oaken post, but he had agreat leverage on it. The bar bent, but the staple came slowly, theneasier, and presently fell on the stones. The door immediately swungopen towards him.
Mark dashed out with the bar in his hand, fully determined to knock anyone down who got in his way, but they were all in the road, and hereached the meadow. He dropped the bar, and ran for the battlefield.Going through the gate that opened on the New Sea, something pushedthrough beside him against his ankles. It would have startled him, buthe saw directly it was Pan. The spaniel had followed him: it may bewith some intelligence that he was looking for his master.
"Pan! Pan!" said Mark, stooping to stroke him, and delighted to getsome sympathy at last. "Come on."
Together they raced to the battlefield.
Then from the high ground Mark saw the beacon on the island, andinstantly knew it was Bevis. He never doubted it for a moment. Helooked at the beacon, and saw the flames shoot up, sink, and rise again;then he ran back as fast as he could to the head of the water, where theboats were moored in the sandy corner. Fetching the sculls from thetumbling shed where they were kept, he pushed off in the blue boat whichthey were fitting up for sailing, never dreaming that the first voyagein it would be like this. Pan jumped in with him.
In his haste, not looking where he was going, he rowed into the weeds,and was some time getting out, for the stalks clung to the blade of thescull as if an invisible creature in the water were holding it. Soonafter he got free he reached the waves, and in five minutes, coming outinto the open channel, the boat began to dance up and down. With windand wave and oar he drove along at a rapid pace, past the oak where thecouncil had been held, past the jutting point, and into the broadwaters, where he could see the beacon, if he glanced over his shoulder.
The boat now pitched furiously, as it seemed to him rising almoststraight up, and dipping as if she would dive into the deep. But shealways rose again, and after her came the wave she had surmountedrolling with a hiss and bubble eager to overtake him. The crest blewoff like a shower in his face, and just as the following roller seemedabout to break into the stern-sheets it sank. Still the wave alwayscame after him, row as hard as he would, like vengeance, black, dire,and sleepless.
Lit up by the full moon, the raging waters rushed and foamed and gleamedaround him. Though he afterwards saw tempests on the ocean, the wavesnever seemed so high and so threatening as they did that night, alone inthe little boat. The storms, indeed, on inland waters are full ofdangers, perhaps more so than the long heaving billows of the sea, forthe waves seem to have scarcely any interval between, racing quick,short and steep, one after the other.
This great black wave--for it looked always the same--chased himeagerly, overhanging the stern. Pan sat there on the bottom as itlooked under the wave. Mark rowed his hardest, trying to get away fromit. Hissing, foaming, wi
th the rush and roar of the wind, the wave ranafter. When he ventured to look round he was close to the islands, soquickly had he travelled.
Bevis was standing on the summit of the cliff with a long stick burningat the end in his hand. He held it out straight like the arm of asignal, then waved it a little, but kept it pointing in the samedirection. He was shouting his loudest, to direct Mark, who could nothear a sound, but easily guessed that he meant him to bear the way hepointed. Mark pulled a few strokes and looked again, and saw the whitespray rushing up the cliff, though he could not hear the noise of thesurge.
Bevis was frantically waving the burning brand; Mark understood now, andpulled his left scull, hardest. The next minute the current settingbetween the islands seized the boat, and he was carried by as if on amountain torrent. Everything seemed to whirl past, and he saw the blackwave that had followed him dashed to sparkling fragments