The Fortunes of Philippa: A School Story

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER VII

  TIT FOR TAT

  "All in the nick To play some trick And frolic it with Ho! ho! ho!"

  Though the natural-history portion of the Marshlands Museum grew sorapidly that it threatened to overflow the cabinet, there were very fewantiquities in the collection, a Roman lamp, an Egyptian scarab, a fewold coins, and a Georgian snuff-box making up the whole of the scantystore.

  "I wish we could get a few really ancient things," said Cathy one day,as she dusted and tidied the shelves. "Arrow-heads, I mean, andspindle-whorls, and bronze brooches, and all those delightful finds youhear of people digging up out of barrows. I'm sure there ought to besome on these moors if we only knew where to look for them."

  "Go and dig, then," suggested Dick. "You don't know what you might comeacross."

  "Why shouldn't I?" said Cathy. "There's a little round green mound justin the corner of the field near the stone bridge that, I always think,looks as if it ought to have something inside it. I shall certainly trysome day, when I have time."

  Cathy generally carried out her intentions, so one afternoon about aweek later she came from the tool-house carrying two small garden spadesin her hand.

  "Come along, Phil," she said. "We'll go and dig on the moors. It's agood opportunity while the boys are out fishing. They always make suchfun of us. It will be quite time to tell them about it if we findanything."

  I was more than willing, so we started briskly up the steep stony roadtowards the moors. It was a glorious autumn afternoon, with larkssinging overhead, and the heather a glow of soft purple below. Flocks ofplovers scared at our approach flew off with warning cries, and asea-gull or two, which had been feeding with them, flapped majesticallyaway towards the silvery line of the sea in the far distance. Wefollowed the course of the noisy brook for about a mile, till we reachedthe little rough stone bridge which spanned the rapid, rushing water.

  "Why do they make the bridge so much wider than the stream?" I asked, asI looked down at the narrow channel under the arch.

  "The water is low now," answered Cathy. "But you should see it whenthere has been a storm upon the hills. It comes raging down in a greatfoaming torrent, and it's so wide that sometimes you can scarcely get onto the bridge. It looks grand then. I often think the country is evenmore beautiful in winter than in summer, yet how few people who live intowns ever dream of taking a Christmas holiday to see what the moors arelike in December!"

  "They would find it dull, I expect," I suggested, for I could notimagine Aunt Agatha or any of her friends leaving the diversions ofLondon to seek nature's solitudes in mid-winter.

  "They don't know how to enjoy themselves," said Cathy, who had a finescorn for town-dwellers. "I would rather have a ramble over the fells inthe snow, or a scamper on Lady after the hounds, than all the partiesand pantomimes you could offer me."

  The mound proved to be a small green hillock in the corner of a verystony field close to the bridge.

  "It's just the kind of place the prehistoric people used to bury theirchiefs under," declared Cathy. "Don't you remember the pictures Ishowed you in Mother's book? There ought to be a skeleton in the middle,and all the drinking-vessels and ornaments and things which they put inthe grave with him. If we pull a few of these stones away I think weshall be able to dig; the soil seems fairly light."

  "It's very soft here," I said, putting in my spade as I spoke andturning up the turf without much difficulty.

  "So it is. Perhaps a rabbit has burrowed there and loosened the earth.We'll go on here, as it seems an easy place."

  We had not dug more than a foot deep when Cathy's spade struck uponsomething hard.

  "Stop, Philippa! Be careful!" she cried. "If there's really anythinghere we mustn't spoil it on any account."

  She went down on her knees, and, putting her hand into the hole we haddug, began to feel about cautiously.

  "There is! There actually is!" she exclaimed, and with eyes shining withdelight she drew forth a small round vessel fashioned somewhat in theshape of an urn. It appeared to be made of baked clay, and was brokenand crumbling round the top and stained with darkish marks below.

  "It must be two thousand years old or more," said Cathy, in a voice ofrapture. "And there's something inside it too!"

  She turned it carefully upside down, and out fell a few little bones andfive worn and rusty-looking coins.

  "Now, this _is_ a discovery," she continued. "No doubt it was a Celticchief who was buried here. They would burn his body first, and put hisbones in the urn along with a few Roman coins. You can't see the markson them, can you? Never mind, we'll rub them up when we go home. What anaddition to the collection! _Sha'n't_ we crow over the boys, just!"

  We filled up the hole in the mound again, and went home elated withpride, feeling that the British Museum itself might justly envy us ourpossession. The boys were hanging about the gate as though they werewaiting for our return, though they certainly could not have known wherewe had been that afternoon.

  "Hullo! What have you got there?" they cried, as Cathy produced hertreasure.

  "Don't ever dare to chaff me again about antiquities," she announced."What do you say to this?"

  It might have been fancy, but I certainly thought I saw a wink passbetween Dick and Edward. Perhaps, however, I was mistaken, since theyall seemed duly impressed.

  "Looks a real mouldy, crumbly, museum old kind of a performance," saidEdward.

  "Must be genuine if you dug it up yourself," remarked Dick.

  "You'll have to write about it to the newspaper," put in George. "Whatsport for you to see your name in print!"

  "Go and ask Evans for a box of metal-polish," said Cathy. "I mustcertainly find out what the coins are, they'll fix the date of themound."

  Dick went with a readiness which might have aroused our suspicions, andhung over her shoulder while she rubbed vigorously away at theworn-looking specimens.

  "It's certainly coming off!" she cried with enthusiasm. "Oh, look!There is a mark like a head, and some writing, and--it lookslike--why--why----!"

  She held the coin up critically, and her face fell; as well it might,for when the dirt was cleaned away, there appeared the unmistakableprofile of Queen Victoria, while on the other side was the familiarfigure of Britannia and the remains of the words "Half Penny"!

  "Dick!" cried Cathy with sudden enlightenment.

  But the boys were doubled up in such convulsions of jubilant mirth thatit was a few moments before they could gasp out any remarks.

  "Done you, old girl, for once!" spluttered George.

  "Oh! I really didn't think you'd be taken in by such an easy fake!"shrieked Edward.

  "Made it ourselves," explained Dick, between bursts of chuckles. "Wemodelled it in clay, after the pattern of those pictures in the mater'santiquarian book, and baked it in the oven. Then we crumbled the topaway, and stained the bottom with iron-water, and filled it with pigs'bones and all the oldest coppers we could muster. We didn't bury it toodeep, because we knew you'd never fag to dig half the mound away. I daresay the place _was_ soft! No doubt a rabbit _had_ been burrowing there!Oh, I say! I feel quite weak with laughing!"

  Cathy and I bore our chaffing with the best grace we could.

  "It was really rather clever of them," said Cathy. "Of course it's adreadful sell, but we might find something genuine some day; only thenext time we mean to go hunting for antiquities we won't tell the boysbeforehand!"

  All the same the affair rankled in our minds, and we came to theconclusion that if we could possibly seize an opportunity we should liketo play a trick upon these determined practical jokers, so as to paythem back to some extent in their own coin. It was rather difficult tohit upon anything fresh, Cathy scorning such stale devices as apple-piebeds or stitched-up trousers.

  "Those are as old as the hills," she said. "And would scarcely amusethem. I want to find something quite out of the common, and if possibleto give them a good fright into the bargain."

  "Ghosts,"
I suggested.

  "Um! No. It's rather hard to get up a clever ghost, they find it outdirectly. You see they've done it so often themselves to scare theservants. Stop! I have it! Oh, I've thought of a most glorious idea!Didn't you hear Edward reading out an account from the newspaper thismorning of a robbery at Thistleton Hall? Why shouldn't we have a shamburglar, and rouse them all in the middle of the night? It would make asplendid sensation."

  Mr. and Mrs. Winstanley were away from home, spending a week inScotland, and Edward considered himself to be the head and safeguard ofthe establishment during their absence, so the scheme really seemed veryfeasible.

  "We can dress up the figure of a burglar with some of Father's oldclothes stuffed with straw," said Cathy, "and let it down through thetrap-door in the end bedroom. But first of all we must pave the way.Suppose we were to write a letter to Edward, as if it came from somepoor person, warning him that there's going to be an attack on thehouse? It would make them ever so excited about it first, and thenthey'd fall quite easily into the trap, and be ready to believe thatsomeone was really breaking in. Can you keep the secret, Phil,absolutely tight and safe? We mustn't betray even by a look what we'remeditating."

  "I think I can," I replied. "I'm rather clever at hiding my feelings. Ididn't let George guess last night that I knew where Dick had put hiscricket-cap, though I helped him to look for it everywhere except in theright place."

  We set to work at once so that we might have time to carry out our plansbefore the squire and Mrs. Winstanley returned home. Cathy's letter wasa product of genius. It was written on the thinnest of villagenote-paper, with the vilest and scratchiest of pens; the handwriting wasunformed and scrawling, and the tails of the letters were occasionallysmeared, as if a large and dirty finger had industriously andlaboriously pursued its way along the page. It ran thus, being guiltlessof stops--

  "honered sir "i take up my pen to tel you wot as bin on my mind and i ope you wil not considder it a liburty but Honored Sir i feel it is ony rite to warn you as your pa and ma is away and you the squire as is to be and i dont like to split on my pals but there is some as will ope to find your ouse not two well looked arfter at nite and i can tel you no more at present for i dont want to get into no trubble "this is from "one oo knows"

  She addressed the envelope on the extreme top to--

  "Mister edward winstanly marchelands near evverton",

  put the stamp on upside down at the bottom, smeared the letter with herthumb previously rubbed in the dust-pan, and dropped the epistle herselfinto the village post-box.

  It was extremely difficult to keep our faces the next morning whenEdward opened this strange communication, especially when we saw that hetook it in all seriousness.

  "I say, Dick, look here!" he said, drawing his brother aside. "Just readthis, and see what you make of it. It appears to me there's going to bean attempt to break into the house, and someone has written to warn us.Whom could it possibly be from? There's no name or address on it."

  Dick turned the dirty sheet of paper over and over in his hand, andexamined the envelope closely, but it was evident he could make no moreof it than Edward had done.

  "What's the matter?" asked Cathy innocently. "What are you two puttingyour heads together about?"

  "I don't know whether I ought to tell you girls," said Edward in hismost fatherly manner. "I'm afraid you'll be scared out of your senses.But after all perhaps it's wiser to let you know, for you're both prettyplucky on the whole. Here, you may read the letter."

  We seized it as if we had never seen it in our lives before, and lookedat each other with much apparent consternation.

  "It's certainly meant for a warning," I said gravely.

  "If I were you, Edward," remarked Cathy, "I should put it into the handsof the village constable."

  "Put it into the hands of the village fiddle-stick!" growled Edward."What help would poor old Gaskell be, I should like to know? He'd runaway if he saw the very tail of a burglar. I dare say he's all right tolock up a drunken man on fair-day, or to slip the handcuffs on poacherswhen the gamekeepers are holding them tight, but he'd be of no earthlyuse in a case of this sort. Just you leave it to me. Dick and I willundertake to look after the house. You girls had better lock yourbedroom door to-night; and be sure you don't let the servants get a hintof it, or we shall have them all in hysterics."

  So far our hoax had answered admirably, and Cathy and I retired upstairsafter breakfast in fits of delighted laughter.

  "He looked so solemn over it," chuckled Cathy; "that touch about hisbeing the future squire was most effective. He feels he's quite a manand must defend the family property."

  "I nearly exploded when Dick sniffed the letter, and said he could tellit was written by a clodhopper, because it smelled of their abominabletobacco!" said I.

  "We'd better get on with our burglar," said Cathy. "I have Father's oldtweed suit and his fishing-boots here, and I brought up a whole sackfulof hay yesterday, it's underneath my bed. Have you locked the door? Noone must come in on any account."

  We first securely stitched the coat and trousers together, fastened thetrousers firmly into the fishing-boots, sewed a pair of gloves on to theends of the sleeves to represent hands, and then stuffed the wholefigure tightly with hay. The head was a little more difficult to manage.We tried at first to make it out of a sponge-bag, but that did not seemto answer at all; so in the end Cathy fetched a large mangold out of thefield, which had a warty protuberance on one side very much resembling ahuman nose, and by the aid of two shoe-buttons stuck in with hair-pinsfor eyes, and a slit cut with a penknife for a mouth, we really made avery creditable burglar countenance. We mounted it on a sharpened stick,which we rammed down into the body, crowned it with a soft felt hat,tied a silk handkerchief round its neck to cover up deficiencies, andthen sat down and rejoiced over our handiwork.

  "Doesn't he look a splendid Bill Sykes?" cried Cathy. "In the dark I'msure anyone would think he was real. Those fishing-boots look veryclumping and murderous."

  "He's not very heavy either," I said, lifting the figure easily in myarms, "I think you'll be able to manage him."

  The place where we intended to spring our surprise on the boys was alarge unoccupied bedroom at the end of the passage, generally called the"north room". It had a trap-door in the ceiling which opened out on to aflat roof, and by climbing upon the edge of Cathy's balcony it wasextremely easy to step on to this roof; indeed we had often done so towatch the sunset, or to get a good view of the surrounding country. Wearranged that about midnight Cathy should mount up here, I should thenhand the burglar to her, and after opening the trap-door she shouldallow his legs to dangle through it as though he were in the very actof forcing an entrance into the room. When she was ready I was to givethe alarm, and we trusted that in the faint moonlight the boys would notreadily discover the imposture. We hid "Bill Sykes" safely away underthe bed, and went downstairs again, feeling all impatience for theevening to arrive.

  Edward was extremely particular about locking up that night--he examinedevery bolt and bar, closed all the shutters, put a screw in theback-kitchen window and a wedge in the cellar door, and finally wentround the whole establishment with a lantern, peeping into pantries andchina-closets, and even the housemaid's cupboard under the stairs, tomake quite sure that nobody was concealed there with nefarious intent.He retired to bed at last with a revolver under his pillow; Dick tookthe air-gun, which he had borrowed from Captain Vernon, while George,not being able to obtain any firearms (the squire having wisely lockedup his gun cupboard and taken the key away with him), was obliged tocontent himself with the garden syringe well charged with water, withwhich he could certainly give anyone a decidedly cold reception. It waspast ten o'clock before we were all in our rooms, and Cathy and Idecided that we would not go to bed, as we were much too excited to feelsleepy; so we sat eating apples and reading to pass the time, as we didnot da
re to talk much for fear the boys should overhear us. At tenminutes to twelve we opened our window and looked out. It was abeautiful moonlight night, just bright enough to make the room ratherlight without showing any object too plainly, and nothing could be morefortunate for the success of our plot.

  Cathy climbed cautiously on to the roof, and I managed to hand up theburglar--with some difficulty, I own, for if he were not heavy he wasdecidedly bulky. She had tied a rope under his arms so that she mightdangle him more securely, and she very soon unfastened the trap-door andlet his legs down through the opening.

  "Are you ready?" I called under my breath, as I watched her from thebalcony.

  "Hush! Yes, just got him right!" she whispered; "you may go now.Remember, Edward first!"

  It was an exciting moment. I ran down the passage, and tapped softly atEdward's door.

  "Oh, do come quick!" I said in a low voice, which I am sure must havesounded most agitated. "We've heard such strange noises, and we can'thelp thinking that someone's trying to break into the north room!"

  Edward appeared in an instant, fully dressed, and armed with hisrevolver. I am sure that even if he had lain down on his bed, he hadneither removed his clothes nor closed his eyes. He looked rather white,but I must say very determined and self-possessed.

  "Have you roused the others?" he whispered. "Don't make any noise, andperhaps we may be able to catch him. You'd better go back to Cathy, andboth of you stay in your room. This thing's not fit for girls, and youmight get hurt."

  Dick and George, who slept in the adjoining bedroom, arrived on thescene with equal promptitude, and the three crept silently down thepassage, while I, after pretending to retire, followed at a littledistance to watch the fun. Arrived at the north room they noiselesslyopened the door, and sprang back for a moment, looking rather aghast,for dangling through the opening in the roof appeared the largefishing-boots of our burglar, moving about in such a natural andlifelike manner, that it was no wonder the boys were deceived.

  "Hullo! Who's that?" cried Edward in a firm tone, levelling his revolverat the figure.

  The legs twitched, and came slightly lower, so that a portion of thebody might be seen through the trap-door.

  "Stop, or I'll fire!" declared Dick, with a suspicious little quaver inhis voice.

  "If you move an inch, I'll kill you!" roared valiant George, though hisweapon was certainly the least deadly of the three.

  Cathy let the burglar down a good piece, so that his head and his felthat now appeared, while his arms seemed to be waving about in a wilddemonstration of defiance. Bang! went both revolver and air-gun at thesame instant, while the syringe discharged its contents freely over theroom, George in his agitation having somewhat miscalculated his aim.Cathy loosed the rope, and "Bill Sykes" dropped with a heavy plump on tothe floor below, his mangold head striking the bed-post with greatviolence. A dead silence followed.

  "Have we done for him, or is he only foxing?" whispered George.

  Cathy from above uttered a low groan.

  "He's still alive!" gasped Dick.

  "Ay, but he's hurt," said Edward. "We'd better see what damage is done.Be ready, Dick, to hold his legs, in case he should jump up suddenly."

  They advanced with extreme caution towards the figure, which laystretched out in a most natural manner, face downwards, in the patch ofmoonlight which fell through the window. Dick seized the fishing-boots,and held them securely while Edward made a firm grasp at the arm.Perhaps something in its consistency felt unusual, for with a cry heturned the burglar over. The sudden movement loosened the mangold head,which we had not been able to fasten on very securely, and, rolling offwith a bound, it fell at the feet of the astounded George.

  A yell of disgusted wrath arose from the indignant boys, and I could notforbear to run into the room, clapping my hands in my glee, while Cathypeered down through the trap-door in rejoicing triumph.

  "Done you this time, old fellows!" cried Cathy.

  "Oh, I didn't think you'd be taken in by such an easy fake!" I echoed.

  "Made it ourselves!" exploded Cathy from above. "Only Father's old suitstuffed with hay! And you thought you had done for him! I think I couldtell you who sent that letter if you were to ask me!"

  "Come down, you young wretch!" said Edward. "If you let yourself drop,I'll catch you. Well, of all the sells I've ever had in my life, this isabout the biggest. So you wrote that precious letter, did you? It wasuncommonly smartly done, too! And as for this countenance, it's simplyripping!"

  And he burst into a roar as he picked up the head of our decapitatedhouse-breaker.

  I really think the boys laughed as much as we did, for they weregood-natured enough not to mind a joke at their own expense.

  "You've jolly well taken us in for once," said Dick. "And I give you thecredit for it. I didn't think you girls could have got it all up soneatly. You've scored no end, and I suppose now you'll be satisfied, andcry quits about the antiquities."