it was a still, dark night when two short figures, each carrying a bundle, stole away from northbourne, skirting brattlesby woods, and making for the old london road.
the fugitives were alick carnegy and ned dempster, and each was trying his hardest to prevent his companion from hearing the choking sobs that could not be kept down.
all boys, of course, secretly believe that it is a fine, manly thing to run away to sea. from time immemorial it has sounded so well—in fiction. is there a boy breathing who has not pictured himself, free as a bird on the wing, shaking off the trammels of home in this fashion? but the grim reality was an altogether different matter to the couple of friends who were setting forth under cover of darkness. for one thing, alick, who hated anything underhand, was thoroughly ashamed of sneaking away in the night. that in itself distinctly took away from the dash and glory of the affair.
in addition, he felt himself groping in a fog of misery. nevermore, he felt convinced, would he see his gentle, loving sister in this life; and he shivered uncontrollably as he thought that, but for his absence in her hour of peril, theo would be as well and strong as anybody—as, for instance, little queenie, upon whom the accident had left no evil effects.
before and behind, life was grim and stripped of hope for both the boy-adventurers as they plunged along the high road. they were too intensely miserable to look forward to the future. all they were intent on was to escape from the dreaded consequences of their misdoings.
it is hard work travelling with a heart of lead in one's bosom—
'a merry heart goes all the day,
your sad tires in a mile-a.'
still, the two trudged on, mile after mile, until when the dawn stole up the sky they found themselves on the outskirts of a country town at a considerable distance from northbourne. having but a few shillings, belonging to alick, they had decided to walk every step of the road to london docks. in the dim grey light from the east they saw, to their astonishment, large looming vans and many blurred forms, all in busy motion. there seemed to be, as it were, a commotion of shadows.
'what on earth is it, ned? they look like ghosts flitting about!' alick said, half fearfully.
'no! they ain't ghosts!' slowly rejoined ned, after a prolonged stare. 'i'll tell you what it means. tis a circus, or mayhap a wild-beast show, or somethin' of that sort. they're carryvans, leastways, and they're makin' an early start. depend on it, that's what 'tis, muster alick!'
alick whistled.
'i shouldn't wonder, ned. you've just hit it. it's a circus! let's go closer. who knows but they might give us a lift on the road to london!'
ned shook his head; he was extremely doubtful as to that. such civility was not by any means the rule of the road.
as the boys drew nearer, they felt sure it must be a wild-beast show, from the rumble of subdued roars, as if from pent-up animals, and the chatter of birds that resounded from the depths of the caravans in which the inmates were, evidently, disturbed from their slumbers by the early move. horses were being put to, and men were running to and fro, but alick and ned felt shy of accosting any one of them.
they hung back and watched eagerly.
'hilloa, you two shavers! whatever do you want loafing round here at this time o' morning? say, can't yer?'
the shrill, loud voice came from the window of a house-caravan, and a woman's head, stuck all over with curl-papers, was thrust out to stare intently at the new-comers.
'we are going up to london—on business,' said alick, mustering up courage, and speaking as manfully as he could. 'and,' he moved up closer to say, 'we thought that, perhaps, you would give us a lift as far as you could. i'll give you a shilling!'
the boy spoke with the air as though shillings were plentiful enough. but, in truth, he had only two half-crowns of his own in the world; they were the entire amount of his savings, which he had brought on setting forth in life.
the woman with the curl-papers stared hard down at the two young strangers before she answered, not so ill-naturedly—
'well, i don't much mind, if so be as one of you gits on these yer steps, and has a ride along of us. the t'other can git on to one of the beasteses' vans at the back. 'twon't break no bones if you do, as i can see.' with a reassuring nod, she then withdrew her curl-papers into the interior of her moving home.
'you'd best go aside her, i suppose, muster alick,' whispered ned. 'i'll hang on to that van yonder;' and he took himself off in the direction to which the woman had seemed to point.
'the missus said as i might have a ride on the back of this van,' said he, meekly enough, to a man in his shirt-sleeves, who was too busy with the bars of the van to look up at the speaker.
'all right! if so be as she says so, it's got to be, i reckon!' he growled; and ned swung himself up behind, trying hard to make out, as the procession moved off slowly and ponderously at last, what sort of beasts were on the other side of the boards he was leaning against. suppose they were lions, or suppose the boards got loose? the fisher-lad, whom storm and tempest on the deep could not dismay, felt a bit creepy. setting his ear close to the wood, he could distinctly hear hideous growls, as if some savage creature, maddened by hunger, were ready to break out and leap upon him. what would granny say if she could dream of his situation? but dashing his hand across his sleepy eyes, ned hastily told himself there must be no harking back, no thinking of what granny or anybody else at northbourne would say or do. it must be good-bye, for ever, to the old life. the motion of the van, the rest after the long tramp, alike caused the country-bred boy to nod sleepily as he clung to his perch.
presently, he was back again in northbourne. it was sunday afternoon, and, dressed in his best, the fisher-boy stood up straight in class to repeat his hymn to his earnest-eyed, sweet-faced teacher, 'miss theedory.' and the words he fought sleepily to remember must have been born of his nearness to the growling monsters within the caravan—
'christian, dost thou see them
on the holy ground,
how the troops of midian
prowl and prowl around?'
