The Cuckoo Tree (14 page)

For it was plain that by Lady Tegleaze, by Cousin Wilfred, and by Gusset, Cris had been unhesitatingly accepted. The two witches, biting their lips with chagrin, were quarreling in furious undertones. Frill, Pelmett, and the Colonel, pale and angry, were on the point of quitting the room when Lady Tegleaze said to Cris,

"Now, tell me, what do you want, dear child? What do you need? Food, clothes—er, toys?"

"Nothing, thank you, my lady," Cris said politely, "only—"

"Call me Grandmother!" snapped the old lady. "Only? Well, what?"

"Only to see my brother Tobit."

"Oh,
that
is quite out of the question. He has done for himself. I've washed my hands of
him.
"

"But, Lady Tegleaze," said Dido, "I'm sure as ninepence he didn't steal those fish. They was palmed off on him. Arter all, who in the name o' thunder would be so totty-headed as to stick a pair o' goldfish in his britches pocket?"

"Whether he stole them or not, it is all one. If he had not disobeyed me and gone to Petworth, he would not have
exposed himself to such a risk. I have no more interest in him. If he is sent to Botany Bay it is no concern of mine."

"But, Grandmother—" Cris began.

"No more, miss!"

Botheration, thought Dido. What an old tarmigan. This alters the look o' matters.

She had expected that, in gratitude for the production of Cris, Lady Tegleaze would be prepared to exert herself on Tobit's behalf, but plainly that was not going to happen.

Murmuring, "Well, enjoy yourself, Cris, see you Turpentine Sunday," Dido slipped away, following the Colonel who, without noticing her, had walked rapidly to the back stairs, down them, and out along the path to the tilting-yard.

The pale moon was beginning to struggle out, throwing long spindly shadows on the mist. Dido saw another shadow, with its owner, move out from one of the yew trees.

"Well?" Dido recognized the grating tone of Miles Mystery. "How did it g-go? Will the boy get a stiff sentence? How did the old lady take the n-news?"

"Oh, as expected. But—"

"But what?" Mystery said sharply.

"Our plans are overset. Another grandchild has turned up."

"Devil take it! What are you telling me? How can there be another grandchild?"

"It seems there was a twin sister of Tobit, mislaid or farmed out in infancy. Those two old hags, Sannie and Mrs. Lubbage, have been playing deuce-ace with us—they
knew of this other child all along, and planned to demand a handsome sum from Lady Tegleaze as the price for producing her when Tobit was knocked out of the game."

"Wait till I lay my hands on the d-double-dealing old witches! They'll reckon that money hard-earned!"

"But they never got the money!"

"S-so? Why not?"

"That strange child—the one who is lodging at Dog kennel with the navy captain—
she
suddenly sprang the plot and produced the missing grandchild."

"How in Lucifer's name did she know about it?"

"Lord knows. We shall have to do something about her. She may know too much for comfort."

"Not only her. We shall have to get rid of the other grandchild."

"How?"

"If she was lost once—she m-must be lost again."

Dido's blood ran cold at the calm way in which Miles Mystery uttered these words. Plainly the Colonel also felt a qualm for he said,

"No violence, Tuggles. You know I draw the line at violence. It's too dangerous."

"Oh, call me Tegleaze! It is my name, after all. Hark, what was that?"

Dido held her breath. Had they seen her, crouching by the hedge? But then she saw Mrs. Lubbage and Tante Sannie, still bickering angrily, come down the steps and start to cross the lawn. They had not noticed the two men, and appeared somewhat confused when Colonel
FitzPickwick accosted them.

"A f-fine trick you played us, you miserable pair of old scarecrows!" Mr. Mystery exclaimed angrily. "You needn't think I'll stir myself to send you to Tiburon Island
now.
Pretending to help us with Tobit and the old lady—and all the time you had another grandchild hidden up your sleeves!"

"Is not pretending!" Sannie said fiercely. "
Is
helping! Number two grandchild—pooh! T'ousand pound in pocket, why not, then get rid, easy as Tobit."

"Only you didn't get the thousand pounds," Mr. Mystery pointed out unkindly. "And
I'm
not weeping millstones—you deceitful pair of old crows! Well, you can whistle for your great white ship to Tiburon after that—you'll not get it from me, even when I come in to the estate."

"Just you bide a minute, you fine Mr. Mystery!" hissed Sannie, scuttling after him like a scorpion as he turned away. "You cast us off now, you fine fellow, you be sad and sorry, afore long soon, when the ground gape black under you foot, when the water snatch you in she claws, when the luck-piece hang over you head and you can't reach!"

"Best keep the old beldames in a good humor," Colonel FitzPickwick urged in a low tone.

Mystery jerked his head reluctantly. The two men and the two old women were slowly moving away, their unnaturally long shadows trailing behind them on the mist like black wings.

"Drat!" said Dido. "I wish I could a heard a bit more."

She ran softly across the lawn, but the two couples had separated, and the men were mounting horses in the stable-yard.

Slowly and thoughtfully, Dido made her way home. As she neared Dogkennel Cottages she recalled Mrs. Lubbage's make-believe dragon, and quailed a little at the thought of what might be in store for her tonight. But whatever it is, I'll just throw a rock at it, she decided.

Tonight there was no dragon, nor was Mrs. Lubbage herself to be seen. Suspicious of the silence and darkness, remembering Mrs. Lubbage's broken lock, Dido approached her own cottage and looked for the key under the stone. But the key was not there. A glimmer of candlelight showed in the window and the door was open. Surely it was late for Mr. Firkin still to be sitting with the Captain.

Dido pushed the door back and went in.

Mr. Firkin was not there. Instead, Mrs. Lubbage and Tante Sannie were sitting in silence, one on either side of the Captain's bed. He did not stir as Dido entered; he appeared to be sleeping.

A dreadful apprehension filled her; she darted forward to the bed and leaned over it.

"Cap'n! Cap'n Hughes! Are you all right?"

He neither moved nor stirred. The sharp eyes of Tante Sannie and Mrs. Lubbage moved up and fixed on Dido like pins in a map.

"Cap'n Hughes! Please say summat!" She shook him a little, but he did not answer. He breathed, but only just; his mouth was a little open, his face deadly pale, what
could be seen of it under the bandages.

"If you've killed him, you old—" burst out Dido, choking with grief and terror, "if you've hurted him—Oh, what have you
done
to him? What'll happen to him?"

"Wait and see, Miss Prussy! Wait and see!" Mrs. Lubbage gave Dido a look of malignant satisfaction. "And maybe this'll teach ye a lesson not to be so quick to meddle in other folks' concerns! Come, Sannie; us'll leave, eh, now the fine young lady's come a-home.
She
can look arter him."

Dido hardly noticed when they left. She was frantically rubbing the Captain's cold hands. She filled a stone bottle with hot ginger ale and put it to his feet; she mixed a mustard plaster and laid it on his stomach; she fetched in a bundle of chicken feathers and set light to them, filling the room with foul-smelling fumes; she tickled his feet and held a warm flatiron to them, and sprinkled snuff under his nose. None of these remedies had the least effect; the Captain continued to lie still as a log, hardly alive, yet not quite dead.

In despair, Dido went and roused Mr. Firkin who came quickly when she had made him understand the gravity of the case. He felt the Captain all over with careful, wise old hands.

"Arr; she've overlooked him, surelye. Deary me, darter, that
is
misfortunate, just when he was a-coming along so nimbly."

"Is he dying?" asked Dido, gulping.

"Nay, I wouldn't say that, darter, not here-an-nows. But die he may, don't she take the spell off'n him again. He
can't eat, see, not while he be thisaway; he be like to starve."

"What'll I do?" Dido muttered, half to herself.

"Ee'll have to eat humble pie, darter; I dunno how ee harmed owd Mis' Lubbage, but ee'll have to undo it, and ask her to take off the overlooking."

"She never would. And I never would," said Dido flatly. "It didn't even
advantage
her any to hurt the Cap'n; she just did it out o' pure malicefulness. I'll cure him somehow. Or I'll
make
her take the spell off. Anyways, I don't believe in spells!" She was half crying.

"Well, darter, us'll try this and us'll try that. A drop o' Blue Ruin wi' red pepper in it works wonders for my old ewes, time they suffers from the sheepshrink; I'll see how that gooes down."

It did go down; and the Captain blinked, as if it had given him a lively minute's dream; but it did not rouse him.

"Anyhows, that shows we can feed him," said Dido, recovering, and rather ashamed of her loss of control. "Why, when I was in a swound on board the whaler they fed me for nigh on ten months with whale oil and molasses. I'll get some molasses in Petworth tomorrow."

"Music," muttered Mr. Firkin. "Music be a powerful strong tonic agin sorcery and spells. I dunno why but so 'tis. I'll sing the Cap'n a shanty or two."

"Just afore you gets going," said Dido, visited by a sudden idea, "Mr. Firkin, does you have sich a thing as a corkscrew?"

Mr. Firkin, who had opened his mouth to sing, paused in mid breath.

"A twistycork, darter? Surelye. Look ee in the chest in my tool shed, ee'll find one there." He filled his lungs again.

Dido found the corkscrew, whispered to the Rio-bound Mr. Firkin that she would be back in twenty minutes or so, and set off at a fast run for the Cuckoo Tree.

The next day dawned gloomy and lowering. Dido awoke very dejected. Captain Hughes still lay in the same stupor; his condition had not changed despite all Mr. Firkin's songs; and she could not help blaming herself bitterly. Supposing he
never
recovered? And what other forms might Mrs. Lubbage's ill will take? Suppose the witches made Cris's life miserable at Tegleaze Manor? Suppose they prevented the Dispatch from reaching London?

Trying to shake off these thoughts, she gave Dapple an extra handful of feed.

"Eat up, old mate, us has to go into Petworth and get some spermaceti and treacle."

Just before she left, Gusset arrived with more provisions and a bottle of blackberry wine.

"Old Lady Tegleaze be rare and spry," he told Dido. "Reckon she thinks a granddaughter be a better bargain than a grandson."

"How's Cris settling?"

"A mite peaky and homesick; it do all seem turble big
and grand to her, poor young maidy. How be the Cap'n?"

When Dido told Gusset what had happened he shook his head in an anxious and gloomy manner, and promised to send Dr. Subito as soon as possible.

"Though I doubt he'll not be able to do anything, missie; old Mis' Lubbage's spells be desprit powerful when she's roused, 'tis better to keep on the right side of her, or she can do deadly harm. I know, who better." A shadow passed over his aged face.

"I've got to get him away from here," Dido said, biting her lip with anxiety. "You don't think Frill or Pelmett'd help—I could borrow the trap and take him to an inn—he can't be wuss off than he is here."

"Pelmett's gone, missie."

"Gone? When?"

"Said he had an offer of a sitiwation wi' better pay and took his bundle and went off last night."

"Sounds a bit havey-cavey? What about Frill?"

"I doubt he be going to follow. We shan't miss 'em, they warn't much use."

Gusset took his leave, casting a wary eye in the direction of Mrs. Lubbage's house, and promising he would ask about the trap. But, he said, he thought it very unlikely that Lady Tegleaze would be willing to lend it.

Dido left the Captain in the care of Mr. Firkin, who usually spent Saturday cleaning his cottage. Dido promised to do this when she returned, and also to buy him some provisions.

When she reached Petworth, she could not help noticing that it seemed to be in an extreme state of turmoil and uproar. People were rushing hither and thither, up and down the streets, in what seemed a purposeless way, like ants when their nest has been disturbed.

Dido stopped a man and asked him in which street the Magistrates' Court was to be found. He gave her a blank stare and replied,

"What's the use o' that, pray? It's gone. No use locking the stable door arter the horse has skedaddled," and strode away.

When she inquired of another he replied, "They sat early. The Court's closed now."

"Why? They was due to sit at ten; 'tis only quarter to, now."

But the man had not waited; he was roaming up the street, peering into every cranny as if he expected to find an emerald brooch there.

Dido noticed a remarkable number of constables about, too, whose behavior was of the same wandering kind; they stopped, they started, poked with their staffs in flower beds and window boxes, rummaged in the baskets of goods exhibited for sale outside shops.

Out of patience at last, Dido went to the apothecary's, bought a pound of spermaceti and a gallon of treacle, and asked Mr. Pelmett what the mischief was the matter with everybody, and why had the Magistrates' Court sat early?

"Constabulary was needed elsewhere," Mr. Pelmett said
curtly. He looked, Dido thought, put out about something; had a face as long as a rolling pin.

"What for?"

"Every man jack of them's out looking for the Tegleaze heirloom."

"W-what?" gasped Dido. "You mean—"

"It's been stolen."

"But I thought the glass case was burglar proof."

"It was cut by a diamond. Expert cracksmen have been at work."

"My stars," muttered Dido. "Here's a fine flummeration. I spose that perishing Mystery decided he better get his paws on it right away, without waiting for any more hocus-pocus over grandchildren. I'd dearly like to know who that Mystery
is
—a-calling of himself Tegleaze and a-reckoning to polish off heirs right, left, and rat's ramble—it's plain he's close connected with the family someway."