"Tek my advice, ma'am, an' eat while ye're in t' humor," cried Mrs.

Bolland, instantly helping her guest to the eatables named.

Mrs. Saumarez laughed delightedly and peeled off a pair of white kid gloves. She ate a little of the meat and crumbled a slice of bread.

Mrs. Bolland refilled the gla.s.s with beer.

Then the lady made herself generally popular by asking questions. Did they use lard or b.u.t.ter in the pastry? How was the sponge cake made so light? What a curious custom it was to put currants into plain dough; she had never seen it done before. Were the servants able to do these things, or had they to be taught by the mistress of the house? She amused the women by telling of the airs and graces of London domestics, and evoked a feeling akin to horror by relating the items of the weekly bills in her town house.

"Seven pund o' becan for breakfast i' t' kitchen!" exclaimed Mrs.

Summersgill. "Whe ivver heerd tell o' sike waste?"

"Eh, ma'am," cried another, "but ye mun addle yer money aisy t' let 'em carry on that gait."

Martin, who found Angle in her most charming mood--unconsciously pleased, too, that her costume was not so _outr_ as to run any risk of caustic comment by strangers--came in and asked if he might take her along the row of stalls. Mrs. Bolland had given him a shilling that morning, and he resolved magnanimously to let the shooting gallery wait; Angle should be treated to a shilling's worth of aught she fancied.

But Mrs. Saumarez rose.

"Your mother will kill me with kindness, Martin, if I remain longer,"

she said. "Take me, too, and we'll see if the fair contains any toys."

She emptied the second gla.s.s of ale, drew on her gloves, bade the company farewell with as much courtesy as if they were so many countesses, and walked away with the youngsters.

At one stall she bought Martin a pneumatic gun, a powerful toy which the dealer never expected to sell in that locality. At another she would have purchased a doll for Angle, but the child shrugged her shoulders and declared that she would greatly prefer to ride on the roundabouts with Martin. Mrs. Saumarez agreed instantly, and the pair mounted the hobby-horses.

Among the children who watched them enviously were Jim Bates and Evelyn Atkinson. When the steam organ was in full blast and the horses were flying round at a merry pace, Mrs. Saumarez bent over Jim Bates and placed half a sovereign in his hand.

"Go to the 'Black Lion,'" she said, "and bring me a bottle of the best brandy. See that it is wrapped in paper. I do not care to go myself to a place where there are so many men."

Jim darted off. The roundabout slackened speed and stopped, but Mrs.

Saumarez ordered another ride. The whirl had begun again when Bates returned with a parcel.

"It was four shillin's, ma'am," he said.

"Thank you, very much. Keep the change."

Even Evelyn Atkinson was so awed by the magnitude of the tip that she forgot for a moment to glue her eyes on Angle and Martin.

But Angle, wildly elated though she was with the sensation of flight, and seated astride like a boy, until the tops of her stockings were exposed to view, did not fail to notice the conclusion of Jim Bates's errand.

"Mamma will be ill to-night," she screamed in Martin's ear. "Franoise will be busy waiting on her. I'll come out again at eight o'clock."

"You must not," shouted the boy. "It will be very rough here then."

"C'la va--I mean, I know that quite well. It'll be all the more jolly.

Meet me at the gate. I'll bring plenty of money."

"I can't," protested Martin.

"You must!"

"But I'm supposed to be home myself at eight o'clock."

"If you don't come, I'll find some other boy. Frank Beckett-Smythe said he would try and turn up every evening, in case I got a chance to sneak out."

"All right. I'll be there."

Martin intended to hurry her through the fair and take her home again.

If he received a "hiding" for being late, he would put up with it. In any case, the squire's eldest son could not be allowed to steal his wilful playmate without a struggle. Probably Adam reasoned along similar lines when Eve first offered him an apple. Be that as it may, it never occurred to Martin that the third chapter of Genesis could have the remotest bearing on the night's frolic.

CHAPTER V

"IT IS THE FIRST STEP THAT COUNTS"

Mrs. Saumarez and Angle returned to The Elms, but Martin had to forego accompanying them. He knew that--with Bible opened at the Third Book of Kings--John Bolland was waiting in a bedroom, every downstairs apartment being crowded.

He ran all the way along the village street and darted upstairs, striving desperately to avoid even the semblance of undue haste. Bolland was thumbing the book impatiently. He frowned over his spectacles.

"Why are ye late?" he demanded.

"Mrs. Saumarez asked me to walk with her through the village," answered Martin truthfully.

"Ay. T' wife telt me she was here."

The explanation served, and Martin breathed more freely. The reading commenced:

"Now king David was old and stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he gat no heat.

"Wherefore his servants said unto him, Let there be sought for my lord the king a young virgin: and let her stand before the king, and let her cherish him, and let her lie in thy bosom, that my lord the king may get heat."

Martin, with his mind in a tumult on account of the threatened escapade, did not care a pin what method was adopted to restore the feeble circulation of the withered King so long as the lesson pa.s.sed off satisfactorily.

With rare self-control, he bent over the, to him, unmeaning page, and acquitted himself so well in the parrot repet.i.tion which he knew would be pleasing that he ventured to say:

"May I stay out a little later to-night, sir?"

"What for? You're better i' bed than gapin' at shows an' listenin' te drunken men."

"I only ask because--because I'm told that Mrs. Saumarez's little girl means to see the fair by night, and she--er--would like me to be with her."

John Bolland laughed dryly.

"Mrs. Saumarez'll soon hev more'n eneuf on't," he said. "Ay, lad, ye can stay wi' her, if that's all."

Martin never, under any circ.u.mstances, told a downright lie, but he feared that this was sailing rather too near the wind to be honest. The nature of Angle's statement was so nebulous. He could hardly explain outright that Mrs. Saumarez was not coming--that Angle alone would be the sightseer. So he flushed, and felt that he was obtaining the required permission by false pretense. He could have pulled Angle's pretty ears for placing him in such a dilemma, but with a man so utterly unsympathetic as Bolland it was impossible to be quite candid.

He had clear ideas of right and wrong. He knew it was wrong for Angle to come out unattended and mix in the scene of rowdyism which the village would present until midnight. If she really could succeed in leaving The Elms unnoticed, the most effectual way to stop her was to go now to her mother or to one of the Misses Walker and report her intention. But this, according to the boy's code of honor, was to play the sneak, than which there is no worse crime in the calendar. No. He would look after her himself. There was a spice of adventure, too, in acting as the chosen squire of this sprightly damsel. Strong-minded as he was, and resolute beyond his years, Angle's wilfulness, her quick tongue, the diablerie of her glance, the witchery of her elegant little person, captivated heart and brain, and benumbed the inchoate murmurings of conscience.