Chapter XIV: Theodore Has His Own Way

"Do you know the Naraton blacksmith?" Mrs. Barton enquired of her husband, the morning following that on which the boys had spent an hour in Seth Stanley's company.

"Yes," he replied; "but why do you ask? He is a powerful-looking fellow, with a dark, grave face. I am informed he is as honest as the day—a somewhat unusual characteristic for one of his class. He is a gipsy."

"So Theodore and Jack said. They held quite a long conversation with him yesterday, during which he seems to have related his family history to them," and Mrs. Barton repeated all the boys had told her.

Her husband listened with interest, and said he believed it was perfectly true that Seth Stanley's father had been a convict, who had died at Princetown Prison. Every one spoke well of the blacksmith, though some said he had a religious mania. On hearing that Mrs. Barton smiled involuntarily.

"What is the meaning of that smile, Mary?" her husband asked. "What are you thinking."

"That people are always ready to call those they cannot understand a little mad," she responded. "You know St. Paul had to hear the same thing said about him. You remember the remark of Festus: 'Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad.' I daresay the blacksmith is no more mad than St. Paul was."

"I think you are very likely right. Anyway, I have not the least objection to the boys talking to him if they please; they will hear nothing wrong from his lips, of that I am certain."

Mrs. Barton was perfectly satisfied after that, and told Theodore and Jack that her husband had a very high opinion of the blacksmith, believing him to be a good, honest man.

For several days Theodore never mentioned the Hermit's Cave, and Jack refrained from reminding him of it, thinking that perhaps, on further consideration, his stepbrother might have come to the conclusion to let the proposed expedition drop. But he was wrong. Theodore still meant to go. He was merely waiting for settled weather, for it had been very showery during the past few days.

One morning when the boys were getting up, Theodore, looking out of the window, saw that the sky was cloudless and a faint blue mist hung over the hills—the promise of a fine day.

"I think the weather looks more settled, don't you, Jack?" he questioned eagerly.

"Yes," Jack assented. "Mr. Fry said last night he thought we were going to have a change, because the distant Tors looked so far away— that shows fine weather, he says. When you come to think of it, we have been able to see a long way off lately."

"So we have. I remember father pointing out the cattle on the sides of the hills, and he said they were miles and miles from us really. Look, Jack, you can hardly see more than a short way to-day."

Jack joined his brother at the window, and gazed upon the beautiful scene that stretched before his eyes—the little village near by, with its old grey church, and beyond, the wide ranges of the hills, with their Tors composed of granite on the crests of the broad moorland. The veil of soft blue mist was rising slowly, and leaving the overlooking hills bathed in dazzling sunshine.

"Oh, Theo!" cried Jack softly, "isn't it lovely? What does it remind you of?"

"It doesn't remind me of anything," said Theodore, in matter-of-fact tones; "but it is fine, isn't it? How sweet and fresh the air is," he added, leaning out of the window which he had opened wide, and sniffing appreciatively.

"But doesn't the sight of the hills remind you of a verse in the Psalms?"

"No. What verse do you mean?"

"This one: I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help."

"Oh, yes! of course."

Theodore looked at his stepbrother in an absentminded manner, as though his thoughts were far away, which they actually were.

"What are you thinking about?" Jack enquired, noting the other's abstraction.

"About the Hermit's Cave. It looks a good distance away to-day, but it's only about four miles. I asked Seth Stanley how far it was, and he told me. He said he had often walked there, and it never took him more than an hour and a half, although it's a rough journey. You keep on the main road for a bit, and then turn off to the right. There's no real road leading up the hill, only a little path, and it's very rugged on account of the granite; but Seth says, if you fix your eyes on the Tor and make for it as straight as a crow flies, you can't go far wrong. If the weather is really settled, we ought to go some day soon."

"Four miles is a long way, isn't it, Theo?"

"Oh, no! At least it's a good walk, of course; but we shall be able to have a nice rest when we get to the Hermit's Cave, before returning home. I've planned everything. If we start early in the afternoon, we shall be home long before dark."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes; quite sure!" Theodore returned in a sanguine tone. "If Seth Stanley takes an hour and a half to walk there, we shall do it easily in about two hours, have a good while at the Cave, and walk home quietly after tea. We'll tell Mrs. Fry we're going to have a picnic to ourselves, and get her to give us some cake to put in our pockets. But we shall have to wait for an opportunity of going, when the others are out of the way."

"I heard father tell mother he wanted to drive her to Dartmeet the first fine afternoon," Jack said, entering into his stepbrother's plan, though with some doubts in his mind as to its being quite right; "we might go then. But how about Jane? If mother's away, she'll be sure to want to keep us near her."

"Oh, we'll manage old Jane!" Theodore cried lightheartedly, delighted to find Jack was not going to raise any objections. "You leave her to me."

Whilst they were at breakfast that morning, Mr. Barton spoke of the proposed drive to Dartmeet, saying that Mr. Fry had kindly volunteered to lend Boxer and the gig for the occasion.

"So if the weather remains fine, as I believe it will, we'll go to-morrow, Mary," he said to his wife. "You and I will have a quiet picnic by ourselves."

"That will be very nice," Mrs. Barton replied, smiling. Then her eyes met Theodore's, fixed upon her with a look of eager anxiety which she failed to understand, but fancied that perhaps he was disappointed at the idea of having to remain at home; and her kind heart prompted her to turn to her husband and ask, "How about the boys?"

"Oh, they will be all right, Mary!" he answered promptly. "They can't come to any harm here."

"No; but the gig is so roomy, don't you think—"

"I don't want to go to Dartmeet," Theodore interrupted hastily, turning very red.

"Nor do I," Jack added, flushing also, and carefully avoiding his mother's eyes.

"That's all right, then," Mr. Barton remarked easily. "The gig is certainly a large one, and Boxer is a powerful horse; but it would be a crush if we took you boys with us."

The following day was beautifully fine; and after an early dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Barton started for their drive. The boys watched the departure, and as soon as the gig was out of sight, looked at each other with meaning smiles.

"We ought to get away as soon as we possibly can," Theodore said, "but we must find out what Jane means to do."

"She's in her own room sewing now," Jack returned, "because as I came downstairs the door was ajar, and I saw her. Don't you think we'd better slip off without letting her know?"

"No," Theodore replied decidedly, after a moment's reflection; "you wait for me here, and I'll go and speak to her."

Theodore accordingly ran upstairs, calling upon Jane, who answered him from her bedroom, telling him to come in. She was seated nearing the window, engaged in darning stockings. "What a deal of work you and Master Jack make for me!" she exclaimed, indicating a great hole in the stocking she had pulled over her left hand, and looking good-humouredly at her little master.

"I am very sorry, Jane," he responded, with unusual meekness in his tone, "but things wear out very quickly, don't they?"

"I should think they do, especially when they belong to someone who's always climbing trees, or crawling on his hands and knees up hedges, or falling into ditches," she reminded him, casting an affectionate glance at the little figure now hovering around her dressing-table. "What are you doing, Master Theodore?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," he answered evasively, which was not true, for, without being seen, he had managed to convey a box of matches from the dressing-table to the pocket of his trousers. "I came to know what you intend to do this afternoon, Jane," he added. "Are you going out?"

"I'll take you and Master Jack for a nice long walk presently, but I must finish these stockings first. You can wait for me in the parlour," she told him.

"Will you be long?" Theodore asked, feeling for the first time a little hypocritical as he put the question.

"Oh, about half an hour."

"Very well."

Theodore retired, closing the door gently behind him. Then he rushed downstairs and joined Jack, who was waiting for him, looking decidedly uneasy, having been thinking matters over.

"It's all right," Theodore told him, reassuringly. "She won't be ready to go out for half an hour and by that time we shall have gone a good way. Come and let us ask Mrs. Fry to give us some cake to put in our pockets."

"But won't Jane wonder where we are?"

"Of course she will."

"Perhaps she'll be angry."

"I daresay."

"Oh, Theo, ought we to do it, do you think?" Jack asked in a troubled tone.

"You're surely not going to cry off now!" Theodore exclaimed in disgust, his eyes sparkling with anger.

"No, no. But I thought Jane might be frightened when she found us gone, and—and—" Jack paused, stammering and flushing beneath his stepbrother's scornful look.

"And—and—," Theodore mimicked impatiently. "What a coward you are. Look here, Jack, do you mean to go with me, or don't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes, Theo," the other answered quickly, "I do."

"Because if you don't want to come, say so and stay at home. Don't come and then say I made you."

"Of course I shouldn't do that. I—I want to go with you. I do really."

"Very well. We must start as soon as ever we can. Come along."

Theodore led the way to the kitchen, and from thence into the dairy, where they found Mrs. Fry skimming the cream from a pan of milk.

"Well, my dears," she said, turning at the sound of their footsteps on the slated floor; "so you've not gone to Dartmeet?"

"No, Mrs. Fry," Theodore returned, "but Jack and I are going to have a little picnic by ourselves, and we thought perhaps you would be so kind as to let us have some cake to take with us."

"To be sure," the good woman responded briskly; "you had an early dinner, and will be hungry long before tea-time I've no doubt. But you must wait whilst I finish taking the cream from this pan of milk. I don't suppose you're in a hurry."

The boys could not contradict her, so there was no alternative but to stand quietly by until she had finished her task. Then they returned with her to the kitchen, where she produced a large, home-made cake from a cupboard, and cutting off two substantial hunches, wrapped them in paper, and handed one to each boy. They thanked her gratefully, and, slipping out of the back door, made their way across the yard, where they encountered the farmer with Help at his heels as usual. The boys hurried past him with a few words to the effect that they were starting for a long walk. Mr. Fry stopped, and stared after them, wondering why they were in such a hurry, and where they were going.

"The half hour must be nearly up," Theodore said, glancing over his shoulder nervously, as though he expected to see someone coming to stop them, as he closed the yard gate after following Jack into the road. "Jane's window is at the other side of the house, luckily. She won't catch us now."

"No," Jack agreed, rather breathlessly. "I don't think we need walk quite so fast."

Accordingly they slackened their pace, and proceeded at a more moderate rate. Their spirits rose as they left Blackburn Farm further behind them, and realised that there was now no chance of their being stopped. The afternoon was before them to spend as it suited their pleasure; and with the grey-topped Tor in the distance as the goal of their ambition, they took the road with merry hearts, determined to find and explore the Hermit's Cave.