Chapter V: How Tom Spent His Last Day at Home

WHEN Tom awoke, he could scarcely open his eye, it was so stiff and sore. No one pitied him, and he knew very well he deserved no sympathy, and that, if the truth were known, he would be severely punished.

One wrong step led to another, and before breakfast was over, he had told several untruths to hide his fault. First, he said he had walked across the low ridge of rocks which united St. Helen's to Norton Island, and had a heavy fall. Then, when one of his brothers asked if Dick were with him, he answered, "Only part of the time." He felt very uncomfortable when Sally put this question, "Was your little boat at home yesterday, Harry? I went down to look if you were coming, and I didn't see it at the landing stage."

"But I did," answered Tom, hastily, putting his hand up to his eye, as if it pained him, but really to hide his confusion. "It was there when I went to St. Helen's."

"Perhaps I overlooked it," said Sally.

And the conversation ended at this point; for Harry seemingly did not notice the question.

Tom was thankful to escape detection, and he felt no compunction at having volunteered so many falsehoods.

"Stay at home to-day, and see if you, can't get that eye of yours better, Tom," said his father, as he left the room to go to his work. "It makes you look as if you'd been fighting. Mind, no excuses to-morrow—nothing must hinder you from going with your mother, the first thing in the morning, to Miss Pringle."

"Your clothes will be all ready," remarked Mrs. Gillies. "You've a change of shirts, and a good second-hand suit for Sunday. The every-day one you've got now will serve for some months yet. Never was a boy better started off. I wish you'd be a bit thankful."

"You don't expect me to be, so I don't disappoint you," answered Tom, carelessly.

"Was there ever such a boy!" said his mother, angrily. "It's a good thing you stand alone in the family. Do for once be obedient, and keep indoors quietly to-day. I'm going to Dixtown. Now, I tell you what I'll do, Tom," she added, more kindly. "If you stay, and bathe your eye, I'll sell your crabs, and buy you a pair of boots with the money they fetch."

"All right, mother!" he replied, going into the kitchen. "Come, Sally, give me plenty of hot water."

Tom was very quiet for the first hour, then he grew tired of doing nothing, so he strolled out for a little walk, hoping he should meet Dick. But as the latter had a day's work at the quarries, there was no chance of that.

At last, he sat down at the edge of the cliff overlooking the landing stage, and amused himself, as usual, by throwing stones about in all directions. He stopped when he saw a very handsome tabby cat creeping slowly along; she belonged to his grandmother, old Mrs. Gillies, who lived in a small cottage on the island. Tom disliked his grandmother, and knew that the cat heralded her approach.

He was right; grandmother followed close behind her favourite. When she came near to her grandson, she asked, "How did you get that black eye, Tom?"

"What does it matter to you, grandmother?" answered the boy, rudely. "But if you want very much to know, I fell on the low rocks over against St Helen's."

"You didn't, Tom. You were doing what you'd no right to do. I saw you in Harry's boat yesterday. Did he lend it you?"

"That's no business of yours," retorted Tom, angrily.

"But it is my business, and I mean to know the truth. I shall ask Harry if he lent his boat to you."

"So you may, grandmother, and he'll say Yes."

"You've told a story, you hardened boy. How glad I am you're going away from here! I mean to call at your father's this evening. Harry shall know that you took his boat; you deserve a good whipping. You didn't go to the low rocks. I saw you and Dick Potter start in the boat, and I watched your return. I might perhaps have kept your secret if you hadn't been so pert this morning. I am going over to Dixtown until evening; but expect to see me on my return."

Tom had no time to answer, for Mrs. Gillies made her way quickly down the pathway to the landing stage, where an old fisherman and his wife were awaiting her arrival.

Grandmother's cottage was her own, and she had a pension of four shillings a week, which just sufficed to keep her, with the help of sea-birds' eggs, crabs, mussels, and such like food. It was strange that she should prefer going to Dixtown with her neighbours, rather than her relations. This arose out of her independence; she did not care to be under any obligation to her own kindred; for though she admired her son greatly, her grandchildren did not inspire much love, and she really disliked Tom.

The cat waited until the boat which contained her mistress was fairly off, then she came slowly up the sloping pathway.

Tom watched her, and as he watched, wicked, mischievous thought entered his head.

"I'll be thrashed for something," he said aloud. "Miss Tabby shall catch it, and grandmother will find that if she tells of me, she'll be paid back again."

Thus speaking, he seized on an old tin saucepan which had been thrown out of one of the cottages, and had lain for many a day among the rocks.

"Tabby, Tabby!" he called, and then looked round to see if any one were near. No one was in sight, so he called again, "Tabby, Tabby!"

As a rule, the cat avoided Tom; but perhaps his voice sounded more gentle than usual, and poor Tabby felt lonely without her mistress. Be that as it may, she came and rubbed her nose against him.

Tom felt in his pocket for string. Unfortunately, he found enough for his purpose. He stroked and petted the cat, and meanwhile made one end of the string fast to the old saucepan, which had lost its handle, but had a great hole in the side that served Tom's purpose just as well. The next thing to be done was to tie the other end to pussy's tail, and this was rather a more difficult matter, but was managed at last by means of a slip-knot.

When all was arranged, Tom carried Tabby a little way down the pathway, and then let her run. So soon as the poor creature heard the noise behind her, she flew along to escape it. Round and round she went, and up and down; but the same noise followed her. At last, she bounded down the cliff, far out of Tom's sight. He pursued her, and was in time to see her flying backwards and forwards over the rocks. He called her, but she was too wild with fear to heed his voice, and ere he was near enough to catch her, she plunged headlong into the sea, which was rather stormy, and was quickly carried out by the tide.

Tom threw off his socks and boots, and paddled out so far as he dare, but he was too late to do any good. Tabby and her saucepan were far away, and the last he saw of the one friend his grandmother prized in the world, was pussy floating on the waves.

Tom was aghast at his work. He would willingly have endured a thrashing could he have brought the poor cat back again to life. He watched the waves until he lost sight of her, and then he walked slowly away. No one had seen him, but even that comfort did not avail; for he knew that he had acted a dastardly part. He was conscience-stricken; the mentor within told him he was a cruel, inhuman boy. He went directly home, and sat at the cottage door for the rest of the day. He was not afraid of his grandmother suspecting him until after he had left home, for the cat sometimes absented herself for hours together; but what if Pussy and the saucepan should be washed on to the shore when the tide turned?—That would tell tales of some one.

Mrs. Gillies reached home towards afternoon, and busied herself in arranging Tom's clothes. She had bought him a strong pair of boots, and several other articles of dress, at Dixtown.

"I was determined to give you a good start, Tom," she said. "I couldn't have a son of mine go to his first place without proper things, so I added a little money to the couple of shillings the crabs fetched."

"Thank you, mother," answered Tom, but in such a subdued voice, Mrs. Gillies thought he was awed at the prospect of leaving home.

"Cheer up, lad," she said, kindly. "Only be a good boy, and you'll please your father and me, and we shan't find fault with you any more."

Tom burst into tears at these words, which astonished his mother still more.

So, by way of changing the conversation, she added, "Have you said good-bye to your grandmother?"

"I saw her this morning for a minute," replied Tom, drying his eyes quickly. "She's gone to Dixtown for the day."

"What a stormy passage she'll have home! She oughtn't to go like this without consulting the boys. But I suppose she will have her own way."

Every footfall that passed, Tom thought that grandmother was coming, and when the evening closed without seeing her, the boy felt even more repentant, for perhaps, after all, she was better disposed towards him than she had seemed to be in the morning. He had a miserable night, for he dreamed of Tabby and the saucepan and granny's anger from the time he fell asleep until he awoke in the morning.

His brothers were so kind to him before he left that he was sorely inclined to tell Harry how badly he had behaved, and he would have done so in all probability, had not the latter gone off early, leaving Will to row him and his mother over to Dixtown.

"Good-bye, Tom," said his father, shaking hands with him. "You must never expect to come home again for good. Remember this is the turning-point in your life; and if you don't stay with Miss Pringle, you must find another situation, or starve, for I can't keep idle fellows here."

Tom looked anxiously in the direction of his grandmother's cottage as he went to the boat, but all seemed quiet as usual. "She may never find me out," he thought; "and if she does, I shall be far enough away to escape a punishment."

Still the boy was unhappy. Another reason which made him rather out of spirits was not having seen Dick Potter on the previous day. It so happened Dick was home very late, and went to bed directly, nor did he feel inclined to get up earlier than he was obliged, in order to say "good-bye" to his friend.

His comments to himself, as he worked at the quarries, might have been summed up in these words: "Tom 'll miss me, but he'll be just as useful to me at Dixtown as here; in fact, more useful, for I shall have a day with him in the town when it suits me."