'He's been keeping a dog for me,' said Bernard sulkily.
'A dog!' Lance sat up in astonishment immeasurable.
'Yes. Its the thing, and no mistake,' said Bernard eagerly.
'His name is Stingo; only we are not quite sure whether he is a bull-terrier or a short-haired King Charles.'
Lance dropped back, wriggling in suppressed convulsions, as he demanded, 'Where did you steal this unmistakeable animal?'
'I bought him,' said Bernard, with a certain magnificence intended to be overawing.
'Then where did you steal the money!'
'Travis,' said Bernard, who considered Christian names unworthy of male lips. 'He always used to tip me a sovereign, and Ben Bowyer, the dog-fancier, said Stingo was worth thirty shillings any day, only he let me have him for eight and six, because he wanted to sell off his stock.'
'I thought as much. And Sims keeps him for you?'
'At ninepence a week; but the brute is at me for ever, and says it is twelve weeks.'
'Pray, how were you to raise ninepence a week? By waiting on Providence or turning coach-wheels?'
'I had some then; and Froggy sometimes gives one half a crown, but the old beast hasn't lately, just because I wanted it-nor Travis either, bad luck to him! quoth this grateful young man. 'I put them all off, making sure of him; and now he's cut and never tipped me at all! It's an abominable sell, and they are all at me.
'All! what more? Have it out,' grunted Lance, with a sound of bodily pain in his tone such as would have silenced any one above ten years old, and a bored contemptuous manner that would have crushed any attempt at confidence-if he had been the right person to confess to.
Nevertheless, Bernard mumbled, 'Shooting-gallery. And Mother Goldie vowed she would lug me up to Wilmet if I don't fork out!'
'Mother Goldie! You little disgusting ape! You've been tucking in what you owed in pies and tarts! cried Lance, who was too constitutionally heedless of the palate to have any charity for its temptations.
'It's all Wilmet's fault,' said Bernard. 'She never gives one anything fit to eat. There was that beastly lamp out there went and got broke, and what does she do but crib it out of our grub! Now, Lance, was any living soul served like that before? She gave us only that beastly stir-about at breakfast' (Bernard worked his single adjective hard),' no butter nor sugar at tea, and no pudding, except when there's that beastly mess of rice.'
'I'm sure I've seen pudding.'
'Oh! she came round when Felix came home. She knew he wouldn't stand it. Alda used to buy marmalade and anchovy on her own hook, so I don't see why I shouldn't.'
'Alda didn't go on tick, I suppose.'
'Serve Wilmet right if we all did. I don't believe there's a beggar so badly fed. Nares says-'
'You unnatural little sneak, you haven't been and gone and complained to him!'
'No; but all the town is crying out upon her shabbiness. They say it is a perfect shame how little butcher's meat she gets. Nares's mother and sisters do nothing but laugh at it, and Nares says nothing will make us comfortable but a bankruptcy. Hollo!'
For a well-aimed swing of the bolster laid him sprawling on the floor.
'Take that for mentioning such a word!'
'My eyes, Lance, is it swearing?' said Bernard, with a little affectation of innocence. 'How you have been and bumped my knees;' and he sat on the floor, pulling up his trousers to gain a view; 'there'll be a bruise as big as half a crown! Well, but Nares says it was a real blessing to them; for before it old Nares was always in a rage, and his mother boohooing; and now it is over they live like fighting-cocks, on champagne, and lobster-salad, and mulli- what's his name?-first chop; and the women dress in silks and velvets and feathers, no end of swells! and they say it is regular stoopid to pinch like that, for no one will believe we ain't going to smash while she is such a screw!'
'If you weren't nothing but a little donkey,' said Lance, sitting coiled up with his head on his knee, grimly contemplating him, 'you'd be a show specimen of precocious depravity.'
'I declare,' persisted Bernard, 'Nares says it is coming as sure as fate; for his governor, and Jackman, and Collis are going to stump up the old Pursuivant with their new Bexley Tribune, and Redstone is to be sub-editor.'
'The black-hearted rascal!' cried Lance, bounding on his feet in a rage. 'He ought to be kicked out of the shop this instant!'
'Now don't, Lance,' entreated Bernard, 'for Nares will pitch into me for telling. He says they've got an opening through the Pur backing up that mean beggar Smith; and Collis and Jackman will find the cash, and Nares's father is to be editor, and they vow Froggatt and Underwood will be beat out of the field.'
'Catch them,' said Lance, and he stood leaning against the solid old carved bed-post in silence, till Bernard returned to the insolvency at present far more pressing.
'Won't you help me about Stingo?' he said.
'Do you want me to send him to the dog-show, ticketted 'The Real Animal and no mistake'?'
'Don't, Lance,' said the boy peevishly. 'I thought you were good- natured, and would lend me some tin, or at least stop the blackguard from being such a baboon. He's found out that Travis has cut, and he says he'll come to Felix this very day,' ended he, not far from crying.
'I can't anyhow, to-day, Bear,' said Lance, more kindly. 'My head is very bad, and you've not mended it.'
'It was well enough when you broke my knees,' grumbled Bernard. 'Come, Lance, you used to be a fellow to help one.'
'I can't, I tell you,' said Lance, hastily throwing himself back on the bed, and shutting his eyes. 'It isn't that I won't, but I can't. I couldn't walk straight down the street for giddiness; and if I did, I don't suppose I could talk sense.'
Bernard was startled by the tone as well as the words; but he had not arrived at much pity for any one but himself, and he whined, 'But what shall I do, then?' repeating it dolefully, as Lance lay for some moments silent and with closed eyes.
'Bother!' he broke out angrily at last. 'Look here. Tell the blackguard-let me see-I don't well know what I'm saying. Tell him you've spoken to me-no, to your brother-mind, you needn't say which-and that he'll come and see about it. Now give me that bolster, and take yourself off. Tell them I want no dinner, and don't let any one come! Get along, and shut the door.'
Bernard could extract no more, and departed as the dinner-bell rang, leaving him without energy even to lock the door. Presently Felix was standing anxiously over him; but he reiterated that he could not bear to think of food, and only wanted to be left alone; but just as his brother was leaving him, he said, 'Fee, do you know that Redstone is going over to the enemy?'
'The opposition paper? Nothing more likely. How did you hear?'
'Bear picked it up. I say, wasn't that little beggar to have gone to Stoneborough?'
'Not possible, Lance, I've gone into it with Wilmet. She is in trouble about household expenses, as it is; and with this rival paper on our hands, I can't undertake anything extra. Has he been bothering you? I'm very sorry, but we must keep him here.'
Lance shut his eyes without reply; but no sooner was he left alone than he rolled over, gave vent to a heavy groan from the bottom of his heart, and clenched his hands as he lay. Then followed some heavy sobs, and a few great tears; but gradually a look of purpose and hope came over his face, and he slept. He was lying between sleeping and waking, when a quiet step and cautious knock made him call out, 'Come in, Jack.'
'Your sister wants to know if you are better, and ready for some tea.'
'Thank you, I'm mending. Is Wilmet come home?'
'Yes, but only to become the prey of an ancient female.'
'Mrs. Bisset! Come to inspect you!'
'She won't, then! Shall I get you some tea?'
'No, thank you. But, I say, Jack, do you see my big box that we brought home yesterday? Would you just dig into it for me?'
John Harewood applied himself to disentangle a frightful knot, observing, 'This looks like Bill's handiwork.'
'Ay! Bill put all my traps together when our other fellows came back.'
'Together indeed!' said the Captain, looking at the heterogeneous collection.
'There's nothing to hurt,' said Lance. 'Do you see a green box?'
