Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 23

"But he won't be up till it's time to ring the six o'clock bell. What time is it now?"

"I don't know. About half-past one, I should think," cried Glyn, laughing merrily.

"There you go again! You know it must be much later than that. Yet you will keep on saying things to make me wild. Are you going to help me get out of this dreadful sc.r.a.pe?"

"It isn't your sc.r.a.pe. It's only an accident. You talked to the beast in the old language, and it came after you again, just like a dog after its own master."

"Look here," said Singh, "do you know where Wrench sleeps?"

"Yes."

"Where?" cried Singh eagerly.

"In his bed."

"Oh!" roared Singh pa.s.sionately; and hearing his loud voice the elephant grunted and began to rise slowly.

"There, I knew you would do it," cried Glyn, who was bubbling over with fun. "He's coming upstairs."

"Oh!" cried Singh again, with an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of dismay, as he hurried to the window, thrust out his head, and shouted something that sounded like "Gangarroo rubble dubble."

But whatever it meant, it stopped the elephant from cras.h.i.+ng through a piece of palisading, and made it kneel again with its head over a flowerbed, and begin picking all the blossoms within its reach.

"Oh dear, just look at him!" cried Singh piteously. "And here you are laughing as if it were the best fun you have ever seen!"

"Well, so it is," cried Glyn--"a regular game!"

"Game! Why, I feel as if I could run away to guardian at the hotel, and never show my face here again."

"Here, don't be such a jolly old stupid, making _Kunchinjingas_ out of pimples. Here, I know what I'll do. Of course we couldn't get to old Wrench's place. He sleeps in a turn-up bed in his pantry, I believe.

I'd soon turn him down, if I could," cried Glyn, as he poured the contents of his jug into the basin.

"But you had an idea," said Singh.

_Bubble, bubble, bubble, bubble_, came from the basin as the boy thrust in his face.

Singh uttered a sound like a snarl.

"Wait till I get my towel," gasped Glyn as he raised his face for a moment, and directly after--sounding half-smothered in huckaback, and coming in spasmodic jerks--the boy panted out, "I guess it's about four o'clock now. I'll--I'll go down and make--believe it's six, and ring the big bell. That'll make old Wrench come tumbling out in a fright."

"Ah, to be sure; now you are talking sense. Capital! Make haste."

"Well, I am making haste."

"Oh, Glyn, old chap," cried Singh piteously, "don't, pray don't, begin making fun of it all again. I feel just as if I am to blame for all the mischief that great beast has done and is going to do. He'll obey me, and as soon as I am dressed I am going down to talk to him and try and keep him quiet while you rouse up Wrench."

"Rouse up Wrench!" said Glyn laughing. "Why, it'll rouse up the whole school. Only that I know that the fellows won't be in any hurry to get up, I should be afraid that they would come scrambling out into the playground, and we should have the great monster picking the little ones up one at a time and taking them like pills."

"Oh, there you go again," cried Singh piteously.

"Oh, all right, old chap. That was a slip. But I say, I suppose I'd better not stop to take my hair out of the curl-papers."

"Glyn!"

"There, all right. Dry now. Must put a comb through my hair. I look so fierce the elephant would take me for an enemy. There we are," he continued, talking away as he busied himself. "Is the parting straight?

There, come along. Well, you are a fellow! I am ready first."

They hurried down the stairs and made for the door, to find to their great dismay that it was locked, bolted, and chained, and so dark at the end of the pa.s.sage that it was hard work to find the fastenings; and while Glyn was fumbling about in utter ignorance of how the chain was secured there came, faintly heard, from outside a shrill trumpeting sound.

"Oh," gasped Singh, "he has missed us, and thinks we are gone."

"Run up to the window again and order him to lie down," cried Glyn, speaking earnestly now. "I'll get the door open somehow, or a window, and go out to him and make-believe to mount, till you come down.

That'll keep him quiet."

"Yes, yes," panted Singh; "only do make haste."

The boy hurried back along the pa.s.sage, and in the darkness kicked against a mat and went down with a bang.

"Don't stop to pick up the pieces," cried Glyn, and there was a sound came out of the darkness as if Singh had snapped his teeth together.

Then for nearly five minutes Glyn went on fumbling over the fastenings, and succeeded at last in throwing open the door, to see a few golden fleck-like clouds softly bright high overhead, and away to his right the great animal that had roused him from his peaceful sleep.

He went straight to it without hesitation, and as he got close up, the huge beast began to mutter and grumble, and raised its trunk, while the boy felt it creep round his waist like a serpent and hold him tightly.

"What's he going to do next?" thought Glyn. "He must know I'm not Singh. Why doesn't he come? Hasn't hurt himself, has he?"

Just then Singh appeared at their bedroom window, and called to the intruder softly, with the result that the trunk was uncurled, raised in the air, and used like a trumpet, while a shuffling movement suggested that the animal was about to rise.

"Kneel!" cried Singh, and the animal crouched once more.

"Now you get on his neck, and sit there till I come down."

"It's all very well," grumbled Glyn; "but I don't much like the job while you are away."

All the same, the boy did not hesitate, but took hold of the crouching beast's ear, planted the edge of his shoe in one of the wrinkles of the trunk, and climbed into the mahout's place, his steed raising and lowering its ears and muttering and grumbling impatiently as if waiting to be told to rise.

Meanwhile Singh had disappeared from the window, and after what seemed a very long time made his appearance through the door.

"Oh, what a while you have been!" cried Glyn. "Now then, you had better come here and sit on him to hold him down while I go and ring the bell.

Here, I say, though, it won't make him think breakfast's ready, will it, and send him scrambling off after buns?"

"No, no, no! Nonsense!" cried Singh.

"Oh, well, if you don't mind, I don't, because I shall be over there.

But, all the same, I shouldn't like to see him kick up behind and throw you over his head."

Singh uttered an impatient e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and began to climb on to the animal's neck.