A harum-scarum schoolgirl Part 8

"I'm going down the bank to see."

The others followed Geraldine, and swung themselves down to the water level. Sitting under the arch formed by the roots of the tree was a small boy of about seven, rubbing two swimming eyes with two grimy little fists and sobbing l.u.s.tily.

"Hallo! What's the matter here?" said Geraldine briskly. "Where do you come from, and why don't you go home? Are you lost?"

At the mention of "home" the little fellow's tears redoubled, and the whimper rose to a roar. Ida sat down on the rock beside him, and tried to comfort him. It was a difficult process to get any coherent or sensible replies to her questions, but after considerable coaxing, and a last piece of chocolate which Wendy fortunately fished from her pocket, she managed to wring from him that his name was Harry, that he lived at a farm on the other side of the torrent, that he had come down to the river with several other boys, and that they had dared him to cross by the fallen tree. Once over, he was too frightened to go back, and, after waiting and calling to him for some time, the other boys had run away.

How was he going to get home?

The situation was difficult, for there was no bridge across the river for many miles. Unless the child could go back the way he had come, it was a problem what was to be done.

"You were a silly boy ever to try to cross," said Geraldine sententiously.

"They said I durstn't!" sobbed the small sinner.

"Oh, don't scold him!" pleaded Diana. "I do know so exactly how he felt.

I've often been dared to do things myself, and done them, though I s.h.i.+vered."

"Well, you'd surely never do such a silly thing as cross that tree?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: TWO PAIRS OF BARE FEET WENT SPLAs.h.i.+NG JOYOUSLY INTO THE BROOK]

"Wouldn't I? I believe I'm going to do it now."

"Diana!"

"He's got to get home somehow. Look here, Harry!"--Diana knelt on the pebbles, and put her arm round the little blue-jerseyed figure--"suppose I were to go too, would you dare to cross again? We'd both crawl on our hands and knees."

The sobs stopped, while Harry took a swift survey of her face.

Apparently he found it satisfactory.

"If you'll go first," he stammered.

"Then come along--we've no time to waste," said Diana, springing up and giving him her hand.

"Diana! You surely don't mean----" began Geraldine in eager remonstrance.

"Yes, I do!" interrupted Diana. "I've done worse things before, and I'm not scared. Come on, Harry! We'll have you home in forty cracks."

The girls did not attempt to interfere. They stood and watched while Diana hauled the little boy up the bank. Perhaps each secretly wished she were capable of such a piece of pluck. Though the tree was tall enough to span the stream, its bole seemed very narrow to form a bridge, and the rounded surface made it all the more slippery; the few branches here and there were of little help. Diana hoisted up her protege, then going in front of him began to crawl across on her hands and knees, speaking to him all the time, so as to encourage him to follow her.

Beneath them the water foamed and roared over the rocks: to slip would mean to be whirled into the depths of a dark pool below. It was a slow progress, but inch by inch they crept along till the most dangerous part was pa.s.sed, and they had reached comparative safety. The girls cheered when at last Diana scrambled to her feet and lifted Harry on to dry ground. A path led up the side of the gorge, and along this he set off at full speed for home. His preserver stood looking after him for a minute or two, and then she turned to re-cross her perilous bridge. Six hands were stretched out to help her as she completed the venturesome journey.

"You're a trump, Di!"

"_I_ daren't have done it!"

"You've been a guardian angel to that child!"

"Was it _very_ awful?"

"I can't think how you managed it!"

"I nearly screamed when you reached the middle!"

"It felt worse coming back than going," said Diana, brus.h.i.+ng her skirt, which had suffered considerably. "Somehow I minded it more. Well, it's over now! We'd better be getting on, hadn't we?"

"Yes, indeed; the others will think we're lost," agreed Geraldine.

The t-r-r-ee-ee of the whistle was sounding from the far distance, so the girls made a spurt and hurried along to catch up the rest of the party. Geraldine, in virtue of her office as head prefect, briefly explained to Miss Todd the cause of the delay.

"I shouldn't have let you do it, Diana, if I had been there," said the Princ.i.p.al. "But I've no doubt the little boy's mother is blessing you.

We should have had to take him to Pendlemere with us, and have sent somebody from the village to take him home. There would have been no other way. Remember, though, that I'm responsible for you to your parents, and I really can't allow these harum-scarum tricks. Suppose there had been an accident!"

"Dad knows me, and he wouldn't have blamed you," said Diana cheerily.

"He says I'm like a cat with nine lives, or a bad halfpenny that always turns up again. I've done worse things than this."

"Then you won't do them while you're at this school," returned Miss Todd firmly, motioning her to walk along in front with Geraldine.

On Monday afternoon, with the aid of some ribbons, the girls made their rushes into pretty little sheaves. They plaited bands for them, and twisted them securely. Miss Todd, much interested, superintended their operations.

"You may pick some flowers from the garden to-morrow, and put garlands round them," she suggested. "We're reviving a most ancient custom that dates back to the early days of Christianity in Britain. Pope Gregory IV recommended that on the anniversaries of the dedication of churches wrested from the Pagans, the converts should build themselves huts with the boughs of trees round their churches, and celebrate the day with feasting. The rush-bearing is probably the last relic of that ancient ceremony. At one time there was always a village feast in connection with it, though it degenerated at last into a sort of rustic saturnalia, and had to be suppressed."

"Old customs are very interesting," said Diana, staring at the Princ.i.p.al with wide-open, steady eyes.

"I'm glad you find them so."

"It's nice to see them _all_ kept up. If we have the rush-bearing to-morrow, oughtn't we--just to revive an old ceremony--to have the feast as well?"

A rustle pa.s.sed over the school at Diana's temerity. Miss Todd returned the steady gaze, then the corners of her mouth twitched.

"You've stated the case very accurately. As a matter of fact, I have ordered seed-cake and scones, and have invited the Vicarage people to tea."

CHAPTER VI

French Leave

The sheaves of rushes were duly carried into the church, and stacked artistically in the deep window-sills, where they gave somewhat the effect of a harvest festival. The girls were eager to lay bundles of them in the particular pews occupied by the school, but the verger, who looked askance at the whole business, and whose wife was hovering about with a broom to sweep up bits, vetoed the suggestion so emphatically that the Vicar, wavering with a strong balance towards ancient custom, hastily and regretfully decided in the negative. Neither would Miss Todd allow them to be strewn upon the schoolroom floor, although Diana ventured to suggest the advisability of practical study of mediaeval methods.

"There are some things best left to imagination," replied the Princ.i.p.al dryly. "For instance, there would be no need to dispense with forks, and let you hold mutton bones with your fingers at dinner, in order to demonstrate fourteenth-century manners, nor to bleed you every time you had a toothache, to test ancient practices of medicine. If you're so very anxious to skip a few hundred years, I have, in an old Herbal, a prescription to cure 'swimming in ye heade and such like phantasies'. It consists mainly of pounded snail-sh.e.l.ls, mixed with boiled tansy and snippings from the hair of an unbaptized infant born between Easter and Michaelmas. Any one who wishes has my permission to try it."

"No, thank you!" said Diana, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her mouth. "Unless," she added hopefully, "I might go out and gather the tansy. We saw some growing on the way to Fox Fell."

"There's a fine clump at the bottom of the garden, so you needn't go out of bounds to get it," replied Miss Todd, glancing at her pupil with eyes that clearly saw through all subterfuges.

The Princ.i.p.al was determined that Diana and Wendy, having deliberately broken a rule, should suffer the just consequences, and she did not intend to remit one jot or t.i.ttle of the punishment she had inflicted.

"Bounds" at Pendlemere were sufficiently extensive to allow ample exercise, and any farther excursions must be deferred till the end of the appointed fortnight.