FullReads

“Bill!” said Mr. Jope, sharp-like. “Bill Adams! What are you doin’ with that there water-pot?”

“Helpin’,” said Bill. “Helpin’ ’em to grow!”

VI.

‘Tis time, though, that we went back to Merry-Garden.

The rising tide–and I ought to have told you that the tides that day were close upon the top of the springs, with high-water at five o’clock or thereabouts–the rising tide had barely carried Mr. Jope and his party from Nandy’s sight, round the bend, before another boatload of pleasure-seekers hove in sight at the mouth of the creek. They were twelve in all, and the boat a twenty-foot galley belonging to one of the war-ships in the Hamoaze. She had been borrowed for the afternoon by the ship’s second lieutenant, a Mr. Hardcastle, and with him he had brought the third lieutenant, besides a score of young officers belonging to the garrison–a captain and two cornets of the 4th Dragoons, a couple of gunners–officers, that is, of the Artillery–an elderly major and an ensign of the Marines, and the rest belonging to the Thirty-second Regiment of Foot (one of ’em, if I recollect, the Doctor). The last of the party was a slip of an officer of the French Navy–Raynold by name– that had been taken prisoner by Mr. Hardcastle’s ship, and bore no malice for it: a cheerful, good-natured lad, and (now that he hadn’t an excuse for fighting ’em) as merry with these young Britons as they were glad to have him of their party.

Nandy, of course, knew no more about them than what his eyes told him, that they were a party of officers from Plymouth come to enjoy themselves at Merry-Garden. But the sight of them as they brought their boat to the quay and landed–the first customers of the afternoon–put him in mind that the time was drawing near for Miss Sophia to arrive with her class-mates, and that Dr. Clatworthy would soon be turning up to squire them around the orchard and entertain them at tea. He wickedly hoped that the doctor hadn’t left home before Mr. Jope reached Hi-jeen Villa. But the thought of Mr. Jope reminded him of what Mr. Jope had said concerning his pimples; and this again reminded him of what his beloved Miss Sophia had said on the same subject. He had promised her to continue taking mud-baths on his own account, even after he had cut his lucky (as he put it) from Hi-jeen Villa. . . . To be sure, one bath wouldn’t produce any immediate result. That wasn’t to be expected. But it would be a guarantee of good faith, as they say in the newspapers: and though he hadn’t time to dig a pit after the fashion of the baths in the doctor’s garden, still there was plenty of mud along the lower foreshore to give him a nice soft roll; and a plenty of water for a swim, to wash himself clean: and lastly (as he reckoned, having no watch) a plenty of time to do this and be dressed again before the dear creature arrived. So Nandy, with a stomach full of virtue, turned his back on the quay and started to walk down the creek along the foreshore, to a corner where he might reckon on being free from observation.

Meantime the young officers, that had landed and strolled up to the cottage, were being received by Susannah, and in a twitter, poor soul! “Her mistress was out–called away upon sudden business. Still, if they would take the ups with the downs, she would do her best to have tea ready in half an hour’s time: and meanwhile they might roam the orchards and eat as many cherries as they had a mind to, and all for sixpence a head. Thirteen sixpences came–yes, surely–to six-and-sixpence. She would rather they paid when Aunt Barbree returned. Or, if they preferred it, there was a skittle-alley at the end of the garden, with a small bowling-green . . .”