THE THIRD BAG
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ourneys end in lovers' meeting,Every wise man's son doth know. "I wonder what will happen to me now," thought Black Sheep, when thesemi-pagan rites peculiar to the burial of the Dead in middle-classhouses had been accomplished, and Aunty Rosa, awful in black crape,had returned to this life. "I don't think I've done anything bad thatshe knows of. I suppose I will soon. She will be very cross afterUncle Harry's dying, and Harry will be cross too. I 'll keep in thenursery." Unfortunately for Punch's plans, it was decided that he should be sentto a day-school which Harry attended. This meant a morning walk withHarry, and perhaps an evening one; but the prospect of freedom in theinterval was refreshing. "Harry 'll tell everything I do, but I won'tdo anything," said Black Sheep. Fortified with this virtuousresolution, he went to school only to find that Harry's version of hischaracter had preceded him, and that life was a burden in consequence.He took stock of his associates. Some of them were unclean, some ofthem talked in dialect, many dropped their h's, and there were twoJews and a Negro, or someone quite as dark, in the assembly. "That's ahubshi," said Black Sheep to himself. "Even Meeta used to laugh at ahubshi. I don't think this is a proper place." He was indignant for atleast an hour, till he reflected that any expostulation on his partwould be by Aunty Rosa construed into "showing off," and that Harrywould tell the boys. "How do you like school?" said Aunty Rosa at the end of the day. "I think it is a very nice place," said Punch quietly. "I suppose you warned the boys of Black Sheep's character?" said AuntyRosa to Harry. "Oh, yes!" said the censor of Black Sheep's morals. "They know allabout him." "If I was with my father," said Black Sheep, stung to the quick, "Ishould n't speak to those boys. He would n't let me. They live inshops. I saw them go into shops--where their fathers live and sellthings." "You're too good for that school, are you?" said Aunty Rosa, with abitter smile. "You ought to be grateful, Black Sheep, that those boysspeak to you at all. It is n't every school that takes little liars." Harry did not fail to make much capital out of Black Sheep'sill-considered remark; with the result that several boys, includingthe hubshi, demonstrated to Black Sheep the eternal equality of thehuman race by smacking his head, and his consolation from Aunty Rosawas that it "served him right for being vain." He learned, however, tokeep his opinions to himself, and by propitiating Harry in carryingbooks and the like to secure a little peace. His existence was not toojoyful. From nine till twelve he was at school, and from two to four,except on Saturdays. In the evenings he was sent down into the nurseryto prepare his lessons for the next day, and every night came thedreaded cross-questionings at Harry's hand. Of Judy he saw but little.She was deeply religious--at six years of age Religion is easy to comeby--and sorely divided between her natural love for Black Sheep andher love for Aunty Rosa, who could do no wrong. The lean woman returned that love with interest, and Judy, when shedared, took advantage of this for the remission of Black Sheep'spenalties. Failures in lessons at school were furnished at home by aweek without reading other than schoolbooks, and Harry brought thenews of such a failure with glee. Further, Black Sheep was then boundto repeat his lessons at bedtime to Harry, who generally succeeded inmaking him break down, and consoled him by gloomiest forebodings forthe morrow. Harry was at once spy, practical joker, inquisitor, andAunty Rosa's deputy executioner. He filled his many posts toadmiration. From his actions, now that Uncle Harry was dead, there wasno appeal. Black Sheep had not been permitted to keep any self-respectat school; at home he was of course utterly discredited, and gratefulfor any pity that the servant-girls--they changed frequently at DowneLodge because they, too, were liars--might show. "You 're just fit torow in the same boat with Black Sheep," was a sentiment that each newJane or Eliza might expect to hear, before a month was over, fromAunty Rosa's lips; and Black Sheep was used to ask new girls whetherthey had yet been compared to him. Harry was "Master Harry" in theirmouths; Judy was officially "Miss Judy"; but Black Sheep was neveranything more than Black Sheep _tout court_. As time went on and the memory of Papa and Mamma became whollyoverlaid by the unpleasant task of writing them letters under AuntyRosa's eye, each Sunday, Black Sheep forgot what manner of life he hadled in the beginning of things. Even Judy's appeals to "try andremember about Bombay" failed to quicken him. "I can't remember," he said. "I know I used to give orders and Mammakissed me." "Aunty Rosa will kiss you if you are good," pleaded Judy. "Ugh! I don't want to be kissed by Aunty Rosa. She'd say I was doingit to get something more to eat." The weeks lengthened into months, and the holidays came; but justbefore the holidays Black Sheep fell into deadly sin. Among the many boys whom Harry had incited to "punch Black Sheep'shead because he dare n't hit back," was one more aggravating than therest, who, in an unlucky moment, fell upon Black Sheep when Harry wasnot near. The blows stung, and Black Sheep struck back at random withall the power at his command. The boy dropped and whimpered. BlackSheep was astounded at his own act, but, feeling the unresisting bodyunder him, shook it with both his hands in blind fury and then beganto throttle his enemy; meaning honestly to slay him. There was ascuffle, and Black Sheep was torn off the body by Harry and somecolleagues, and cuffed home tingling but exultant. Aunty Rosa was out;pending her arrival Harry set himself to lecture Black Sheep on thesin of murder--which he described as the offence of Cain. "Why did n't you fight him fair? What did you hit him when he was downfor, you little cur?" Black Sheep looked up at Harry's throat and then at a knife on thedinner-table. "I don't understand," he said wearily. "You always set him on me andtold me I was a coward when I blubbed. Will you leave me alone untilAunty Rosa comes in? She'll beat me if you tell her I ought to bebeaten; so it's all right." "It's all wrong," said Harry magisterially. "You nearly killed him,and I should n't wonder if he dies." "Will he die?" said Black Sheep. "I daresay," said Harry, "and then you'll be hanged." "All right," said Black Sheep, possessing himself of the table-knife."Then I'll kill you now. You say things and do things and--and Idon't know how things happen, and you never leave me alone--and Idon't care what happens!" He ran at the boy with the knife, and Harry fled upstairs to his room,promising Black Sheep the finest thrashing in the world when AuntyRosa returned. Black Sheep sat at the bottom of the stairs, thetable-knife in his hand, and wept for that he had not killed Harry.The servant-girl came up from the kitchen, took the knife away, andconsoled him. But Black Sheep was beyond consolation. He would bebadly beaten by Aunty Rosa; then there would be another beating atHarry's hands; then Judy would not be allowed to speak to him; thenthe tale would be told at school and then---- There was no one to help and no one to care, and the best way out ofthe business was by death. A knife would hurt, but Aunty Rosa had toldhim, a year ago, that if he sucked paint he would die. He went intothe nursery, unearthed the now-disused Noah's Ark, and sucked thepaint off as many animals as remained. It tasted abominable, but hehad licked Noah's Dove clean by the time Aunty Rosa and Judy returned.He went upstairs and greeted them with: "Please, Aunty Rosa, I believeI've nearly killed a boy at school, and I've tried to kill Harry, andwhen you've done all about God and Hell, will you beat me and get itover?" The tale of the assault as told by Harry could only be explained onthe ground of possession by the Devil. Wherefore Black Sheep was notonly most excellently beaten, once by Aunty Rosa and once, whenthoroughly cowed down, by Harry, but he was further prayed for atfamily prayers, together with Jane, who had stolen a cold rissole fromthe pantry and snuffled audibly as her enormity was brought before theThrone of Grace. Black Sheep was sore and stiff, but triumphant. Hewould die that very night and be rid of them all. No, he would ask forno forgiveness from Harry, and at bedtime would stand no questioningat Harry's hands, even though addressed as "Young Cain." "I've been beaten," said he, "and I've done other things. I don't carewhat I do. If you speak to me to-night, Harry, I'll get out and try tokill you. Now you can kill me if you like." Harry took his bed into the spare-room, and Black Sheep lay down todie. It may be that the makers of Noah's Arks know that their animals arelikely to find their way into young mouths, and paint themaccordingly. Certain it is that the common, weary next morning brokethrough the windows and found Black Sheep quite well and a good dealashamed of himself, but richer by the knowledge that he could, inextremity, secure himself against Harry for the future. When he descended to breakfast on the first day of the holidays, hewas greeted with the news that Harry, Aunty Rosa, and Judy were goingaway to Brighton, while Black Sheep was to stay in the house with theservant. His latest outbreak suited Aunty Rosa's plans admirably. Itgave her good excuse for leaving the extra boy behind. Papa in Bombay,who really seemed to know a young sinner's wants to the hour, sent,that week, a package of new books. And with these, and the society ofJane on board-wages, Black Sheep was left alone for a month. The books lasted for ten days. They were eaten too quickly, in longgulps of four-and-twenty hours at a time. Then came days of doingabsolutely nothing, of dreaming dreams and marching imaginary armiesup and down stairs, of counting the number of banisters, and ofmeasuring the length and breadth of every room in handspans--fiftydown the side, thirty across, and fifty back again. Jane made manyfriends, and, after receiving Black Sheep's assurance that he wouldnot tell of her absences, went out daily for long hours. Black Sheepwould follow the rays of the sinking sun from the kitchen to thedining-room and thence upward to his own bedroom until all was graydark, and he ran down to the kitchen fire and read by its light. Hewas happy in that he was left alone and could read as much as hepleased. But, later, he grew afraid of the shadows of window-curtainsand the flapping of doors and the creaking of shutters. He went outinto the garden, and the rustling of the laurel-bushes frightened him. He was glad when they all returned--Aunty Rosa, Harry, and Judy--fullof news, and Judy laden with gifts. Who could help loving loyal littleJudy? In return for all her merry babblement, Black Sheep confided toher that the distance from the hall-door to the top of the firstlanding was exactly one hundred and eighty-four handspans. He hadfound it out himself. Then the old life recommenced; but with a difference, and a new sin.To his other iniquities Black Sheep had now added a phenomenalclumsiness--was as unfit to trust in action as he was in word. Hehimself could not account for spilling everything he touched,upsetting glasses as he put his hand out, and bumping his head againstdoors that were manifestly shut. There was a gray haze upon all hisworld, and it narrowed month by month, until at last it left BlackSheep almost alone with the flapping curtains that were so likeghosts, and the nameless terrors of broad daylight that were onlycoats on pegs after all. Holidays came and holidays went, and Black Sheep was taken to see manypeople whose faces were all exactly alike; was beaten when occasiondemanded, and tortured by Harry on all possible occasions; butdefended by Judy through good and evil report, though she hereby drewupon herself the wrath of Aunty Rosa. The weeks were interminable and Papa and Mamma were clean forgotten.Harry had left school and was a clerk in a Banking-Office. Freed fromhis presence, Black Sheep resolved that he should no longer bedeprived of his allowance of pleasure-reading. Consequently, when hefailed at school he reported that all was well, and conceived a largecontempt for Aunty Rosa as he saw how easy it was to deceive her. "Shesays I'm a little liar when I don't tell lies, and now I do, she doesn't know," thought Black Sheep. Aunty Rosa had credited him in thepast with petty cunning and stratagem that had never entered into hishead. By the light of the sordid knowledge that she had revealed tohim he paid her back full tale. In a household where the most innocentof his motives, his natural yearning for a little affection, had beeninterpreted into a desire for more bread and jam or to ingratiatehimself with strangers and so put Harry into the background, his workwas easy. Aunty Rosa could penetrate certain kinds of hypocrisy, butnot all. He set his child's wits against hers and was no more beaten.It grew monthly more and more of a trouble to read the schoolbooks,and even the pages of the open-print story-books danced and were dim.So Black Sheep brooded in the shadows that fell about him and cut himoff from the world, inventing horrible punishments for "dear Harry,"or plotting another line of the tangled web of deception that hewrapped round Aunty Rosa. Then the crash came and the cobwebs were broken. It was impossible toforesee everything. Aunty Rosa made personal inquiries as to BlackSheep's progress and received information that startled her. Step bystep, with a delight as keen as when she convicted an underfedhousemaid of the theft of cold meats, she followed the trail of BlackSheep's delinquencies. For weeks and weeks, in order to escapebanishment from the book-shelves, he had made a fool of Aunty Rosa, ofHarry, of God, of all the world. Horrible, most horrible, and evidenceof an utterly depraved mind. Black Sheep counted the cost. "It will only be one big beating, andthen she'll put a card with 'Liar' on my back, same as she did before.Harry will whack me and pray for me, and she will pray for me atprayers and tell me I'm a Child of the Devil and give me hymns tolearn. But I've done all my reading and she never knew. She'll say sheknew all along. She's an old liar, too," said he. For three days Black Sheep was shut in his own bedroom--to prepare hisheart. "That means two beatings. One at school and one here. That onewill hurt most." And it fell even as he thought. He was thrashed atschool before the Jews and the hubshi, for the heinous crime ofbringing home false reports of progress. He was thrashed at home byAunty Rosa on the same count, and then the placard was produced. AuntyRosa stitched it between his shoulders and bade him go for a walk withit upon him. "If you make me do that," said Black Sheep very quietly, "I shall burnthis house down, and perhaps I'll kill you. I don't know whether I cankill you--you 're so bony--but I'll try." No punishment followed this blasphemy, though Black Sheep held himselfready to work his way to Aunty Rosa's withered throat, and grip theretill he was beaten off. Perhaps Aunty Rosa was afraid, for BlackSheep, having reached the Nadir of Sin, bore himself with a newrecklessness. In the midst of all the trouble there came a visitor from over theseas to Downe Lodge, who knew Papa and Mamma, and was commissioned tosee Punch and Judy. Black Sheep was sent to the drawing-room andcharged into a solid tea-table laden with china. "Gently, gently, little man," said the visitor turning Black Sheep'sface to the light slowly. "What's that big bird on the palings?" "What bird?" asked Black Sheep. The visitor looked deep down into Black Sheep's eyes for a half aminute, and then said suddenly: "Good God, the little chap's nearlyblind." It was a most business-like visitor. He gave orders, on his ownresponsibility, that Black Sheep was not to go to school or open abook until Mamma came home. "She'll be here in three weeks, as youknow of course," said he, "and I'm Inverarity Sahib. I ushered youinto this wicked world, young man, and a nice use you seem to havemade of your time. You must do nothing whatever. Can you do that?" "Yes," said Punch in a dazed way. He had known that Mamma was coming.There was a chance, then, of another beating. Thank Heaven, Papa wasn't coming too. Aunty Rosa had said of late that he ought to be beatenby a man. For the next three weeks Black Sheep was strictly allowed to donothing. He spent his time in the old nursery looking at the brokentoys, for all of which account must be rendered to Mamma. Aunty Rosahit him over the hands if even a wooden boat were broken. But that sinwas of small importance compared to the other revelations, so darklyhinted at by Aunty Rosa. "When your mother comes, and hears what Ihave to tell her, she may appreciate you properly," she said grimly,and mounted guard over Judy lest that small maiden should attempt tocomfort her brother, to the peril of her own soul. And Mamma came--in a four-wheeler and a flutter of tender excitement.Such a Mamma! She was young, frivolously young, and beautiful, withdelicately flushed cheeks, eyes that shone like stars, and a voicethat needed no additional appeal of outstretched arms to draw littleones to her heart. Judy ran straight to her, but Black Sheephesitated. Could this wonder be "showing off"? She would not put outher arms when she knew of his crimes. Meantime was it possible that byfondling she wanted to get anything out of Black Sheep? Only all hislove and all his confidence; but that Black Sheep did not know. AuntyRosa withdrew and left Mamma, kneeling between her children, halflaughing, half crying, in the very hall where Punch and Judy had weptfive years before. "Well, chicks, do you remember me?" "No," said Judy frankly, "but I said 'God bless Papa and Mamma,' ev'vynight." "A little," said Black Sheep. "Remember I wrote to you every week,anyhow. That is n't to show off, but 'cause of what comes afterward." "What comes after! What should come after, my darling boy?" And shedrew him to her again. He came awkwardly, with many angles. "Not usedto petting," said the quick Mother-soul. "The girl is." "She's too little to hurt anyone," thought Black Sheep, "and if I saidI'd kill her, she'd be afraid. I wonder what Aunty Rosa will tell." There was a constrained late dinner, at the end of which Mamma pickedup Judy and put her to bed with endearments manifold. Faithless littleJudy had shown her defection from Aunty Rosa already. And that ladyresented it bitterly. Black Sheep rose to leave the room. "Come and say good night," said Aunty Rosa, offering a withered cheek. "Huh!" said Black Sheep. "I never kiss you, and I'm not going to showoff. Tell that woman what I've done, and see what she says." Black Sheep climbed into bed feeling that he had lost Heaven after aglimpse through the gates. In half an hour "that woman" was bendingover him. Black Sheep flung up his right arm. It was n't fair to comeand hit him in the dark. Even Aunty Rosa never tried that. But no blowfollowed. "Are you showing off? I won't tell you anything more than Aunty Rosahas, and she does n't know everything," said Black Sheep as clearly ashe could for the arms round his neck. "Oh, my son--my little, little son! It was my fault--my fault,darling--and yet how could we help it? Forgive me, Punch." The voicedied out in a broken whisper, and two hot tears fell on Black Sheep'sforehead. "Has she been making you cry, too?" he asked. "You should see Janecry. But you're nice, and Jane is a Born Liar--Aunty Rosa says so." "Hush, Punch, hush! My boy, don't talk like that. Try to love me alittle bit--a little bit. You don't know how I want it. Punch-baba,come back to me! I am your Mother--your own Mother--and never mind therest. I know--yes, I know, dear. It does n't matter now. Punch, won'tyou care for me a little?" It is astonishing how much petting a big boy of ten can endure when heis quite sure that there is no one to laugh at him. Black Sheep hadnever been made much of before, and here was this beautiful womantreating him--Black Sheep, the Child of the Devil and the Inheritor ofUndying Flame--as though he were a small God. "I care for you a great deal, Mother dear," he whispered at last, "andI'm glad you've come back; but are you sure Aunty Rosa told youeverything?" "Everything. What does it matter? But----" the voice broke with a sobthat was also laughter--"Punch, my poor, dear, half-blind darling,don't you think it was a little foolish of you?" "No. It saved a lickin'." Mamma shuddered and slipped away in the darkness to write a longletter to Papa. Here is an extract: "... Judy is a dear, plump little prig who adores the woman, and wearswith as much gravity as her religious opinions--only eight, Jack!--avenerable horsehair atrocity which she calls her Bustle. I have justburned it, and the child is asleep in my bed as I write. She will cometo me at once. Punch I cannot quite understand. He is well nourished,but seems to have been worried into a system of small deceptions whichthe woman magnifies into deadly sins. Don't you recollect our ownup-bringing, dear, when the Fear of the Lord was so often thebeginning of falsehood? I shall win Punch to me before long. I amtaking the children away into the country to get them to know me, and,on the whole, I am content, or shall be when you come home, dear boy,and then, thank God, we shall be all under one roof again at last!" * * * * * Three months later, Punch, no longer Black Sheep, has discovered thathe is the veritable owner of a real, live, lovely Mamma, who is also asister, comforter, and friend, and that he must protect her till theFather comes home. Deception does not suit the part of a protector,and, when one can do anything without question, where is the use ofdeception? "Mother would be awfully cross if you walked through that ditch," saysJudy, continuing a conversation. "Mother's never angry," says Punch. "She'd just say, 'You're a littlepagal'; and that's not nice, but I'll show." Punch walks through the ditch and mires himself to the knees. "Mother,dear," he shouts, "I'm just as dirty as I can pos-sib-ly be!" "Then change your clothes as quickly as you pos-sib-ly can!" rings outMother's clear voice from the house. "And don't be a little pagal!" "There! Told you so," says Punch. "It's all different now, and we arejust as much Mother's as if she had never gone." Not altogether, O Punch, for when young lips have drunk deep of thebitter waters of Hate, Suspicion, and Despair, all the Love in theworld will not wholly take away that knowledge; though it may turndarkened eyes for a while to the light, and teach Faith where no Faithwas. V
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