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Page 24

"Is Aunt Charlotte up yet?" asked Austin turning over on his side.

"Ay, that she be, and making it lively for the maids downstairs.
Whatever will she say when she hears about this to-do?" exclaimed
Martha, with her hands upon her hips as she gazed at the desolation
round her.

"Well, please go down and ask her to come up here at once," said
Austin. "I see I shall have to say something, and it really will be
too much bother to go over it to everybody in turn. I've had rather a
disturbed night, and feel most awfully tired. So just run down and
bring her up as soon as ever you can, and then we'll get it over."

"A pretty business--and me with forty-eleven things to do already
to-day," muttered the old servant as she hurried out. "True it is that
except the Lord builds the house they labour in vain as builds it. He
didn't have no hand in building this one, that's as plain as I am--as
never was a beauty at my best. Well, the child's safe, that's one
mercy. Though what he was doing out of his bed when the roof came
down's a mystery to _me_. Talking to the moon, I shouldn't wonder. The
good Lord's got 'is own ways o' doing things, and it ain't for the
likes of us to pick holes when they turn out better than the worst."

Meanwhile Austin lay quietly and drowsily on his couch piecing things
together. Seen from the distance of a few hours, now that he had
leisure to reflect, how wonderfully they fitted in! First of all,
there had been that sudden outburst of raps just as he was stepping
into bed. That, evidently, was intended as a warning. It was as much
as to say, "Don't! don't!" But of course he couldn't be expected to
know this, and so he could only wonder where the raps came from, and
get into bed as usual. Then, the instant he did so the raps ceased.
That was because it wasn't any use to go on. The rappers, he
supposed, had benevolently tried to frighten him away, and induce him
to go and sleep on the sofa at the other end of the room where he was
now; but the attempt had failed. So there was nothing for them to do,
as he was actually in bed, but to get him out again; and this they had
succeeded in doing by dragging all his clothes off. Now he saw it all.
Nothing, it seemed to him, could possibly be clearer. But who were the
unseen friends who had thus interposed to save his life? Ah, that was
a secret still.

Then footsteps were heard outside, and in bustled Aunt Charlotte, with
Martha chattering in her wake. Austin raised himself upon his
cushions, and then sank back again. "Lord save us!" cried Aunt
Charlotte, coming to a dead stop, as she surveyed the ruins.

"It's rather a mess, isn't it?" remarked Austin, folding a red
table-cover round his single leg by way of counterpane.

"A mess!" repeated Aunt Charlotte. "I should think it _was_ a mess.
How in the world, Austin, did you manage to escape?"

"Well--I happened to get out of bed a minute or two before the ceiling
broke," said Austin, "and it's just as well I did. Otherwise my
artless countenance would have got rather disfigured, and I might
even have been hurt. You see all that raw material isn't composed of
gossamer----"

"What time did it occur?" asked Aunt Charlotte, shortly.

"The dawn was just breaking. I suppose it must have been about four
o'clock, but I didn't look at my watch," replied Austin. "I was too
cold and sleepy."

"Cold and sleepy!" exclaimed Aunt Charlotte. "And the house collapsing
over your head. You seem to have had time to pull the bedclothes away,
though. That's very curious. What did you do that for?"

"I didn't," replied Austin.

"Then who did?" asked Aunt Charlotte, getting more and more excited.
"I do wish you'd be a little more communicative, Austin; I have to
drag every word out of you as though you were trying to hide
something. Who hung the bedclothes over the footrail if you didn't?"

"I can't tell you. I don't know. All I know is that I found them where
they are now when I woke up, and I woke up because I was so cold. Then
I got out of bed, and a minute afterwards down came all the bricks."

"Do you mean to tell me----" began Aunt Charlotte, in her most
scathing tones.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 21st Dec 2025, 6:50

Austin and His Friends by Frederic H. Balfour