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"I--dare--_say_!" cried Aunt Charlotte, in her highest key. "So that's
what you're aiming at, is it? Oh, you're a cunning boy, my dear, if
ever there was one. But your little project would cost at least four
times as much as I propose to spend to-day, and for that reason alone
it's not to be thought of for a moment. What in creation ever put such
an idea into your head?"

"I don't want to come with you in the very least, really--especially
as you don't want to have me," replied Austin. "But I do wish you'd
give up your idea of going to London by the 10.27 this morning. If
you'll only do that I don't care for anything else. Take the same
train to-morrow, if you like, but not to-day. That's all I have to ask
you."

"But why--why--why?" demanded Aunt Charlotte, in not unnatural
amazement.

"I can't tell you why," said Austin. "It wouldn't be any use."

"You are the very absurdest child I ever came across!" exclaimed Aunt
Charlotte. "I've often had to put up with your fancies, but never with
any so outrageously unreasonable as this. Now not another word. I'm
going to travel by the 10.27 this morning, and if you like to come and
see me off, you're at perfect liberty to do so."

Austin made no reply, and breakfast proceeded in silence. Then he
glanced at the clock, and saw that it was ten minutes to nine. As soon
as the meal was finished, he rose from his chair and moved slowly
towards the door.

"You still intend to go by the----"

"Hold your tongue!" snapped his aunt. Whereupon Austin left the room
without another word. Then he stumped his way upstairs and was not
seen again. Aunt Charlotte, meanwhile, began preparations for her
journey. It was now close on nine o'clock, and she had to order the
dinner, see that she had sufficient money for her expenses, choose a
bonnet for travelling in, and look after half-a-dozen other important
trifles before setting out to catch the railway omnibus at the
Peacock. At last Austin, waiting behind a door, heard her enter her
room to dress. Very gently he stole out with something in his pocket,
and two minutes afterwards was standing on the lawn with his straw
hat tilted over his eyes, chattering with Lubin about tubers, corms,
and bulbs, potting and bedding-out, and other pleasant mysteries of
garden-craft.

It was not very long, however, before a singular bustle was heard on
the first floor. Maids ran scuttling up and down stairs, voices
resounded through the open windows, and then came the sound of thumps,
as of somebody vigorously battering at a door. Austin turned round,
and began walking towards the house. He was met by old Martha, who
seemed to be in a tremendous fluster about something.

"Master Austin! Master Austin! Oh, here you are. What in the world is
to be done? Your aunt's locked up in her bedroom, and nobody can find
the key!"

"Is that all?" answered Austin calmly. "Then she'll have to stay there
till it turns up, evidently."

"But the mistress says she's sure you know all about it," panted
Martha, in great distress, "and she's in a most terrible taking. Now,
Master Austin, I do beseech you--'tain't no laughing matter, for the
omnibus starts in a few minutes, and your aunt----"

A terrific banging was now heard from the locked-up room, accompanied
by shouts and cries from the imprisoned lady. Austin advanced to the
foot of the staircase, looking rather white, and listened.

"Austin! Austin! Where are you? What have you done with the key?"
shrieked Aunt Charlotte, in a tempest of despair and rage. "Let me
out, I say, let me out at once! It's you who have done this, I know it
is. Open the door, or I shall lose the train!" A fresh bombardment
from the lady's fists here followed. "Where _is_ Austin, Martha? Can't
you find him anywhere?"

"He's here, ma'am," cried back Martha, in quavering tones, "but he
don't seem as if----"

"Call Lubin with a ladder!" interrupted the desperate lady. "I must
catch the omnibus, if I break all my bones in getting out of the
window. Where's Lubin? Isn't there a ladder tall enough? Austin!
Austin! Where _is_ Austin, and why doesn't he open the door?"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 22nd Dec 2025, 17:03

Austin and His Friends by Frederic H. Balfour