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The Weathercock: Being the Adventures of a Boy with a Bias, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 16. A Lesson On Steam |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A LESSON ON STEAM Half-stunned, confused, and wondering, Vane Lee awoke to the fact that he really was lying upon the carpet at the side of his bed, and for a few moments, he felt that he must have fallen out; but, in an indistinct fashion, he began to realise that he had heard a tremendous noise in his sleep, and started so violently that he had rather thrown himself than fallen out of bed, while to prove to him that there was something terribly wrong, there were loud shrieks from the lower part of the house, and from the passage came his uncle's voice. "Vane, my lad, quick! jump up!" "It's an earthquake," panted Vane, as he hurried on his clothes, listening the while with fear and trembling, to the screams which still rose at intervals from below. "That's Eliza's voice," he thought, and directly after as he waited, full of excitement, for the next shock, and the crumbling down of the house, "That's cook." Almost at the same moment a peculiar odour came creeping in beneath and round the door; and Vane, as he forced a reluctant button through the corresponding hole with fumbling fingers took a long sniff. "'Tisn't an earthquake," he thought; "that's gunpowder!" The next moment, after trying to think of what gunpowder there was on the premises, and unable to recall any, he was for attributing the explosion, for such he felt it to be, to some of the chemicals in the laboratory. That idea he quickly dismissed, for the screams were from the kitchen, and he was coming round to the earthquake theory again, when a thought flashed through his brain, and he cried aloud in triumph, just as the doctor threw open his door:-- "It is gunpowder." "Smells like it, boy," cried the doctor, excitedly, "but I had none. Had you?" "No, uncle," cried Vane, as a fresh burst of screaming, arose; "but it's cook. She has been blowing up the copper hole to make the fire draw." "Come along! That's it!" cried the doctor. "Stupid woman! I hope she is not much burned." This all took place as they were hurrying down into the hall, where the odour was stifling now: that dank, offensive, hydrogenous smell which is pretty familiar to most people, and as they hurried on to the kitchen from which the cries for help came more faintly now, they entered upon a dimly-seen chaos of bricks, mortar, broken crockery, and upset kitchen furniture. "A pound of powder at least," cried the doctor, who then began to sneeze violently, the place being full of steam, and dust caused by the ceiling having been pretty well stripped of plaster. "Here, cook--Eliza--where are you?" "Oh, master, master, master!" "Help!--help!--help!" Two wild appeals for aid from the back kitchen, where the copper was set, and into which uncle and nephew hurried, expecting to find the two maids half buried in _debris_. But, to the surprise of both, that office was quite unharmed, and cook was seated in a big Windsor chair, sobbing hysterically, while Eliza was on the floor, screaming faintly with her apron held over her face. "How could you be so foolish!--how much powder?--where did you get it?-- where are you hurt?" rattled out the doctor breathlessly. "Anything the matter, cook?" said Bruff, coming to the door. "Matter? Yes," cried the doctor, growing cool again. "Here, help me lift Eliza into a chair." "No, no, don't touch me; I shall fall to pieces," sobbed the maid wildly. "Nonsense! Here, let me see where you are hurt," continued the doctor, as Eliza was lifted carefully. "Oh, Master Vane--oh, Master Vane! Is it the end of the world?" groaned cook, as the lad took one of her hands, and asked her where she was injured. "No, no," cried Vane. "Tell me where you are harmed." "I don't know--I don't know--I don't know," moaned the trembling woman, beginning in a very high tone and ending very low. "It's all over--It's all over now." "Give her water," said the doctor. "She's hysterical. Here, cook," he cried sternly, "how came you to bring powder into the house?" "I don't know--I don't know--I don't know," moaned the trembling woman. "Oh, master, give me something. Don't let me die just yet." "Die! nonsense!" cried the doctor. "Be quiet, Eliza. Hang it, women, I can't do anything if you cry out like this. Wherever are you hurt? You, Eliza, speak." His firm way had its effect; and as Bruff and Vane stood looking on, the maid faltered:-- "I was a-doing the breakfast-room, sir, when it went off; and, soon as I heered cook scream, I tried to get to her, but had to go round by the back." "Did you know she was going to blow up the copper hole with gunpowder?" "No, sir. Last time I see her, she was lighting the kitchen-fire." "What!" yelled Vane. "Yes, sir," cried cook, sitting up suddenly, and speaking indignantly: "and I won't stop another day in a house where such games is allowed. I'd got a good fire by half-past six, and was busy in the back kitchen when it went off. Me get powder to blow up copper holes? I scorn the very idee of it, sir. It's that master Vane put powder among the coals to play me a trick." "I didn't," cried Vane. "Don't say that, sir," interposed Bruff, "why, I see the greenhouse chockfull o' smoke as I come by." Vane had turned quite cold, and was staring at his uncle, while his uncle with his face full of chagrin and perplexity was staring at him. "You've done it this time, my boy," said the doctor, sadly. "Is anybody killed?--is anybody killed?" cried Aunt Hannah from the hall. "I can't come through the kitchen. My dear Vane! oh, do speak." "No one hurt," shouted the doctor. "Come, Vane." He led the way through the shattered kitchen, which was a perfect wreck; but before he could reach the hall, Vane had passed him. "Aunt! Aunt!" he cried; "did you tell cook not to light the kitchen-fire?" "Oh, dear me!" cried Aunt Hannah; "what a head I have. I meant to, but I quite forgot." There was silence in the hall for a few moments, only broken by a sob or two from the back kitchen. Then Aunt Hannah spoke again. "Oh, I am so sorry, my dear. But is anybody very badly hurt?" "Yes," said the doctor, dryly. "Vane is--very." "My dear, my dear! Where?" cried Aunt Hannah, catching the lad by the arm. "Only in his _amour propre_" said the doctor, and Vane ran out of the hall and through the front door to get round to the greenhouse, but as he opened the door of the glass building the doctor overtook him, and they entered in silence, each looking round eagerly for the mischief done. Here it was not serious: some panes of glass were broken, and two or three pipes nearest to the wall were blown out of their places; but there was the cause of all mischief, the two taps in the small tubes which connected the flow and return pipes were turned off, with the consequence, that there was no escape for the steam, and the closed boiler had of course exploded as soon as sufficient steam had generated, with the consequences seen. "Pretty engineer you are, sir," cried the doctor, "to have both those stop-cocks turned." "There ought not to have been a second one, uncle," said Vane dolefully. "I let them get the better of me yesterday, and put in the second. If it had not been for that, one pipe would have been always open, and there could have been no explosion." "Humph! I see," said the doctor. "But I ought to have left them turned on, and I should have done so, only I did not think that there was going to be any fire this morning." "Here, come back, and let's see the extent of the mischief in the kitchen. That piece of new wall is blown out, you see." He pointed to the loose bricks and mortar thrust out into quite a bow; and then they walked sadly back into the house, where cook's voice could be heard scolding volubly, mingled with Aunt Hannah's milder tones, though the latter could hardly be heard as they entered the devastated kitchen, from which the smoke and dust had now pretty well disappeared, making the damage plain to see. And very plain it was: the new boiler stood in front of the grate, with a hole ripped in one side, the wrought iron being forced out by the power of the steam, just as if it had been composed of paper; the kitchen range was broken, and the crockery on the dresser exactly opposite to the fireplace looked as if it had been swept from the shelves and smashed upon the floor. Chairs were overturned; the table was lying upon its side; tins, coppers, graters, spoons and ladles were here, there, and everywhere. The clock had stopped, and the culinary implements that ornamented the kitchen chimney-piece had evidently flown up to the ceiling. In short, scarcely a thing in the place had escaped some damage, while dust and fragments of plaster covered every object, and the only witness of the explosion, the cat, which had somehow been sheltered and escaped unhurt, was standing on the top of the cupboard, with its eyes glowering and its tail standing straight up, feathered out like a plume. "Oh, my dear, my dear, what a scene!" cried Aunt Hannah, piteously. "Vane must never perform any more experiments here." She had just come to the back kitchen-door, and was looking in. "Oh, Aunt! Aunt!" cried Vane. "All very well to blame the poor boy," said the doctor with mock severity. "It was your doing entirely." "Mine, Thomas!" faltered Aunt Hannah. "Of course it was. You were told not to have the kitchen-fire lit." "Yes--yes," wailed Aunt Hannah; "and I forgot it." "It was not only that, Aunt, dear," said Vane, going to her side, and taking her hand. "It was my unlucky experiment was the principal cause." "Not another day, Eliza," came from the back kitchen. "No, no, not if they went down on their bended knees and begged me to stop." "What, amongst all this broken crockery?" cried the doctor. "Hold your tongue, you stupid woman, and send Bruff to ask his wife to come and help clear up all this mess." Cook, invisible in the back, uttered a defiant snort. "Ah!" shouted the doctor. "Am I master here. See to a fire there at once, and I should like one of those delicious omelettes for my breakfast, cook. Let's have breakfast as soon as you can. There, no more words. Let's be very thankful that you were neither of you badly scalded. You heard what I said, Bruff?" "Yes, sir, of course." "Then go and fetch your wife directly. Cook will give you some breakfast here." Bruff scurried off, and Eliza entered the kitchen, wiping her eyes. "Bit of a fright for you, eh, my girl?" said the doctor, taking her hand, and feeling her pulse. "Well done! Brave little woman. You are as calm as can be again. You're not going to run away at a moment's notice." "Oh, no, sir," cried Eliza eagerly. "Nor cook neither," said the doctor aloud. "She's too fond of us to go when we are in such a state as this." There was a sniff now from the back kitchen and the doctor gave Vane a humorous look, as much as to say, "I can manage cook better than your aunt." "There, my dear," he said, "it's of no use for you to cry over spilt milk. Better milk the cow again and be more careful. See what is broken by and by, and then come to me for a cheque. Vane, my boy, send a letter up at once for another boiler." "But surely, dear--" began Aunt Hannah. "I am not about to have the boiler set there again? Indeed I am. Vane is not going to be beaten because we have had an accident through trusting others to do what we ought to have done for ourselves. There, come and let's finish dressing; and cook!" "Yes, sir," came very mildly from the back kitchen, in company with the crackling of freshly-lit wood. "You'll hurry the breakfast all you can." "Yes, sir." "Don't feel any the worse now, do you?" "No, sir, only a little ketchy about the throat." "Oh, I'll prescribe for that." "Thank you, sir, but it will be better directly," said cook hastily. "After you've taken my dose, make yourself a good strong cup of tea. Come along, my dear. Now, Vane, your face wants washing horribly, my boy. Hannah, my dear, you understand now the tremendous force of steam." "Yes, my dear," said Aunt Hannah, sorrowfully. "I do indeed." "And if ever in the future you see anyone sitting upon the safety valve to get up speed, don't hesitate for a moment, go and knock him off." "My dear Thomas," said Aunt Hannah, dolefully, "this is no subject for mirth." "Eh? Isn't it? I think it is. Why, some of us might have been scalded to death, and we have all escaped. Don't you call that a cause for rejoicing? What do you say, Vane?" "I say, sir, that I shall never forgive myself," replied the lad sadly. "Not your place, Weathercock, but mine, and your aunt's. I'll forgive you freely, and as for your aunt, she can't help it because she was partly to blame." _ |
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