William The Conqueror (22 page)

But once inside General Moult’s garden, they formed themselves boldly in fighting array. William, with his banner, was in the van. Behind him walked Ginger in his meat safe and behind
Ginger the other two. They marched up to the front door, meeting with no accident on the way, except that Ginger tripped over a stone and had to be helped up by his leader, as his coat of mail
imprisoned his arms.

The front door stood conveniently open. They marched in. Still meeting with no opposition, they entered the drawing-room. There stood the idol on a pedestal by the wall. William seized it with a
dramatic flourish and tucked it under his arm. Then they formed up again to march out. But by this time an enemy barred their way – an enormous woman in a print dress and a cooking apron. She
held a rolling-pin in her hand. It was General Moult’s cook.

‘Ye young blackguards!’ she roared with a thick brogue. ‘I’ll teach ye to come playin’ your tricks in dacent people’s houses, I will.’

She proceeded to impart the promised instruction. William and Douglas received boxes on the ear that sent them staggering out into the hall, and Henry received the full impact of the rolling-pin
in the small of his coat. Ginger’s coat of mail fulfilled its wearer’s highest expectations by receiving the full brunt of the cook’s palm, but disappointed him by dealing him a
startling blow on the head.

It says much for the Crusaders’ presence of mind that they withdrew with a certain degree of order. That is to say, William still carried his banner, Ginger his meat safe, Henry his
airgun, and Douglas his gardening fork. The idol lay (fortunately unbroken) on the hearthrug to mark the scene of the brief and inglorious conflict. The cook picked it up and replaced it with an
irate bang on its pedestal.

AN ENEMY BARRED THEIR WAY – A WOMAN IN A PRINT DRESS AND A COOKING APRON. SHE HELD A ROLLING-PIN.

The Outlaws ran too hard to find breath for speech till they had safely reached the road.

WILLIAM SEIZED THE IDOL AND TUCKED IT UNDER HIS ARM. THEN THEY FORMED UP TO MARCH OUT AGAIN.

‘No luck
there
!’

And Douglas said breathlessly: ‘Crumbs! Wasn’t she
wild
!’

And William, who was feeling slightly dizzy, added:

‘Well, let’s go home now. It mus’ be about tea-time.’

If it had not been for the banner and the coat of mail, probably the whole matter would have ended there. But William was proud of his banner and Ginger was proud of his coat of mail, and they
had much enjoyed the sensation of marching to battle thus bedecked, though they had to admit that the actual battle had proved a disappointment. So it was Ginger who found fresh fuel for their
crusading zeal and William who (to mix our metaphors) seized eagerly upon it.

Ginger arrived at the meeting place the next day breathless with excitement.

‘That Miss Frampton what lives at the end of the village,’ he said, ‘she’s a – a spirituist.’

‘What’s a spirit – what you said?’ demanded William sternly.

‘She – she worships things called meejums,’ said Douglas rather doubtfully.

‘What’s a meejum?’ demanded William.

‘It’s a sort of ghost,’ said Douglas.

‘Gosh!’ ejaculated Henry. ‘Fancy worshippin’ ghosts!’

‘Well, let’s go there,’ said Ginger, already girding on his meat safe.

‘All right,’ said William, taking up his banner.

The other two were less eager. ‘I can still feel her rolling-pin on my back,’ said Henry.

‘Well, we’re not goin’ to her this time,’ said William encouragingly. ‘We’re goin’ to someone quite different.’

‘Yes, but how d’you know they’ll be any better?’ said Douglas gloomily.

This question was unanswerable, so William wisely did not attempt to answer it. But they were not really reluctant to follow William’s leadership. They took up their weapons, and soon they
were walking down the road in the direction of Miss Frampton’s house. Once inside the garden gate they proudly displayed their warlike panoply, forming in order of battle, and marched up to
the front door – William first with his banner, then Ginger with his meat safe, then the other two.

The front door was open, but the Crusaders had had a salutary lesson in entering open front doors uninvited. They halted.

‘Better ring, p’raps!’ whispered Douglas hoarsely.

‘Yes,’ said William. ‘’S all very well for you to say that – right at the back. You can get away quick enough if anythin’ goes wrong.’

‘There’s someone in the garden,’ said Ginger. ‘Let’s go round there.’

So they marched round there.

A young man was in the garden. He came forward to meet them.

‘Hel-
lo
!’ he said in amazement.

‘We’ve come to see Miss Frampton,’ said William, scowling fiercely.

The young man read the legend on William’s banner and burst into a hearty laugh.

‘No, I don’t agree with you,’ he said. ‘I don’t agree with you at all. I’m in the middle of quite a promising one myself and I don’t agree with you . .
. By the way, may I introduce myself? I’m Miss Frampton’s nephew.’

A very pretty girl came out of the French windows of the house on to the lawn.

‘What’s the matter, Bobbie?’ she said laughing. ‘Who are they?’

He pointed an accusing finger at William’s banner.

‘They’re Puritans. They’re kill-joys. Look at ’em! Down with idyls, indeed! Don’t take any notice of them, Paula. Don’t listen to—’

‘We’ll
make
you,’ said William pugnaciously; ‘we’ll
fight
you!’

The young man at once squared his fists and adopted a fighting attitude.

‘All right,’ he said, ‘come on. I’ll take on the lot of you. Put down your guns and pitch-forks and— Come on.

‘DON’T TAKE ANY NOTICE OF THEM, PAULA,’ SAID THE YOUNG MAN.
‘WE’LL MAKE YOU,’ SAID WILLIAM PUGNACIOUSLY; ‘WE’LL FIGHT YOU!’

‘Come on!’ said the young man again.

They came on again and exactly the same thing happened.

‘Don’t hurt them, Bobbie,’ said the girl, still laughing.

‘I’m not hurting them,’ he said. ‘I’m only tickling them up a bit. Come on, now. Put some ginger into it this time.’

They came on. They put some ginger into it and they received some ginger in return.

William, as he crawled out of a holly bush, whither the impact of his ginger with the young man’s ginger had impelled him, decided in his capacity as leader that the exhibition was too
ignominious to be allowed to continue. He went to his banner and picked it up with the air of a guest preparing for departure.

‘We came to see Miss Frampton, not you,’ he said coldly to the young man.

‘Well, won’t you wait?’ said the young man. ‘She’ll be here any minute now.’

‘No, thank you,’ said William, ‘we’ll call again,’ and added ‘p’raps,’ for he was, on the whole, a truthful boy and didn’t mean to call
again. He didn’t mean ever to go anywhere where there was a possibility of meeting this young man again.

The other Crusaders picked up their weapons and accompanied him.

‘You put up a jolly good fight,’ called the girl after them. ‘He’s a light-weight champion.’

The Crusaders, slightly battered, walked home.

‘Well, it wouldn’t have been right to hurt him in front of her,’ said Ginger, whose gift for putting a good face on things amounted almost to genius.

‘He din’ seem to mind hurtin’ us,’ said Douglas bitterly.

‘He din’ mean to hurt us,’ said Henry judicially. ‘He’s just sort of made strong.’

They entered the barn and sat down.

‘Well,’ said Henry gloomily, ‘it doesn’t seem to be
comin
’ to much, does it? I can still feel where she hit me on the back with the rolling-pin yesterday,
an’ now I’ve got an awful bruise down my leg where he knocked me on to the path. I don’ wonder they got cross-legged if they got as much knockin’ about as what we’re
gettin’. I feel I’m goin’ to get cross-legged an’ cross-eyed an’ cross-armed an’ cross-everythinged if it goes on much longer.’

William had not been listening. He had been sitting on the ground by his beloved banner, gazing absently into vacancy, a frown upon his freckled face. And suddenly the frown faded from it and a
light seemed to shine forth. It was the light of inspiration. His followers knew it well. Their spirits rose when they saw it.

‘
I
know what we’ll do,’ said William. ‘You see,
Chapel’s
disbelievers, isn’t it? Well, on Sunday—’

The Crusaders gathered round and listened in breathless excitement.

It was rather a fortunate Sunday for William, because his father had gone away for the weekend and was not coming back till Monday morning.

William displayed an unusual willingness and punctuality in setting off for Sunday school. Had anyone cared to watch his departure (which nobody did) they would have noticed that he went out in
rather a furtive manner by the side gate, and that he carried with him a piece of white cardboard nailed to a broom-handle.

The Church Sunday school began at three o’clock, but the Chapel Sunday school began at quarter to three. It was generally supposed that this arrangement was an unprincipled attempt on the
part of the chapel to draw into their fold such mothers as considered an extra quarter of an hour’s peace on Sunday afternoon of more importance than many doctrines.

It was, however, the habit of the members of the Church Sunday school to assemble outside the school at about a quarter to three, in order, apparently, to work up their youthful spirits to that
pitch of exuberance necessary to the full enjoyment of Sunday school. The curate never came to unlock the door till the third stroke of three. He did not like Sunday school, and rather counted on
his pupils taking a quarter of an hour to get into their places before he need begin operations.

But this Sunday there was surging excitement outside the school. William and his supporters were making speeches, fiery speeches, inflammatory speeches, warlike speeches. William stood balanced
precariously on the edge of the rain butt and Ginger stood on a window sill. William held up his banner and Ginger held up his meat safe.

The members of the Sunday school understood little of the confused rhetoric delivered by William and Ginger. But they understood one thing quite clearly. They understood that instead of the
usual dreary repetition of collects and hymns, William was proposing a scrap of some sort under his leadership, and they hailed the idea with joy. When William ended his speech with the question:
‘Will you all come with us now and fight em?’ they answered ‘Yes’ as one boy, and cheered and turned somersaults to mark their complete agreement with his sentiments,
whatever they might be.

And out they surged into the main road. William walked first with his glorious banner and by his side walked Ginger in his glorious meat safe. The others followed behind, a seething, dancing,
scuffling, singing crowd of small boys all eager for the fight that William had promised them. One small boy had dashed home for a trumpet, which he blew loudly and incessantly all along the road.
People watched the strange procession from the windows, open-mouthed with astonishment.