The Annam Jewel Read Online Free PDF Page B

the letter would give them two days’ clear start.

CHAPTER IV
    Peter started on his journey at eleven o’clock next morning. Charlotte Oakley said good-bye to him in the hall with a hard, brief kiss and a smile of relief, but Ruth Spottiswoode came with him to the station. She embarrassed Peter very much by giving him a hug and several real kisses under the very eyes of his fellow-travellers. At the last minute she gave him ten shillings. Peter saw her dabbing her eyes as the train glided out of the station.
    At Waterloo he collected his luggage, had it put on a taxi, and drove to Victoria. By dint of asking questions, he discovered that Parberry, the station for St. Gunburga’s, was on a branch line, and that there was no direct connection with Ledlington. There was a train for Parberry in half an hour; he would have to change twice. After some thought he deposited his boxes in the left-luggage office. There was a tin play-box and a worn leather trunk. At the last moment he opened the trunk, rummaged in it, and brought out a white sweater and a grey woollen scarf. At the third attempt he succeeded in cramming these into his bag, which bulged horribly. He then made his way to the platform and waited for his train.
    Presently he was sitting in a corner seat, watching rows of little houses slide past. He felt very much pleased with himself. The plan had worked beautifully. There had, to be sure, been one terrible moment when Ruth Spottiswoode, fluttering, had murmured:
    â€œHe is rather young to go all across London by himself. Don’t you think , Charlotte, that it would be better if “I saw him off at Victoria? Wouldn’t you like me to see you off at Victoria, Peter dear?”
    Charlotte Oakley said, “Nonsense!” very sharply.
    Peter said, “No, Cousin Ruth,” in a tone so final that the threatened danger was averted.
    As the train jerked onwards he reviewed his financial position. It had been immensely strengthened by Cousin Ruth’s parting gift.
    Peter had his own code, an odd one, but quite unbending. The journey money which was to take him to Ledlington was in a pocket by itself. Peter had drawn on it until he reached Victoria. He would draw on it again when he returned to Victoria, but the excursion to Parberry and all expenses incidental thereto were his own private affair, and must be paid for out of his own private money.
    Miles Banham had given him a sovereign three months ago. Just how much resolution and self-denial it had taken to preserve that sovereign intact throughout the term, only Peter knew. He regretted that he had not been able to save any of his pocketmoney to speak of. His assets, therefore, were one sovereign, one half-sovereign, a sixpence, a threepenny bit which he had forgotten to put into the plate on Sunday, and fourpence halfpenny in coppers. Peter segregated the entire amount in his safest pocket, and felt pleasantly affluent.
    An hour later he alighted at Parberry station, where he purchased with his sixpence three ham sandwiches, all very dry, and with his threepenny bit of cup of strong and boiling tea. He felt annoyed about the tea; ginger-beer would have been nicer.
    He gave up his ticket, left the station, and, wandering into a small and very dirty sweet-shop, inquired the way to St. Gunburga’s. He also bought a pennyworth of acid drops—Rose Ellen liked acid drops.
    He learnt that St. Gunburga’s lay a mile out of Parberry.
    â€œYou can’t miss it,” said the sweet-shop woman. “’Orrid, great staring barrack of a place. Looks as if they scrubbed it hall over hevery day. Perreps they do,” she added, patting a large flat fringe. She was a short, bulging young woman with an odd black eye, the sort that always seems to be looking round a corner at something which nobody else can see. Peter didn’t like her very much, but he was out for information.
    â€œIs it a nice place?” he asked, spinning his