A Reputed Changeling | Page 7

possesses the child by the use
of the rod. I should fail in my duty alike to God and man," he added, in
reply to a fresh gesture of intercession, "did I not teach him what it is to
insult a lady at mine own door."

Mrs. Woodford could only go away, heartily sorry for the boy. From
that time, however, both she and her little daughter were untouched by
his tricks, though every one else had some complaint. Peas were shot
from unknown recesses at venerable canons, mice darted out before
shrieking ladies, frogs' clammy forms descended on the nape of their
necks, hedgehogs were curled up on their chairs, and though Peregrine
Oakshott was not often caught in the act, no mischief ever took place
that was not attributed to him; and it was popularly believed in the
Close that his father flogged him every morning for what he was about
to do, and his tutor repeated the castigation every evening for what he
had done, besides interludes at each detection.
Perhaps frequent usage had toughened his skin, or he had become
expert in wriggling from the full force of the blow, or else, as many
believed, the elfish nature was impervious; for he was as ready as ever
for a trick the moment he was released, like, as his brother said, the dog
Keeper, who, with a slaughtered chick hung round his neck in penance,
rushed murderously upon the rest of the brood.
Yet Mrs. Woodford, on her way through the Cathedral nave, was aware
of something leaning against one of the great columns, crouching
together so that the dark head, supported on the arms, rested against the
pillar which fluted the pier. The organ was pealing softly and
plaintively, and the little gray coat seemed to heave as with a sob. She
stood, impelled to offer to take him with her into the choir, but a verger,
spying him, began rating him in a tone fit for expelling a dog, "Come,
master, none of your pranks here! Be not you ashamed of yourself to be
lying in wait for godly folk on their way to prayers? If I catch you here
again the Dean shall hear of it, and you shall smart for it."
Mrs. Woodford began, "He was only hearkening to the music," but she
caught such a look of malignity cast upon the verger as perfectly
appalled her, and in another moment the boy had dashed, head over
heels, out at the nearest door.
The next report that reached her related how a cloud of lime had
suddenly descended from a broken arch of the cloister on the solemn
verger, on his way to escort the Dean to the Minster, powdering his wig,

whitening his black gown from collar to hem, and not a little
endangering his eyesight.
The culprit eluded all pursuit on this occasion; but Mrs. Woodford soon
after was told that the Major had caught Peregrine listening at the little
south door of the choir, had collared him, and flogged him worse than
ever, for being seduced by the sounds of the popish and idolatrous
worship, and had told all his sons that the like chastisement awaited
them if they presumed to cross the threshold of the steeple house.
Nevertheless the Senior Prefect of the college boys, when about to
come out of the Cathedral on Sunday morning, found his gown pinned
with a skewer so fast to the seat that he was only set free at the expense
of a rent. Public opinion decided that the deed had been done by the
imp of Oakshott, and accordingly the whole of the Wykeham scholars
set on him with hue and cry the first time they saw him outside the
Close, and hunted him as far as St. Cross, where he suddenly and
utterly vanished from their sight.
Mrs. Woodford agreed with Anne that it was a very strange story. For
how could he have been in the Cathedral at service time when it was
well known that Major Oakshott had all his family together at his own
form of worship in his house? Anne, who had been in hopes that her
mother would be thus convinced of his supernatural powers, looked
disappointed, but she had afterwards to confess that Charles Archfield
had found out that it was his cousin Sedley Archfield who had played
the audacious trick, in revenge for a well-merited tunding from the
Prefect.
"And then saddled it on young Oakshott?" asked her mother.
"Charley says one such matter more or less makes no odds to the Whig
ape; but I cannot endure Sedley Archfield, mamma."
"If he lets another lad bear the blame of his malice he cannot indeed be
a good lad."
"So Charley and Lucy say," returned Anne.