Peter Dickinson - Changes 03 by The Weathermonger

Author:The Weathermonger
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

VIII THE TOWER

He had left the piebald horse and Maddox. Also a square of red cloth containing some bread and mutton and a letter.

Dear Colleague,

I know you will understand when I tell you that I have changed my mind. I am not really (as you so evidently are) the stuff of which high adventures are made. So, learning that there was a decent billet for a weathermonger of my abilities at Weymouth, I realized that it ill became me to deprive you of a share in the honor and glory (if any). You have but twenty miles to go, while I have half a country. I was sure (and therefore decided that it was kindest not to wake you) that you would, in the circumstances, have pressed upon me a loan which it would have

been embarrassing to refuse. If the burghers of Weymouth are as free with their money as your sister implies, I shall be in a position to repay you next time you pass that way, when no doubt we shall have much to talk about.

Meanwhile I remain your devoted admirer Cyril Camperdown (not, of course, my real name) P.S. You should be able to sell the piebald for two sovereigns (ask three) provided you don’t let the purchaser inspect his left hind foot. Maddox might be edible, stewed very slowly for several hours.

Sally said “He never liked poor Maddox, not since he bit him.”

Geoffrey said “What are we going to do?”

“What he says, I think, except for eating Maddox. If it’s really only twenty miles, we could sell your horse and take turns to ride Maddox, and we ought to be there for supper.”

“And what then?”

“Oh, Jeff, I don’t think that’s a very sensible question. Absolutely anything might happen, so there’s no point in thinking about it, like you said last night. I think we’ve done jolly well to get as far as we have done, honestly.”

“I expect you’re right.”

He felt muddled by the weatherman’s treachery — sorry that somebody who he’d liked and who had been helpful should turn out such a stinker; glad to be on their own again. They ate the bread and mutton and decided on a story — Sally couldn’t cope with Geoffrey remaining officially dumb. It seemed easiest to stick to the weatherman’s basic lie, simply adding that they’d been sent ahead but had missed their master on the road and had to sell the piebald to get home.

This worked surprisingly well. The first farm they tried didn’t want another horse, but gave them each a mug of milk for nothing. The second was full of squalling dogs so they gave it a miss. But at the third the farmer seemed interested. Geoffrey held the piebald and Sally kept Maddox as close to the suspect foot as she could. The farmer went through the ritual of prodding and feeling, but when he came round to the off hind quarter and bent down Sally gave Maddox a little more rope and he lunged and bit the farmer’s ear.

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