It was fully an hour later before it occurred to him that he was running
north, but he did not change direction.
* * * * *
Teresa was informed of Ortho’s sensational departure two days later. The
school authorities sent to Bosula, expecting to find the boy had
returned home and were surprised that he had not. Where had he got to?
Teresa had an idea that he was hiding somewhere in the district, and
combed it thoroughly, but Ortho was not forthcoming. The gypsy camp was
long deserted, and Jacky’s George had gone to visit his Scillonian
sister by the somewhat circuitous route of Guernsey.
It occurred to her that he might be lying up in the valley,
surreptitiously fed by Eli, and put Bohenna on to beat it out, but the
old hind drew blank. She then determined that he was with the tinners
around St. Just (a sanctuary for many a wanted Cornishman), and since
there was no hope of extricating him from their underground labyrinths
the only thing to do was to wait. He’d come home in time, she said, and
promised the boy a warm reception when he did.
Then came a letter from Pyramus Herne—dictated to a public letter
writer. Pyramus was at Ashburton buying Dartmoor ponies and Ortho was
with him. Pyramus was profuse with regrets and disclaimed all
responsibility. Ortho had caught up with him at Launceston, foot-sore,
ragged, starving, terrified—but adamant. He, Pyramus, had chided him,
begged him to return, even offered to lend him a horse to carry him back
to Helston or Bosula, but Ortho absolutely refused to do
either—declaring that rather than return he would kill himself. What
was to be done? He could not turn a friendless and innocent boy adrift
to starve or be maltreated by the beggars, snatch-purses and loose women
who swarmed into the roads at that season of the year. What was he to
do? He respectfully awaited Teresa’s instructions, assuring her that in
the meanwhile Ortho should have the best his poor establishment afforded
and remained her ladyship’s obedient and worshipful servant, etc.
Teresa took the letter to the St. Gwithian parish clerk to be read and
bit her lip when she learnt the contents. The clerk asked her if she
wanted a reply written, but she shook her head and went home. Ortho
could not be brought back from Devon handcuffed and kept chained in his
room. There was nothing to be done.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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