William the Good (9 page)

The Archers waved their bows and arrows and cheered enthusiastically. This was better than practising at a target. This was better even than shooting scarecrows.

‘Let’s go now,’ said William and added cautiously, ‘jus’ to have a look at ’em first. We mus’ make plans careful before we start fightin’
’em.’

The band of Archers marched joyously down the road still cheering and waving bows and arrows.

At the gate of the large field they stopped and gazed at the scene. There were small tents and big tents, and everywhere soldiers were hurrying to and fro or standing talking in groups.

‘There’s some officers in that tent,’ said William, ‘an’ I bet if you went up to it you’d find ’em talkin’ foreign langwidges.’

‘Well, go up to it an’ see,’ challenged Ginger.

‘All right, I will,’ said William promptly accepting the challenge.

Watched in a thrilled silence by his Archers he went further down the road till he was just behind the tent, then he wriggled through the hedge. William had through long experience brought
wriggling through hedges to a fine art. Then he crawled up to the tent and daringly lifted it an inch or so, placing his ear to the aperture. Inside were two young officers. The first had just
said:

‘I saw this old man coming out of the Blue Boar this morning.’ And just as William lifted the flap and applied his ear to it, the other was replying:

‘
Honi soit qui mal y pense.
’

William replaced the flap, crawled back to the hedge and wriggled through to the road.

‘They were talkin’ foreign langwidges,’ he said excitedly, ‘foreign langwidges wot I couldn’t under stand a word of—’

The Archers cheered loudly. So stimulated were they by the prospect of adventure, that they would have been bitterly disappointed had William brought back any other report.

‘Well, we’ve gotta make
plans
,’ said William, assuming a stern and thoughtful demeanour.

‘’Sno good
rushin
’ at ’em, straight away. There’s more of them than what there is of us. We’ve found out –
I’ve
found out, I mean
– that they’re a foreign enemy. Well, we’ve gotter save the country from ’em. That’s what we’ve gotter do. But it’s no good
rushin
’ at
’em before we’ve made plans. We’ve gotta make
plans
first. An’ we’ve gotter be
cunnin
’ as well as brave ’cause there’s so many more of
them than what there is of us. We’ve gotter find out first who’s the head of ’em an’ we’ve gotter do it without – without arousin’ their
suspicions.’

The Archers cheered again lustily.

They would have cheered William now whatever he had said. The longed-for adventure had come. They were willing to trust themselves blindly and joyously to William’s sole leadership. Ginger
felt that William was having rather more than his fair share of the limelight.

‘I’ll find out who’s the head of ’em,’ he offered. ‘I bet it’s a dang’rous thing to do but I bet I do it all right.’

The Archers cheered Ginger.

‘I bet it’s no more dang’rous than seein’ if they were talkin’ in foreign langwidges,’ challenged William.

Ginger’s proud spirit had been assuaged by the Archers’ cheers. He felt that he could afford to be generous.

‘No, it’s just about the same,’ he conceded.

He wriggled through the hole which had been left in the hedge by the passage of William’s solid body and began to creep very cautiously along the tents, peeping under each to see their
interior. At one he evidently made a discovery of a sensational nature. He turned round, made excited but incomprehensible signs to the Outlaws who were watching over the hedge, then began to crawl
back. He plunged through the hole and began at once.

‘I’ve found the head of ’em. He’s a big fat man with a red face an’ a white moustache an’ he’s sittin’ at a table lookin’ at a
map.’

‘Well, that
proves
it,’ said William equally excited, ‘that
proves
it. If he wasn’t foreign he wun’t need to be lookin’ at a map, would he? If
he was really English like what they pretend to be he wun’t need to be lookin’ at a map of England. He’d’ve done England at school in Geography.’

The Archers agreed that the logic of this was unassailable.

William continued:

‘Well, now that’s the first thing we’ve gotter do. We’ve gotter take his map off him. I said it was no use
rushin
’ at ’em an’ we’d gotter
be cunnin’. Well, that’s the first cunnin’ thing we’ve gotter do. We’ve gotter take his map off him an’ then you see he won’t know what to do or where he
is or anythin’.’

‘Well,’ said Ginger hastily, ‘I’ve done enough findin’ out about who he is. I’m not goin’ to take his map off him.’

‘No,’ said William, ‘it’s time Douglas did something.’

The Archers cheered this.

It was well known that Douglas did not care to expose himself unnecessarily to danger. But Douglas received the suggestion with stoic courage. Despite his preference for a quiet life, Douglas
was no coward.

‘All right,’ he said resignedly, ‘jus’ tell me how to do it, an’ I’ll do it.’

But the discussion was interrupted by the sight of the big fat man with the red face and white moustache emerging from his tent, map in hand.

‘There he is!’ hissed Ginger. ‘Din’ I
tell
you? Map’n all!’

With eyes starting out of their heads the Archers watched the progress of the red-faced warrior as he came slowly down the field his eyes still fixed on the map outspread in his hands.

‘Wonder what he’s thinkin’ about,’ said Ginger.

‘Whatever he’s thinkin’ about,’ said William knowingly, ‘I bet he’s thinkin’ about it in a foreign langwidge.’

The fat, red-faced man was coming to the gate of the field. His eyes still fixed on the map, he came out into the road.

The Archers, looking round for a hiding-place, saw none but the ditch into which they hastily precipitated themselves. The man came slowly down the road, still looking at the map. He passed the
Archers crouching in the ditch. The sight of the enemy thus within his grasp was too much for William. Without waiting to consider or reason William acted.

General Bastow, walking peaceably down the road studying his map as he went, was amazed to see a boy suddenly scramble up out of the ditch by the roadside. A moment later he was still more
amazed to receive the full force of the boy’s bullet-head in his stomach, and to be forced by its sheer iron weight into a sitting posture in the dust. For a moment physical agony blinded him
to everything but the outrage committed by that dastardly boy upon his digestive organs. Then his vision cleared. He found his map gone and a boy disappearing on the horizon. It was not General
Bastow’s habit to receive any outrage sitting down (except as in this case inadvertently). With a roar of fury he set off in pursuit, less in order to recover his map (of which he had other
copies) than in order to inflict condign punishment upon the person of his assailant. But it was not for nothing that William was pursued regularly and unavailingly by all the local farmers.
William’s life had perforce been largely spent in throwing off pursuers. When General Bastow, plum-coloured and panting, had reached the crossroads, there was no sign of William anywhere. It
seemed futile to continue the pursuit, so the elderly warrior, panting and rumbling like a threatening volcano, returned slowly back along the road to the gate, which led into the field, and back
into his tent. When he had finally disappeared, still rumbling furiously, into his tent, the Archers scrambled out of the ditch in an awestruck silence and went towards the crossroads where William
had vanished.

There they saw William emerging, jaunty and unshaken, from behind a hayrick in a neighbouring field, carrying the map. He joined them on the road.

‘Well,’ he chuckled, ‘
now
they’ll be in a nice fix. They jolly well won’t know what to do without the map. They won’t know where they are or
anythin’. I say’ – with a reminiscent chuckle – ‘din’t he go down with a flop?’ Then with his own inimitable swagger: ‘My head’s jolly strong.
I bet there’s jolly well no one I can’t knock over with my head.’

‘What’ll we do next?’ said Ginger joyfully.

‘Oh, jus’ watch ’em for a bit,’ said William, ‘they won’t know what to do without their map.’

GENERAL BRISTOW RECEIVED THE FULL FORCE OF WILLIAM’S BULLET-HEAD IN HIS STOMACH.

Next day every movement of the innocent company of territorials was interpreted by William as one of utter bewilderment and despair.

‘Look at ’em, marchin’ down there, ’cause that’s where they saw me go off with the map an’ they’re tryin’ to find it. They dunno what to do
without it. Look at that one goin’ into the village. He’s going’ to try’n buy another map an’ he won’t be able to ’cause they don’t keep ’em.
Look at that one postin’ a letter. He’s writin’ off to the foreign country they come from to tell ’em that they’ve had the map took and to ask ’em what to
do.’

THE ARCHERS, CROUCHING IN THE DITCH, LOOKED ON, HORROR-STRICKEN.

The great discovery was when he found a company of them digging a trench, at the end of the field.

‘Look at ’em. They’re givin’ up tryin’ to conquer England now they’ve had their map took off them an’ they daren’t go home by ship, same as they
came, because they know now that someone knows about ’em with getting their map stole – so look at ’em. I bet they live at the other side of the world an’ they’re
tryin’ to dig themselves through back to their homes, you know, ’cause of the world bein’ round like what they say it is in Geography.’

The Archers were so pleased with his idea that they cheered again lustily. Its only drawback was that few of them had really in their hearts ever subscribed to the theory that the earth is
round. As Douglas said – when they began now to discuss the idea afresh:

‘Stands to reason, dun’t it, that folks can’t walk about upside down like flies. They’d drop off the earth altogether. Even if they tried holdin’ on by trees
an’ things they’d be sure to drop off in the end. Ships couldn’t stay in the sea either. They’d drop out.’

‘And the sea can’t stay there neither,’ said Ginger, elaborating the theme. ‘You can’t have water stayin’ in a place upside down without any thin’ to
keep it in. It’d spill out.’

‘Well, what’re we going’ to do about this foreign army?’ said an Archer who was not interested in the problematical shape of the earth.

‘Jus’ wait an’ watch ’em for a bit still,’ said William. ‘We’ve got their map. They can’t do anythin’ without their map.’

But by the end of the next day both William and his Archers had tired of waiting and watching.

They felt that the time was ripe for some decisive coup, and so they met in William’s back garden to decide what form exactly the coup should take. William led the discussion.

‘I votes,’ he said, ‘that we get the general man away from them somehow. Then when we attack them they’ll have no one to tell’m what to do. They’ll be without
a leader an’ we’ll easy be able to put ’em to flight.’

‘Yes, but
how’ll
we get the ole general away from them?’ demanded the Archers.

‘Well, we’ll talk about that now,’ said William. So they talked about that.

The next evening was the last evening of the manoeuvres and there was a relaxed atmosphere about the camp. General Bastow set off to dine with an acquaintance who lived at the
further end of the village, though the General wasn’t quite sure where, as he’d never visited him before at home. Dusk was falling as he walked along the road. He had been terribly
bored by the manoeuvres and he still hadn’t forgotten that brutal attack perpetrated upon him in broad daylight by that dastardly young ruffian. He was certain that his liver had never been
the same since. He still had hopes of meeting that young ruffian face to face. He’d never come across a place with so many boys in it. Crowds of boys seemed to have been watching the camp
ever since they settled there, peeping over the hedge, following men and officers about. He was rather short-sighted, and he hadn’t had time to look for that young ruffian again, but
he’d know him if he saw him. He turned a corner of the road and suddenly came across a small boy crying bitterly. It was the youngest Archer, but the General, of course, could not know this,
nor could the General know that the whole body of Archers was concealed in the muddy ditch, watching the encounter. The General did not like small boys, but he felt that he could not pass by a
small boy in such deep distress without some offer of assistance.