William the Fourth by Richmal Crompton Page A

said Ginger, ‘that’s all right, but what we goin’ to do with her?’
    William glanced disapprovingly at the maiden, who had turned the packing-case upside down and was sitting in it.
    ‘Well, what we goin’ to do?’ said Ginger. ‘It’s not much fun so far.’
    ‘Well, we just gotter wait till her people send the money.’
    ‘Well, how they goin’ to know we got her, and where she is, an’ how much we want?’
    William considered. This aspect of the matter had not struck him.
    ‘Well,’ he said at last. ‘I s’pose you’d better go an’ tell them.’
    ‘You can,’ said Ginger.
    ‘You’d better go,’ said William, ‘ ’cause I’m chief.’
    ‘Well, if you’re chief,’ said Ginger, ‘you oughter go.’
    The kidnapped one emitted a shrill scream.
    ‘I’m a train,’ she said. ‘Sh! Sh! Sh!’
    ‘She’s not actin’ right,’ said William severely; ‘she oughter be faintin’ or somethin’.’
    ‘How much do we want for her?’
    ‘Sixty thousand crowns,’ said William.
    ‘All right,’ said Ginger. ‘I’ll stay and see she don’t get away, an’ you go an’ tell her people, an’ don’t tell anyone but her father and
mother, or they’ll go gettin’ the money themselves.’
    William hung up his mask behind the door and turned to Ginger, assuming the scowl and attitude of Rudolph of the Red Hand.
    ‘All right,’ he said, ‘I’ll go into the jaws of death, and you treat her with all courtesy till even.’
    ‘Who’s goin’ to curtsey?’ said Ginger indignantly.
    ‘You don’t understand book talk,’ said William scornfully.
    He bowed low to the maiden, who was still playing at trains.
    ‘Rudolph of the Red Hand,’ he said slowly, with a sinister smile.
    The effect was disappointing. She blew him a kiss.
    ‘Darlin’ Rudolph,’ she said.
    William stalked majestically across the fields towards the Grange, with one hand inside his coat, in the attitude of Napoleon on the deck of the Belleropbon.
    He went slowly up the drive and up the broad stone steps. Then he rang the bell. He rang it with the mighty force with which Rudolph of the Red Hand would have rung it. It pealed frantically in
distant regions. An indignant footman opened the door.
    ‘I wish to speak to the master of the house on a life or death matter,’ said William importantly
    He had thought out that phrase on the way up.
    The footman looked him up and down. He looked him up and down as if he didn’t like him.
    ‘Ho! do you!’ he said. ‘And hare you aware as you’ve nearly broke our front-door bell?’
    The echoes of the bell were just beginning to die away.
    Rudolph of the Red Hand folded his arms and emitted a short, sharp laugh.
    ‘His Lordship,’ said the footman, preparing to close the door, ‘is hout.’
    ‘His wife would do, then,’ said Rudolph. ‘Jus’ tell her it’s a life an’ death matter.’
    ‘Her Ladyship,’ said the footman, ‘is hengaged, and hany more of your practical jokes ’ere, my lad, and you’ll hear of it.’ He shut the door in
William’s face.
    William wandered round the house and looked in several of the windows; he had a lively encounter with a gardener, and finally, on peeping into the kitchen regions with a scornful laugh, was
chased off the premises by the infuriated footman. Saddened, but not defeated, he returned across the fields to the barn and flung open the door. Ginger, panting and perspiring, was dragging the
Lady Barbara in the packing-case round and round the barn by a piece of rope.
    He turned a frowning face to William. A life of crime was proving less exciting than he had expected.
    ‘Well, where’s the money?’ he said, wiping his brow. ‘She’s jus’ about wore me out. She won’t let me stop drag-gin’ this thing about. An’
she keeps worrin’, sayin’ you promised her a swing.’
    ‘He did !’ said the kidnapped one shrilly
    ‘Well, where’s the money?’ repeated Ginger. ‘I’ve jus’ about had enough of