More William by Richmal Crompton Read Free Book Online Page A

pale.
    ‘Good Lord – my silver cricket cup,’ he gasped, racing upstairs.
    The landing window had been too small, and Mr Blank too big, though William did his best.
    There came to the astounded listeners the sound of a fierce scuffle, then Robert descended, his hair rumpled and his tie awry, holding William by the arm. William looked pale and apprehensive.
‘He was there,’ panted Robert, ‘just getting out of the window. He chucked the things out of his pockets and got away. I couldn’t stop him. And – and William was
there—’
    William’s face assumed the expression of one who is prepared for the worst.
    ‘The plucky little chap! Struggling with him! Trying to pull him back from the window! All by himself!’
    ‘I wasn’t ,’ cried William excitedly. ‘I was helping him. He’s my friend. I—’
    But they heard not a word. They crowded round him, praised him, shook hands with him, asked if he was hurt. Mrs de Vere Carter kept up one perpetual scream of delight and congratulation.
    ‘The dear boy! The little pet ! How brave ! What courage ! What an example to us all! And the horrid, wretched man! Posing as a hero . Wangling
himself into the sweet child’s confidence. Are you hurt, my precious? Did the nasty man hurt you? You darling boy!’
    When the babel had somewhat subsided, Mr Brown came forward and laid a hand on William’s shoulder.
    ‘I’m very pleased with you, my boy,’ he said. ‘You can buy anything you like tomorrow up to five shillings.’
    William’s bewildered countenance cleared.
    ‘Thank you, Father,’ he said meekly.

 
    CHAPTER 4
THE KNIGHT AT ARMS
    ‘A knight,’ said Miss Drew, who was struggling to inspire her class with enthusiasm for Tennyson’s ‘Idylls of the
King’, ‘a knight was a person who spent his time going round succouring the oppressed.’
    ‘Suckin’ wot?’ said William, bewildered.
    ‘Succour means to help. He spent his time helping anyone who was in trouble.’
    ‘How much did he get for it?’ asked William.
    ‘Nothing, of course,’ said Miss Drew, appalled by the base commercialism of the twentieth century. ‘He helped the poor because he loved them, William. He had a lot of
adventures and fighting and he helped beautiful, persecuted damsels.’
    William’s respect for the knight rose.
    ‘Of course,’ said Miss Drew hastily, ‘they needn’t necessarily be beautiful, but, in most of the stories we have, they were beautiful.’
    There followed some stories of fighting and adventure and the rescuing of beautiful damsels. The idea of the thing began to take hold of William’s imagination.
    ‘I say,’ he said to his chum Ginger after school, ‘that knight thing sounds all right. Suckin’ – I mean helpin’ people an’ fightin’ an’ all
that. I wun’t mind doin’ it an’ you could be my squire.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Ginger slowly, ‘I’d thought of doin’ it, but I’d thought of you bein’ the squire.’
    ‘Well,’ said William after a pause, ‘let’s be squires in turn. You first,’ he added hastily.
    ‘Wot’ll you give me if I’m first?’ said Ginger, displaying again the base commercialism of the age.
    William considered.
    ‘I’ll give you first drink out of a bottle of ginger ale wot I’m goin’ to get with my next money. It’ll be three weeks off ’cause they’re takin’
the next two weeks to pay for an ole window wot my ball slipped into by mistake.’
    He spoke with the bitterness that always characterised his statements of the injustice of the grown-up world.
    ‘All right,’ said Ginger.
    ‘I won’t forget about the drink of ginger ale.’
    ‘No, you won’t,’ said Ginger simply. ‘I’ll remind you all right. Well, let’s set off.’
    ‘’Course,’ said William, ‘it would be nicer with armour an’ horses an’ trumpets, but I ’spect folks ’ud think anyone a bit soft wot went
about in the streets in armour now, ’cause these times is different. She said so. Anyway, she said