The Borrowers Grown Up

by Jayne1955

'When I grow up, I think I'll marry Spiller." Arrietty thinks that would be a good idea. Pod seems noncommittal, and Homily thinks Spiller would be all right if Arrietty tied him down a bit. What does Spiller think? Some days he thinks it's a good idea, and some days he doesn't. How long will it take for him to make up his mind, and will Arrietty change hers?

2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The History of Spiller

When he left Vine Cottage he could hear the motor car pulling away. Spiller made a bold decision. He got the handkerchief and took it back to Homily who fell at once to cutting it up. Then he headed back out. He really didn't fear Mr. Pott anymore than he did Miss Menzies, so this time when he went to the kitchen door he stepped inside. Mr. Pott was sitting at the table with his wooden leg extended out. All of that walking about with the young couple and the children must have tired him. Miss Menzies was washing up the tea things at the sink. Spiller took a deep breath, and in as loud as shout as he had made since he told Pod to cut Mild Eye's fishing line, said, "EXCUSE ME!"

Miss Menzies jumped, dropping a dish into the sink, and Mr. Pott's head snapped round. "Land sakes!" he cried. "Look here, Margaret. It's another one, as bold as brass!"

"Spiller? Oh, my word! It's Spiller, isn't it?" Miss Menzies said, looking as if she were about to faint.

"Yes'm, it's me. Might I have a word with you?" He stood just inside the door, ready to jump down and run if he'd misjudged them. It would be tricky but he couldn't see Miss Menzies making good time in her skirt, or Pott on his wooden leg, either. He glanced toward the sink. "Is the dish all right? Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine. It didn't break." She put down the dishtowel, and turned all the way around to face him. "Whatever are you doing here, Spiller? Arrietty said you hated being seen, and while I thought I saw a glimpse of you several times, I never saw you clearly." She looked carefully then at his dark hair, dark eyes, and the teasing v-shape of his mouth that Arrietty had described so clearly. "What's become of them, Spiller? Do you know? We've been so worried."

Spiller leaned on the doorframe and told them about how the family had been kidnapped by humans who wanted to put them on display, how they'd been taken over the river and held prisoner in an attic all winter, how they had escaped out the window when spring had come and returned to Little Fordham. He didn't go into the balloon. He hardly thought it necessary, although Arrietty had been proud of it and wanted Miss Menzies to know.

Pott slammed his hand on the table. "Knew whoever it was had come in the back way. No way them devils could have gotten through the house."

Miss Menzies' eyes were filled with tears. "Thank goodness they made it back. I never heard the like of this! But are they all right now? No one is hurt?"

"No ma'am, not hurt. But Pod, he's done with humans," Spiller said honestly. "He plans to move on as soon as he finds a new place to live. Made Arrietty promise never to talk to human beings again. Don't trust any humans anymore. He's afraid that other lot, finding them gone, will just try to come back and steal them again. He'll never be easy in Vine Cottage any more. Don't know if that's right or wrong, but he's determined. Arrietty did promise but she cried like a tot when she had to do it. So I said I'd come and tell you what happened. That made her feel better, that and I told her we could come back and visit the village of an evening now and then. I can bring her down in me boat."

Miss Menzies' shoulders drooped. "I can't blame Pod. What they must have gone through. I'd hate human beings, too, if I were him."

"Oh, he don't hate you," Spiller assured her, stepping a bit further into the room. "No hate. Just doesn't think any good comes from trying to live too close with strange humans knowing where you're at. Them others are bound to think they came back to the cottage once they figure out they got away. Anyway, now you know. I wish Arrietty could have told you all this. She would have you know, if she hadn't promised."

Mr. Pott nodded. "A promise is a promise, especially to yer dad. Now me dad told me once…"

"Oh, Abel, I'd love to hear all about him, but I'm sure Spiller needs to get back" Miss Menzies interrupted. "They're probably worried sick that we have him in a shrimping net, just like those others." She looked at Spiller. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

He nodded. "I wouldn't say no to a couple of those round headed pins. Homily needs 'em. She grinds down the points you see and uses 'em for knitting needles. A real needle would help, too, if you got a spare small one. She wants to make some new clothes for the new place. A needle and some thread…got any white?"

"Oh, yes, yes, I do!" Miss Menzies said. "You mean quilting pins. I have some here actually. After I got done making those quilts for Vine Cottage I made another one just for fun and then was doing some mending for Abel." She left the room for a moment, and Mr. Pott and Spiller just stared at each other.

"She's a good woman," Abel Pott said finally, leaning forward. "She'd never have hurt you lot."

"I know," said Spiller. "She took care of them best she could. Guess she's taking care of you the same, as best as she can." His mouth turned back up at the corners then, and Mr. Pott laughed.

"You're a cheeky little devil, but you're right. Just been sad over your lot, that's what's been hard. Sick and sad, and I never thought she'd get over it or I'd ever hear the end of it. You kept your promise to Arrietty. Will you keep one to me?"

"If I can, "Spiller said uncertainly.

"You come back to visit, you bring Arrietty around, see? That will please them both. She might've promised not to speak to Margaret, but that doesn't mean she can't hear!"

Spiller thought about this, and grinned. "See your point. I do. It's a deal, then."

Miss Menzies came back into the room with a basket full of sewing supplies. She picked out a spool of white thread, the shortest needle she could find, and she stuck four pins of just the right sort carefully in under the edge of the thread. Setting the basket aside on the floor next to the wall, she spread out a scrap of calico, and set the spool in the center. Carefully bringing up the edges, she made a bundle, which she carefully slid onto one of the wooden skewers she used to spread glue into tight spots when she was doing woodworking.

Spiller watched her with interest, his eyes drawn to the sewing basket. She had a lovely thimble with a dotted design on the top and a leaf design around the edge. "That's pretty," he said. "Me mum had a favorite thimble she used to drink out of. It had spots like that on the top, but it had roses around the bottom."

When Miss Menzies was done the package looked like a hobo's bag. "Can you carry this, Spiller, without hurting yourself?"

"Think so," he said, eying it. She set it down slowly and carefully on the floor about a foot away from him and backed away. She didn't want to frighten him. When he picked it up and hefted it over his shoulder it was heavy but manageable. He didn't have that far to go, after all. "Thanks," he said.

"Thank you, Spiller," she answered. "I want you to have this as well." She held out something colorful, tightly rolled up and tied on both ends with a scrap of yarn. "It's the extra quilt I made. I want you to have it. I know how hard this must have been for you and I appreciate it more than I can say. Give all my love to Arrietty and tell her I miss her. I know how much she trusts you so I trust you, too. I trust you to take care of her."

'I try, but she don't always make it easy," he said with a wink. "Thanks again." He tucked it under his arm and told them goodbye.

Miss Menzie's stood in the doorway and watched him go. She looked back at Mr. Pott with a sigh. "How nice he is, as nice as Arrietty said he was. He reminds me of dear Aubrey."

"Nice of you, my dear, to give him that quilt."

She shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. "I was going to make a whole lot of things, sort of a hope chest. I thought perhaps when Arrietty got a little older she and Spiller would choose one of the other houses. I know that's what Arrietty was hoping for. You could tell how much Spiller meant to her by the way she talked about him. No use now. They're all going. It's such a shame. Homily would have been so happy in Vine Cottage and Arrietty and Spiller could have set up housekeeping nearby and we'd all have been happy together."

"At least now we know what happened," Abel Pott said. "That's something, and he did promise to come back and see us. Maybe things will settle down eventually and they can come back to live. The fence should hold off most anything, but you never know."

"No," said Miss Menzies. "You never do." Then she brightened. "Abel, if they're afraid of the ones that took them before coming back I think I know how to help but we'll have to work fast."

"Ain't good at working fast," he said, shaking his head.

"What if part of it is something that's already mostly done and the rest is something you've done before?"

He eyed her suspiciously. "What have you got in mind, Margaret?"

Homily was delighted with the sewing supplies and the calico it came in was a treasure. They all admired Spiller's new quilt. Homily said the pattern was called bricks and cobblestones. "What a job she must have had, that Miss Menzies, to do this with those big hands of hers. At least now, though, Spiller has one of his own." She glanced over at Arrietty, who was ladling soup into bowls, and smiled slyly. Arrietty didn't meet her glance. She kept her head down and kept spooning the soup.

As they sat down to dinner, they made Spiller tell them the whole story of his visit to Mr. Pott's cottage three times before they were satisfied with it.

"I figured they put up the fence because of what happened," said Pod. "Stood to reason that was the only way someone could have gotten in. You didn't tell them where we were going did you?"

"No," said Spiller firmly. "You still want to go check out the mill tomorrow? Now that Homily and Arrietty have something to keep them busy they won't spend the day fretting over us. Might be a good day to do it."

"I think so," Pod answered.

"Would you mind being away overnight? I want to get some flour and cornmeal while we're there, and there's a family a little bit further down river that could probably use some, too. I haven't been making the rounds like I usually do. They could put us up for the night, and we could come home next day."

"S'pose we could," said Pod slowly. "We do keep you off your normal routine at times. I think Arrietty and her mother could do without us for one night."

So that is what they did. They went to bed early so as to get an early start in the morning, and Spiller found his quilt to be just as comfortable as Arrietty's. The only difference was that he planned on taking his with him when they left Little Fordham. Homily made him and Pod a breakfast of tea and toast, and she and Arrietty wished their men a fond farewell. Spiller and Pod went to the fence, slipped through and headed down the river in Spiller's knife box boat. Spiller was hoping to find some more food along the way. The bread had been fine when he had brought it to the cottage, but it was only fit for toast at that point.

"What ever happened to your soap box boat?" Pod asked.

Spiller gave him a long look. He never had gotten used to answering questions. He liked to keep his private business private, but finally he decided he was being silly. "She's well hid further down river. When I'm planning on a lot of cargo this one is better. For traveling light the soap box is better."

"Won't the miller see us coming up on the place?" Pod asked, worried.

"No," Spiller said, steering carefully with the butter knife he used for an oar. "Goes away in the spring to see his children and grandchildren. Come winter, does his repairs on the mill. In the fall, he's running day and night keeping up with the harvest. In the spring shuts down for a couple of weeks as soon as the weather's nice and does his visiting. No one should be there at all. Be locked up tight as a drum it will be. Have to go underneath this time. This boat just fits. There's other ways, but right now this is easiest when the mill is closed."

Pod shuddered as they went under the great wheel, imaging what a disaster it would be if it were turning. But Spiller was right. They just fit under and were able to pull up and tie up without much trouble.

The mill was everything Pod had hoped it would be. One old human and a regular routine appealed to him. He wasn't as adverse to the outdoors a Homily was, but he'd been brought up as a house borrower, and he still felt the most comfortable indoors.

Spiller had stayed at the mill on and off over the years and gave Pod a pretty fair tour. As they walked around, they picked up things, scraps of wood, wire, and string, among them. It reminded Pod a bit of the gamekeeper's cottage when it has been emptied of humans. Spiller was able to point out the different types of machinery that the mill used to make the flour and corn meal, and even had figured out pretty much how the machinery worked and how the materials traveled throughout the mill by way of lifts, pulleys and belts, which he thought would interest Pod. He knew how handy Pod was and admired him for it.

Spiller also showed Pod some of the older equipment that had been retired. The room where that was stored had a loose board and led to some good sized spaces out of sight beneath the floor. That is where they took the borrowings and began laying out how the new home would be.

Spiller had made a bedroom/storage room for himself in one section next to the wall and the large space he'd claimed was filled with odds and ends including a pile of burlap sacks just borrower size.

"A friend of mine borrowed the big bag," Spiller commented, as he gathered up an armful, and his wife cut it up into smaller ones for me. I have bags stashed in several of my places. Have 'em when I need them. We can put up shelves and then separate the storage area from where I sleep. Homily would like it better if I wasn't sleeping in the storeroom when she's here. Don't mind knocking the space into two rooms. Mine doesn't have to be too big."

There were several other sections that made decent sized rooms. Pod could see them easily leaving Spiller a small space for when he needed it and still having a decent bedroom for him and Homily with another for Arrietty plus a fairly nice sized combination dining and living room. It would be like old times. They would be under the floor again where they belonged.

"Here in the hall after the storeroom area and my space," Spiller said, pointing when they began to rough things out, "you're up against a fireplace. If we can find something to use for a stove, that would be the best place for a kitchen. We can pick a hole open to put a pipe in and send your smoke up the old man's chimney."

Pod walked over and laid his hand on the fireplace casing. "Could do, but what could we use for a stove?"

"We'll have to think about it. I'll have to look around," Spiller admitted. Pod and Spiller both appreciated the construction techniques that were used on the mill.

"Built in 1830," said Spiller, "or so he says," he being the old miller. "I've heard him tell. Proud of the place he is. Made of good hemlock, oak, pine and hickory and lots of good old fashioned square iron nails made in forges by them that knew what they was doing." Spiller glanced around. "Used to be a gathering place for the townsfolk when every farmer grew his own grain. Women used to use the second floor for their weaving looms. Things is different now. Not as good for the human beings to my mind. It's made a lot of them stupid. Not self sufficient anymore, not by a long shot, but better for our kind. Quieter here with just the few carters."

Pod smiled. "Homily will be happier for that, I'm sure."

Spiller stared at Pod, his black eyes almost boring into him. "What about Arrietty, though? She likes outdoors. You told her she could come back to Little Fordham of an evening, that she'd have outdoors instead of just in. Just talk that?"

Pod looked at Spiller uncertainly. "Well, yes we could do but I think once she gets settled in she'll be all right and get used to it, like. Be like it used to be when we was under the floor at Firbank Hall."

Spiller shook his head, the unfairness of it all washing over him and making him impulsive. "She's not that sort, Pod. She's the type that needs air and sun. Now that she's had it you can't take it away. Chain her up and she'll just be another Eggletina. Nice girl, Eggletina. I like her. But she's not had a happy day since they went into the groundskeeper's cottage. It's like that cockroach in a tea strainer you told Arrietty about…the one Hendreary's boy had. Eggletina's just as trapped as that cockroach, and it's sapped the life out of her." He shook his head. "Don't do that to Arrietty. You do and I'll put an end to it."

Pod frowned. "Is that a threat, from you, Spiller my boy?"

"It's a promise," Spiller said, standing tall and throwing caution to the winds. "All that matters to me is she's happy. If she were happy here I'd leave her be, but if I ever think she's not, I'll do me best to make her happy someplace else and you know exactly what I mean. You might not like the sort of life I lead, but she'd like it I think, at least for awhile."

"She's too young to think of leaving us and running off into the wild," Pod exclaimed, running his hat pin along the crack in the floor.

"Aye, she's young. Agree with you there. Always have. Got a bit more growing up to do. Takes longer to mature under a floor than it does when you're brought up to live by your wits. That's right. But I'm willing to wait and see, Pod. I'm willing to wait and hope."

"Hoping isn't getting," Pod pointed out.

"We'll see," Spiller said, thinking about everything that had happened since Mabel and Sidney had come along and since Arrietty's family had escaped their clutches. When they had done all the work they could, He and Pod filled several borrowing bags with flour and several with cornmeal and speculated on how good cornbread or corn mush would taste cooked on the little iron stove back at Vine Cottage. Spiller had a nice lump of butter cooling by the river and had left some tea and sugar at the cottage amongst his other clutter and they had perfect faith in Homily and Arrietty's ability to make something of it

In the old man's kitchen they'd found a forgotten digestive biscuit that made a fair dinner, washed down with water. When it was dark, they set off down river once more. "Daubery and his wife Sateen have five daughters," Spiller said. "They'll make something good from this flour."

"Five!" Pod exclaimed.

"Daughters," Spiller said grimly, "He's disappointed 'bout that. Hemiola is about sixteen. Semplice and Sennet are twins about thirteen. Elegancy is ten and Actina is seven. He's been trying to have a son to go borrowing with, but I don't think he's ever going to. Sateen got very sick after Actina was born. Didn't think she'd make it there for awhile. Personally I think he should just be happy everyone is healthy now."

"I agree, "Pod said, nodding firmly. "Homily and I talked about it once while we were living at the big house. We agreed to teach Arrietty to borrow. If I'd had a boy, I would have taken him, but since we didn't have no boy, I took Arrietty. Didn't work out well, but I tried."

Spiller pulled up in a small hollow, where the river had washed out under part of a tree root. He helped Pod out, and handed out two bags of cornmeal which Pod hoisted onto his back. When he reached for the flour, Spiller shook his head. "I got it." He was tired, but Pod was more tired and Spiller knew it.

Pod managed to get his bags one over each shoulder and they headed up the bank. There was a house there, a nice house, and following Spiller Pod slipped around to the side. A piece of board that had patched up a hole was not nailed down, and setting down the cornmeal bags, Spiller was able to swing it much the way they had done at the gamekeeper's cottage before they saw the ferret. Pod staggered in, set down the bags, and Spiller handed in the other two. Then he came in himself and lowered the board. Picking up the bags again he started down a dusty passage. Pod could see a faint light at the end.

As they trudged down the hall, they heard someone say, "What's that noise?" and then a small voice chirping, "It's Spiller! It must be Spiller!"

A girl appeared in the passage, clapping her hands with delight. "It is! It's Spiller! And someone else, too!"

"Hallo, Tina," said Spiller, dropping a bag to pat her on the head. "You miss me?"

"Always miss you," she said, jumping up and grabbing his arm. Spiller swung her onto his hip. "What did you bring and who's that?"

Spiller laughed. "Cornmeal and flour, and me friend, Pod. Ask your mum if she's got a spot of tea for us. It was a beautiful day but the night is nippy."

He set down the child who hurried back to her door. Standing in it was a small man, a small woman who turned and hurried out of sight, and another girl, bigger than the first one. The man came out and took one of the bags from Spiller. "Good to see you, my boy," he said.

They went into a hole in the wall and Pod followed. It was a bright, cheerful room with a rug made out of braided yarn, and a sofa made from a block of wood. It was padded with some kind of stuffing and tacked all around with brass tacks. There was the usual chest of drawers made of matchbooks that could be found in nearly any house borrower's home. There was an enormous dining table made from a pair of child's blocks, with a piece of wood fastened to the top of them surrounded by eight champagne cork stools.

The father shouted at the twin girls to come and take the bags to the kitchen and so they did, even though they could only carry one at a time. "Girls," he said, "useless girls." He looked Pod up and down and held out his hand. "I'm Daubery. Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Spiller's is a friend of ours. He's almost like one of the family he is. Wish he still was! As he might have told you, I'm short of sons."

"Pod Clock at your service," Pod said, shaking the hand, and looking him up and down just as closely. Daubery was a big plump man, with a neatly trimmed mustache and beard dressed in a roomy pair of black trousers and a white shirt. "I only have one daughter meself. My Arrietty is back with her mother in Little Fordham," Pod told him

"Oh, Little Fordham!" cried Actina. "I wish I could see it someday."

"Someday, perhaps," Spiller said, sitting down on the sofa, but her father shook his head.

"You girls belong at home until you get homes of your own."

The thin, older woman came in then, with hot tea for Pod and Spiller, and a tall thin girl who looked almost exactly like her brought some bowls of warmed up stew, and cakes with jelly. The mother looked worn and pale, except for dark circles under her eyes, and the girl was pale herself with long, straight hair of a medium brown, which was a trait she shared with all of her sisters. They all had straight, shining hair and it was clear that they never spend any time out of doors.

They gave Pod their nicest silver thimble to use as a cup, a pretty one with a vine design going around it. Spiller smiled, and then sighed. He was glad they were being considerate to Pod, but drinking cups made out of thimbles would forever remind him of his mother,

"Thank you, my dear," said Pod. The girl blushed and backed away to sit at the table with her parents and sisters and eat cake. Pod stayed on the couch with Spiller, eating off a small table made from a cedar trinket box that sat in front of the sofa.

"Hemiola makes good cake," Spiller remarked, and set the serving girl to glowing.

When they were done eating Daubery and Spiller settled accounts. In return for the flour and cornmeal, Daubery gave Spiller a big bag of sugar and a big bag of rice, and smaller bags of pepper and salt.

"You can take these things," Spiller told Pod when the deal was done. "Homily and Arrietty can cook with them and I can come and eat with you sometimes."

Then the girls came and sat on the carpet and they all listened to Pod and Spiller tell the story of how Pod's family had been living at Little Fordham, how they had been kidnapped, had escaped, and about the proposed move to the mill. Even the thin mother propped herself on a cork and listened, when she wasn't taking the supper things back out to the kitchen.

When they got to the part about the balloon everyone was on the edge of their seats. "Good thing for us that Arrietty learned to read," said Pod. "Or we'd be in that cage house now. That article in the paper about ballooning saved our lives."

"Yes, well, I can see that," Daubery acknowledged grudgingly, "but for the most part I don't hold with educating borrowers. Makes them too human and girls certainly don't need it."

"Wish I could've seen that balloon, though," said Spiller. "Was never so glad to see anything as I was to see Arrietty coming down that fence. When Pod's lot disappeared it took the wind out of my sails for sure. I missed her."

"She missed you, too," Pod assured him. "She talked about you all the time. We were all glad to see you when we got back to Little Fordham but I really think that mill is the place for us. Plenty water, plenty grain, and if the old man is short sighted so much the better. It'll do me good to be back under a floor. This," said Pod, waving his hand expansively, "is the proper sort of life for a borrower in the end."

"Yes, you'll do better at the mill than in the out of doors," Daubery said. "No good ever comes of being too outdoorsy. I keep telling Spiller that. It's all well and good when you're young but it'll catch up with him eventually. He'll settle down sooner or later in a good house like a proper borrower should."

"We'd miss the things he brings us," said the oldest girl a bit sulkily. "We'd miss you, Spiller."

"Not ready to retire yet," Spiller said, "except for the night." He glanced at his host. "Think we could have a bed? Have to be off early, but can't go back now. We've been busy all day."

"The back bedroom is yours anytime you want it, lad," Daubery said. "You know that, and your guest is welcome. Feel free, Pod, to wash up at the tap in the kitchen if you wish."

Pod did wish, and Sateen took him in to show him where it was while Spiller ran down to check on his boat and get Pod's spare clothing and his quilt. "Spiller isn't one for a wash up," she said amused, hearing him go down the hallway. She pulled a plug from a water pipe to pour Pod a bowl of water and he felt such a wave of homesickness he sighed.

"We used to live in a house like this, under the floor. But we was seen and we had to go. As for Spiller, well, it's part of his cover not to wash," answered Pod, accepting the scraps of material she gave him to use as a washcloth and towel when he washed his face and hands. "Those outdoor borrowers make themselves look like the outdoors. Can't even see Spiller against the ground unless he wants you to." He breathed in and said in delight, "Sandalwood soap!"

"Spiller found it in a drain, so he says. I was glad to get it," Sateen told him. "Daubery has a hard time getting any farther up than the kitchens here."

"Must be the drain we used when we left from visiting my brother-in-law and his wife," said Pod. "They live on the other side of Holmcraft. They have three boys and a girl and live in a groundskeeper's cottage. Eggletina, the girl, she's the oldest. Halberd, the oldest boy is next and a bit older than Spiller, I think, and Grego is about your Hemiola's age. The youngest boy is Timmis. He'd be about eight or nine now. Thank you," said Pod, holding out the wet towel.

"Nice to know we're not the only big family left," said Sateen, taking back the towel.

"My Arrietty should meet your girls some day," Pod said. "She's always going on about how we're dying out. It bothers her that she doesn't know too many others. It was different when we lived at Firbank Hall when I was a boy. There was borrowers from the stables to the rain pipe, from the kitchen to the mantelpiece. We used to have parties and the cousins all knew each other. Not like that now. She gets lonely. It was a relief when we met Spiller. He's been a great help to us and Arrietty enjoys being with him. He taught her to fish, and took her riding on the trains in the town, and he helped her plant her garden. I don't know what we'd do without him."

"Everyone loves Spiller," Sateen said tightly.

They heard a slight noise in the hallway. "That'll be him now. Follow the door off the great room. Spiller's in the last room at the end. You shouldn't need a dip. Our fireplace lights our great room and there's a light above that hallway that they burn all night that shines through the cracks in the floor. We're below the hallway that leads from the maid's room to the kitchen. If the lady of the house needs anything at night, they have to be able to get up and go. They don't want to be stumbling around. The chamber pot is behind the door. I'll have breakfast ready at dawn so you can get an early start before there are too many human beings on the river banks."

"I'm much obliged," Pod told her. When he followed her directions, he found Spiller rolled up in his quilt on a rug made from an old potholder.

"Take the bed," Spiller said, jerking his head. It was a cardboard box lid lined with a mattress made from a linen handkerchief sewn together and stuffed with what felt like fleece. The blanket was made from piece of knitted scarf.

"Nice bed," said Pod.

"I lived here for awhile when I was first on the river," Spiller said. "They've always been nice to me. Just can't stay too long. I get restless and start feeling trapped."

In more ways than one, I'd wager, Pod said to himself, before he dropped off to sleep.

After Pod and Spiller left Vine Cottage, Arrietty held the cardigan flat while her mother cut out the sections she wanted to turn into blankets.

"If I don't make the edging too wide," Homily mused, "I should be able to do three easy using this handkerchief. I want to get them done before we move to the mill so they're ready to use. I'm not sure how long it will take us to set up the rooms there. If we unravel the rest of it and make skeins we can take them with us and I can do the knitting later."

"This would make a hundred skeins!" Arrietty said sharply. "We can't take this whole thing with. There wouldn't be room in the boat for us!"

"Well, we can leave some here," Homily said. "Spiller can bring it as we need it. He did say he was coming back now and then, and I don't blame him. Tomorrow is the first and then the humans will start coming this weekend and there will be plenty of borrowings."

"I want to come back, too, sometimes," Arrietty said. "I want to come back with Spiller to visit."

"I know you do, dear, but once we get settled in the mill there won't be any need. Spiller can handle borrowing in the out of doors and your father will handle it indoors. You won't need to borrow anymore."

"But I want to," exclaimed Arrietty. "I don't want to spend my life indoors knitting. I like indoors and outdoors! I like doing things with Spiller. I still think it would be fun to be married to him someday."

"That's a foolish notion," Homily said sharply, tossing the edge of the handkerchief to Arrietty. "For one thing, you're too young to make that kind of decision. Marriage isn't about fun. It's a commitment. Hold this end down, will you?"

Homily got a better hold, and then went on."I know you like him and he likes you, but another thing is he's just not our sort, Arrietty. I like him. I wish I didn't, but he is likeable, and useful, too, but he's still not our sort."

"That's not fair, Mother," Arrietty said sulkily. "You didn't like it when Aunt Lupy looked down on you, and here you are looking down on Spiller after all he's done for us."

Homily paused right in the middle of cutting a strip of handkerchief. "Are you saying I'm like Lupy? You wicked girl! The things you've gotten into your head since we left Firbank! Those outdoor borrowers aren't the same as house borrowers, whether it's a borrower from under a kitchen or an Overmantle. I'm trying to get past it, Arrietty, I am, but I want better for you."

"There isn't anything better, Mother. I more than like him. I think I could love him, given some time. I really do." Arrietty didn't know why this was such a difficult concept for her mother to grasp. Her father was being so much more practical about it.

"You don't know what love is. Who does at sixteen?" Homily exclaimed.

"I'm nearly seventeen, and you got married at eighteen. I think you're being very unfair. Spiller is wonderful and we'd be wonderful together. You'll see." Arrietty looked down at the strips of handkerchief. "Shall I go and thread the needle?"

"Yes, you'd better," said Homily, dropping the subject gratefully.

They had one blanket edged on two sides before they got too stiff from sitting. A shadow passed by the window, and Homily cried, "What's that?"

Arrietty walked over and looked out. "Miss Menzies just went past. I think she and Mr. Pott are doing a final check before the village opens for visitors."

Homily glanced out the window, too. Miss Menzies was nowhere in sight but there was something in the High Street, something big. "Whatever is that?" Homily wondered.

"A paper bag," said Arrietty. "Shall I go see what's in it?"

"Oh, no," Homily exclaimed. "We don't know where they are. We don't want to be seen again."

Arrietty looked carefully. "If it's not too heavy I could quickly bring it in. If she's dropped it she probably won't know where. It might be something useful." She was beginning to think it was something Miss Menzies had dropped deliberately but she didn't want to tell her mother that.

"Well," Homily vacillated, "be quick about it." She watched as Arrietty ran through the remnants of the garden and got hold of the side of the bag. It toppled onto its side quickly causing Homily to gasp, but Arrietty was obviously not hurt by it and was able to drag it to the back door where with a little pushing and shoving, they got the opening of the bag inside. Arrietty stepped into the bag and looked around.

"Looks like half a lunch," she said. "I see a bunch of grapes with seven left, half a ham sandwich wrapped up, and a chocolate biscuit. Here, take the grapes. Then we can bring in the biscuit and it will be easier to get to the sandwich." When they had all the food in the house and were pushing the bag, it tore. While they managed to save a large piece of the paper, the wind caught the rest, taking it down the street. "Sorry that got away," said Arrietty sadly. "We might have been able to use it for something but now it's just litter."

"Can't be helped" said Homily. "I think we should wash three of these grapes and have them now and save the rest for when your father and Spiller come back. There's just enough."

"Just enough," Arrietty agreed more certain than ever that Miss Menzies had left the food on purpose. She and her mother washed the grapes and cut theirs in quarters, and chopped off a nice slice of sandwich for each of them.

Another shadow passed the window, and Arrietty peeked out to see Mr. Pott carrying a lot of tools. He walked a fair distance down the path, and Arrietty could see Miss Menzies several streets over. She was so far away she looked borrower size.

"I do so wonder what they are up to," Arrietty mused. Homily shrugged.

After they ate they went back to their blanket making and had one done by suppertime. They had another slice of sandwich and broke off a quarter of the chocolate biscuit. Then they managed three sides of a second blanket before bedtime. When Arrietty went to bed, she tugged the quilt tightly around her, remembering the feel of Spiller's arm around her shoulder. Mother has to change her mind about him, Arrietty thought. She just must. Arrietty went to sleep happy.

In the morning they scraped out a bit of the butter from the sandwich and used it to make the last of the dry bread palatable when they toasted it. They wanted to save the fresh bread for when Pod and Spiller came back. Then they finished the second blanket, and bored with sewing, began to unravel some of the yarn and loop it into skeins.

Whatever Miss Menzies and Mr. Pott were doing across the yard, they were going at it great guns. Homily watched them for awhile, too, curious, but they could not tell what was going on.

Pod and Spiller had a heartier breakfast than Homily and Arrietty did. Daubery had borrowed a strip of bacon and a hen's egg from the kitchen, which Sateen and Hemiola cooked for everyone. They cut up the bacon into pieces and fried it, then scrambled the egg in the bacon grease with a bit of milk and pepper. There was plenty for all of them.

"Wonderful breakfast," Pod said with feeling. "There's a lot of good food in a hen's egg. We took a hardboiled egg with us when we left the groundskeeper's cottage and Spiller, Arrietty, Homily and I ate on it for a couple of days."

"I can only get them if I can get at the basket when they first bring them in," Daubery admitted. "After that they get put out of reach. You're still planning on leaving right away?"

"Just got to roll up my quilt and reload the boat," Spiller answered. "We need to get back to Little Fordham by late afternoon. Homily and Arrietty will be fretting if we don't. You sure two bags each of flour and cornmeal is enough for now? Got two more of each in the boat. Was going to give Homily and Arrietty some to work with until we get everything sorted out about the move, and maybe take some down river to Burgonet and Arista." He glanced at Pod. "You ain't met them yet. They're a young couple, just married, down at Went-le-Craye."

"Didn't know anyone else was around there," Pod exclaimed.

"They're around" said Daubery. "Spiller knows most of them, I'd wager. Got a good business he does. Has to make hay while the sun shines, though. He'll have to settle down eventually."

Spiller stood up at that. "Thanks for having us. See you again at some point."

"It was nice to see you again, Spiller," said Sateen. "Come back soon."

"Yes, don't stay away too long," Hemiola said, looking Spiller right in the eyes. She was trying hard to be a dutiful daughter, but it was hard. To her, Spiller was just someone she'd grown up with. He was like one of her family. Her father wanted her to see it differently, though, and she was making an effort, but it was difficult.

He shrugged at her. "Three weeks maybe, or a month." He and Pod packed up their meager gear, and after a last round of goodbyes, headed back to the boat. There was a lovely morning dawning. "Pott has a good day to get ready to open the village," Spiller said. "We'll have to be careful when we get back. He and that Miss Menzies should be gone in by the time we get there, but you never know."

As they pushed off Pod looked back at the hollow where they'd moored. "Nice family that."

"All right," Spiller said shortly. "Was very good to me when I was younger. Good to me, now, they are, but Daubery's too set in his ways. Gets on my nerves sometimes. Don't always like the way he treats Sateen and the girls. Wish he'd get the son he wants but I can't be it."

"Ah," said Pod, understanding completely.

When they got back to Little Fordham they unloaded their gear and headed up toward the village, keeping an eye open for straggling human beings. Homily and Arrietty had finished the third blanket and put together a couple of shawls from the blue yarn while the few first humans of the season had been looking at the village. They were waiting for their men anxiously.

"Well?" Homily asked.

"It'll suit us very well," Pod answered. "Spiller has a room set up in a perfect spot that he uses when he needs a place to stay indoors and there's plenty of space for us in the same area. I think you'll like it. It's under the floor just like we're used to."

"Can we see the river from there?" Arrietty demanded, remembering her grate under the floor at Firbank Hall.

"Not from there," Spiller said, "but aren't you and I going to be nipping back here of an evening to pick up whatever the humans leave lying around?"

She looked at him, her cheeks pink, and her eyes bright. "You meant that? You'll bring me back to visit?" She gave Homily a dark look. "Mother still isn't sure if it's the right thing to do."

"Whenever you like," said Spiller, turning away from her smile, which made him feel unsettled and plunking down in front of the fire. Homily's eyes opened wide and she turned them on Pod, who merely shrugged and handed her the bag of cornmeal. "We have other things in the boat," Spiller added. "I'll bring them up later. I don't want to leave them out there all night."

Homily began to bustle about, showing them the three blankets they'd completed as Arrietty was setting out grapes and ham sandwich for all.

"This really is nice, fine yarn," Spiller said fingering a blanket, causing Homily to grit her teeth to keep from mentioning the fact that his hands probably weren't clean. "My friend Arista would like this. I'd like to take a few skeins to her and her husband to trade for other supplies."

"Go ahead," Homily said. "We've got plenty. Sorry there's nothing hot," she added, looking over at the table "but we've got chocolate biscuit for dessert." She then said sadly how she really would miss the lovely little stove and couldn't they take it with them.

"I don't think so," Pod said kindly, sitting at the table. It's fastened in there pretty well, and anyway, if we do come back for a visit we'll need it then. We'll have to think of something else for you to use at the mill."

"Until we do," Spiller said suddenly, "cold food will have to do. Nothing wrong with cold food. Can't be having any fires that you can't control." He paused slightly, and then throwing caution to the winds, added, "That's how I lost me family."

"Your family?" Arrietty spun about from where she was helping Homily warm up the leftover soup from the night before. "Do you mean your mother?" He had mentioned his mother to her a few times and she was dying to know more.

"All of 'em," said Spiller grimly.

He had, he told them in halting sentences, grown up in a hunting lodge that belonged to an old couple with two sons. They came out every spring to fish and every fall to have shooting parties, and the family would all gather at Christmas. When they were in residence the borrowings came easier, although it was a bit nerve wracking to borrow and not be seen, but Spiller's father was an expert borrower. Occasionally the sons would bring their families out at other times, but often weeks could go buy with no human inhabitants, so Spiller's father learned to borrow from the out of doors and from the time Spiller could walk, he took Spiller out of doors, too.

"Started learning to fish when I was three. Dad started teaching me to use a bow at four. That was when Mum had my sister, Larkspur. Dad needed help so he said but think he just wanted me out of the house so Mum could have some peace and quiet," he told them. When I was six my sister Caledula was born. Started helping my dad skin game then. Had a little tunnel down by the river to do that. Was nine and learning how to handle a boat when Mum had Orlaya."

When Homily gasped, and cried, "Oh, my!" he smiled ruefully, the corners of his mouth turned up into the teasing smile they all knew so well.

"Mum liked flowers and named the girls after them. What can I say?" He paused for a moment, thinking. "When I was eleven Mum was having another baby. If it was a boy, she was going to name it Basil and if it were another girl, she was going to name it Angelonia. I think me Dad was hoping for another boy but he never told her that. He wasn't like some," Spiller said, giving Pod a meaningful look. "He said as long as it was healthy he would be fine with it whatever it was."

That's as it should be," Pod interjected, slapping his hand on the table. "You get what you get when it comes to that." He also had been saddened by the way Daubery treated his daughters.

Spiller nodded ruefully, and then frowned trying to remember. "Was spring. The whole human family was there. Dad wanted me to go out at dusk and bring back some vegetables. Was usually safe enough then when the humans were there for fishing parties. They got up early to go fishing so went to bed early. The radishes and scallions were especially good that year. Dad said it would be a treat for Mum to have some fresh food. He couldn't go. He was busy keeping the little ones quiet. It was hard for them to be quiet when the family was about. He used to tell them stories for hours. Left him there with the girls. Mum was trying to do some cooking even though she didn't feel well. She said her back'd been hurting her. Me and dad thought the baby was getting ready to come. He kept scolding her, telling to keep her skirts away from the fire."

Pod, Homily and Arrietty thought about this, a little boy going out to provide for his family, and understood better how resourceful he must have been even at such an early age.

"When I crept out could hear some of the human men in the kitchen. They'd sneaked down for some ale and a smoke. I could smell their pipes. I was glad to get outside. T'was one of the finest nights I'd ever seen. Looked at the stars and the moon and felt happier than I'd ever felt. Finally went back to the garden and began to look at the radish plants. I knew how to pick the best."

Spiller closed his eyes and they all waited with baited breath for the rest of the story. "When I had all I could carry I started back through the garden rows. As I got close to the house I thought I heard an odd noise, a popping noise, but didn't think much of it. When I got nearer though, it got louder. I seen and smelled the smoke then."

"Oh, no, Arrietty whispered, "oh, no, no."

Spiller looked at her, his black eyes catching the light from the cookstove. "I don't know if the fellows in the kitchen started it with their pipes or poking at the kitchen fire. They had been drinking pretty hard. Maybe one of the girls dropped a dip or maybe one of the other kids grabbed ahold of me dad and pulled him off balance. Mum could even have caught her skirt for real. She was as big as a house at that point. Anyway, the house was afire and I heard someone ringing the bell by the kitchen door. Servants came running. There was a lot of yelling and the smoke was fierce. I coughed and coughed. I had to back away, clear to the rear edge of the garden. The fire caused shadows that gathered all around the house. It sounded just like whenever a big beastie crawled through the undergrowth at Dad's hole in the woods by the river where he skinned the game. All I could see was smoke black enough to suffocate a body, and sullen yellow flames spreading up to the roof."

They all sat spellbound, horrified at the mental picture of a little black eyed boy hiding in a garden in the night watching his home burn.

"Had to get away from the heat and humans rushing about, so I went to Dad's camp. I knew that's where he would go if he could. I fell asleep in the tunnel smelling like a wood stove."

Spiller paused, sighed, and shook his head. "When I woke up I got some water. My throat hurt from the smoke. Then I crept back to the house to see what was left. Some of the humans were out on the front lawn talking to each other. I don't know how many got out and how many didn't."

He paused again, thinking. "I couldn't get into where our place used to be. I tried, but it was pretty much gone. I hung around for a few days, hoping Dad or Mum or one of the girls would turn up but never seen any of them. Finally gave up and lit out, just jumped in me dad's boat and headed down river. I found a family living near Holmcraft, the ones Pod and I went to see after we left the mill. Daubery and his wife, Sateen took me in for a few days but they had three daughters at the time that reminded me too much of the girls for me to be easy in my mind there. I liked them. Still do, but I wanted to be alone. So I set off along the river staying wherever I liked as long as I liked. Caught minnows, hunted game, and gave some to Sateen. She took care of me when I needed it. Lived like that a couple of years."

He perked up and smiled then. "I had just found that old stove and got settled into it when I ran across Hendreary and his family living in the badger's set. We got to be friends. By then I had a regular route and they used to ask me to pick up things for them, like tea and matches and other things they couldn't get for themselves. Then the foxes came."

He wrinkled his nose as if he could smell them. "I found them Hendrearys running away. They only just made it. They come to the gypsies camp hoping the foxes would still smell the human scent and wouldn't follow them any further. They wanted to see, too, if there was anything worth picking over at the campsite. I showed them my stove, offered them a bite to eat. They stayed two years. It was nice at first to have the boys to talk to. Halberd was a lot of fun and Timmis was a nice little boy. He made me wonder what it would have been like if I'd finally had a little brother, but it all got to be too much."

"Lupy certainly tends to have that effect on people," Homily said.

"Now, Homily, don't start that again!" Pod exclaimed.

Spiller grinned, and then shrugged. "I dunno. I started watching young Tom and then we talked. I checked out the gamekeeper's cottage, and finally got Lupy and Hendreary to move there. She was afraid of young Tom. T'was that pillowcase full of food and furniture that finally convinced them. In the end Lupy wanted a real home again so she'd have a place to use it. I helped them move, taking a bit at a time. They finally got settled in."

There was silence for a moment, and then Homily walked up behind Spiller and threw her arms around him in a huge hug that startled him and set his cheeks to blazing. "You poor dear boy," Homily said. "What you've been through! I've never heard the like of it!"

Pod gave her an odd look, which Arrietty understood. Homily was like that about Spiller. As a prospective son-in-law, she was skeptical, but when she looked at him as just a lost boy she could be very sweet.

Arrietty took him a nice big piece of chocolate biscuit. She'd never heard Spiller talk so much and sensed it was for her. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, and cry for him, but just as the feeling was about to overcome her he and Pod left to bring back the rest of the things from the boat. She just knew he'd wanted her to know who and what he was, and she was glad of it. She thought she understood him so much better after hearing his story. That had to be a good thing.

It seemed to her that you ought to get to know the person you were going to marry, and she was more sure than ever she wanted to marry him but her parents would have to get more used to the idea, and as Homily had said, Arrietty would have to tie him down a bit. Arrietty wasn't sure if he was ready to be tied down, and even if he was, how in the world she was going to do it. She didn't want to change him. She liked him exactly as he was, but she had a nagging suspicion that marriage was the exact sort of thing that changed everyone. She'd have to give it some thought.