Free William The Conqueror by Richmal Crompton

purchases and their choice was warmly and unanimously approved by the saints.
    ‘Wish we’d thought of something to drink,’ said Henry.
    But William, with a smile of pride, brought out from his pocket a bottle of dark liquid.
    ‘I thought of that,’ he said, holding it out with a flourish, ‘have a drink of brother lik’rice water.’
    Not to be outdone, Douglas took up one of the bags.
    ‘An’ have a sister cream bun,’ he said loudly.
    When they had eaten and drunk to repletion they rested for a short time from their labours. William had meant to fill in time by preaching to Jumble, but decided instead to put Jumble through
his tricks.
    ‘I s’pose they know now at home that we’ve gone for good,’ said Henry with a sigh.
    Ginger looked out of the little window anxiously.
    ‘Yes. I only hope to goodness they won’t come an’ try to fetch us back,’ he said.
    But he need not have troubled. Each family thought that the missing member was having lunch with one of the others, and felt no anxiety, only a great relief. And none of the notes upon the
mantelpieces had been found.
    ‘What’ll we do now ?’ said William, rousing himself at last.
    ‘ They built a church,’ said Ginger.
    ‘Crumbs!’ said William, taken aback. ‘Well, we can’t do that, can we?’
    ‘Oh, I dunno,’ said Ginger vaguely, ‘jus’ keep on putting stones on each other. It was quite a little church.’
    ‘Well, it’d take us more’n quite a little time.’
    ‘Yes, but we’ve gotter do something ’stead of goin’ to school, an’ we may’s well do that.’
    ‘’S almost as bad as goin’ to school,’ said William gloomily. ‘An’ where’d they get the stones?’
    ‘They jus’ found ’em lying about.’
    ‘Well, come on,’ said William, rising with a resigned air and gathering the folds of his dressing-gown about him, ‘let’s see ’f we can find any lyin’
about.’
    They wandered down the road. They still wore their dressing-gowns, but they wore them with a sheepish air and went cautiously and furtively. Already their affection for their saintly garb was
waning. Fortunately, the road was deserted. They looked up and down, then St Ginger gave a yell of triumph and pointed up the road. The road was being mended, and there lay by the roadside, among
other materials, a little heap of wooden bricks. Moreover, the bricks were unguarded and unattended.
    It was the British workman’s dinner hour, and the British workman was spending it in the nearest pub.
    ‘Crumbs!’ said the Williamcans in delight.
    They fell upon the wooden bricks and bore them off in triumph. Soon they had a pile of them just outside the barn where they had resolved to build the church – almost enough, the head of
the order decided, to begin on. But as they paid their last visit for bricks they met a little crowd of other children, who burst into loud jeering cries.
    ‘Look at ’em . . . Dear little girlies . . . wearin’ nice long pinnies . . . Oh, my! Oh, don ’ they look sweet? Hello, little darlin’s!’
    William flung aside his saintly robe and closed with the leader. The other saints closed with the others. Quite an interesting fight ensued. The saints, smaller in number and size than the other
side, most decidedly got the best of it, though not without many casualties. The other side took to its heels.
    St William, without much enthusiasm, picked his saintly robe up from the mud and began to put it on.
    ‘Don’ see much sense in wearin’ these things,’ he said.
    ‘You ought to have preached to ’em, not fought ’em,’ said Ginger severely.
    ‘Well, I bet he wun’t’ve preached to ’em if they’d started makin’ fun of him. He’d’ve fought ’em all right.’
    ‘No, he wun’t,’ said Ginger firmly, ‘he din’t b’lieve in fightin’.’
    William’s respect for his prototype, already on the wane, waned still farther. But he did not lightly relinquish anything he had once undertaken.
    ‘Well,