CHAPTER IV.

Jim and Helen

"I knew how it would be," Helen exclaimed passionately, as soon as she could find her voice; "and I warned you two others, only you would not listen. I knew perfectly well that Hal was not going to let us go in, and I call it downright unfair, and I for one am not going to field for him any more.—And you say," she added, turning indignantly to Hal, "that girls can't play cricket. Well, they can. Father says himself that Drusie plays awfully well for a girl, and I suppose he ought to know."

"For a girl," Hal said slightingly; "yes, that is just it."

"Please don't quarrel," Drusie said quickly. "You may stay in if you like, Hal, and I will bowl for you.—Jump up, Jim, and go and be wicket-keeper."

With a scornful sniff for what she considered to be great weakness on Drusie's part, Helen returned to her place, where, in spite of her declaration that she did not intend to play any more, she continued to field.

For a girl Drusie did bowl remarkably well, and Hal would have been the first to own it, had he not perceived a sort of triumphant "told you so" expression on Helen's face, which annoyed him greatly, and made him withhold the praise which Drusie would have been so pleased to hear.

She exerted herself to do her very best, and before many minutes had passed she clean bowled him. There could be no doubt about it this time, for the twig on which the cap had been hung was broken by the force of the ball, and the cap fell to the ground.

"Hurrah!" Helen shrieked, dancing about and clapping her hands. "How about girls not being able to bowl now, Master Hal? I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?"

"I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?""I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?"

Hal looked not only mortified but exceedingly angry into the bargain.

"You are a precious set, I must say," he said, looking contemptuously at the excited capers which Helen was cutting. "One would think that you had done something awfully wonderful by the way in which you are going on. That is just like a girl. Let her do something which she thinks rather clever, and there is no end to her airs."

This was really rather severe on Drusie, who had neither said nor done anything to justify Hal's scornful remarks. But he was too annoyed to be fair, and as a punishment for what he chose to call Drusie's bragging, he tucked his bat under his arm, and told them that he was not going to play with them any more.

"You can brag by yourselves," he said, "of your wonderful cricket. I am not going to put up with you any longer. I am sick of you all. I must say it is awfully hard on a fellow to come home and find that not one of his brothers or sisters is worth playing with. A more conceited, disagreeable lot I never met with."

A dismayed silence followed this abrupt departure. It was broken by a short, quick sigh from Drusie.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" she said, looking after Hal as he marched off with as much dignity as he could. "I do wish that I had not bowled him. If I had guessed that it would make him so cross, I would have sent him easy, baby-balls."

"And got told for your pains that you could not bowl," Helen said with much scorn. "I do wonder how you can be so silly, Drusie. I think it serves Hal quite right. But I told you how it would be. I knew we should not get our innings. You can't say that I did not warn you."

"No, we certainly can't," Jim said with a chuckle. "You have had a sort of 'I told you so' expression on your face ever since we began to play. And you know, Helen, if you ask me, I think it is all your fault that Hal went off in such a huff. He simply couldn't stand your being so awfully delighted when Drusie bowled him."

If Hal's sudden display of temper had struck dismay into the hearts of his brothers and sisters, it had not left him particularly happy either. Though he would not own it, even to himself, he had an uncomfortable feeling that it was he who was conceited and disagreeable. He was, however, full of excuses for himself, and when his conscience pricked him he answered impatiently that nobody could be expected to put up with the fearful airs that they had all been giving themselves.

Then, looking round to see that he was not being followed, he made his way to a hiding-place he had discovered behind the summer-house, and proceeded to employ himself there after a fashion of which nurse would most strongly have disapproved. He remained until the dinner-bell rang, when he crept out with a pale face and with every bit of his appetite gone.

He dined alone in the schoolroom, and nurse shook her head as his plates were carried back to the nursery, for he had scarcely touched anything that she had sent in to him.

"I hope, Master Hal, you are not going to be ill," she said, as soon as dinner was over. "What has come to you? You have not eaten anything."

"I am not hungry," Hal muttered, flushing under her scrutinizing gaze. "I have got rather a headache—that's all."

"Well, don't run about much in the sun," nurse said, only half satisfied. "You are looking very pale. Put on your straw hat too; that little cap is of no use at all. And don't go eating any green apples or gooseberries. I expect you have been in the kitchen-garden this morning, and that is what is the matter with you."

But it was neither green apples nor gooseberries which had given Hal the very uncomfortable sensations from which he was suffering. That, however, he did not explain to nurse; and feeling very wretched and unhappy he wandered out into the garden, and flung himself under a big, shady elm-tree. The others were nowhere in sight, and he felt injured that they should, even after his conduct of the morning, have left him to himself.

"A nice, sociable set they are," he said moodily. "Oh dear, how I do wish that I had somebody sensible to play with!"

But though he chose to grumble, he knew perfectly well that he was not just then in the humour to appreciate any society, however sensible, and pillowing his head upon his arm he dropped off to sleep.

Hal asleep

Meanwhile, Drusie had planned a busy afternoon for herself and the others, for they intended to go to the fort and make ammunition for Tuesday.

Few children had nicer grounds to play in than the Danvers children. The garden was very large, and besides the lawn and the winding walks among the shrubberies, which afforded such capital hiding-places when they played hide-and-seek, there was the large kitchen-garden as well. Beyond the kitchen-garden lay pleasant, sunny fields, at the foot of which flowed a small stream that farther down joined the river in which Jumbo had been so nearly drowned. On the other side of the stream lay a long slip of land which Mr. Danvers always spoke of as a waste piece of ground, and over which he sometimes threatened to send the plough. But partly because the ground was really too poor to be of much good, and partly because the children begged him to leave it alone, it had never yet been disturbed, and the Wilderness, as they had named it, remained theirs to all intents and purposes.

That the Wilderness was a brambly place could not be denied. It had originally been a grove of nut trees, and though some of these still flourished and bore nuts that had not their equal for size and flavour in all the country-side, they had for the most part been strangled by blackberry bushes and briers, and smothered by masses of wild clematis.

The fort stood in a corner of the Wilderness. Within a few yards of it on one side was the stream; on the other and at the back it was surrounded by densely-growing hawthorn bushes. But the front was open and exposed to attack, for a cleared space in which only a few scattered nut trees grew lay before it.

This fort had once been a summer-house, but it had long since been disused, and would, no doubt, have fallen into decay, had not the children hit upon the idea of making it the scene of their pitched battles, and had so propped it up and strengthened it that it was impossible to take except by surprise.

The door had been nailed up and so had the window, and entrance could only be effected by scrambling up on the flat roof, and dropping through a hole which had been made there for that purpose. Even that hole could be closed by a hatch in time of need, and the besieged could lie snugly inside and listen to the heavy firing without, secure in the knowledge that as long as he chose to remain there none of the besiegers could touch him. But then his flag would be in danger; and by their rules of warfare, if the flag were captured or shot down, the fort was held to have capitulated.

For more than a week before Hal's return from school the others had been busy getting the ammunition ready; they had dug up a quantity of sand from the bed of the stream, which, when mixed with a little clay and moistened with water, represented cannon-balls. As, however, they had no cannon, these balls had to be thrown by hand; and as they scattered when they struck, they appeared more formidable than they really were. But still one had been known to bring down the flag, and so win the day for the besiegers.

The fort was mainly defended with a catapult loaded with mud pellets, shot being strictly forbidden as too dangerous. To protect them the besiegers wore a kind of helmet, which, though it gave them a somewhat ludicrous appearance, saved them from many a nasty blow. These helmets were neither more nor less than fine wire-gauze dish-covers, which they tied across their faces and fastened at the back of their heads. But the holder of the fort had to rely chiefly upon capture to win a victory, and when his enemies approached too closely, a bold rush often resulted in one of them being made prisoner. But, of course, even a brief absence from the fort left the flag undefended, and there was always a chance that, while one of the attackers was being pursued, some of the others might steal up and succeed in going off with the flag.

So it will be easily understood that courage and skill, combined with a spirit that was bold and yet not too rash, were required to hold the fort. And as none of them possessed these qualities to the same extent as Hal, it followed that none of them held the fort as well as he did, or made such a good fight of it.

Superintended by Drusie, they all worked very busily at the ammunition, and as they kneaded cannon-balls and pellets they laid out a plan of attack for the following Tuesday. Jim was of the opinion that they never took enough advantage of the shelter afforded by the thick and almost impenetrable bushes that grew on one side of the fort, and he proposed that while two of them made an attack in the open air, he or Drusie should lie concealed, and if Hal could be drawn out in pursuit they might get a chance of slipping in during his absence.

"He may have brought back some new dodges," said Drusie hopefully. "I wonder if he has ever played a game of this sort at school? Do you think he has, Jim?"

Jim thought it was doubtful.

"I believe they always play cricket in the summer term," he said. "But this will be a splendid change for him."

"I hope it will," said Drusie, with a sigh. "But I am simply not going to think what we shall do if, after all our trouble, Hal turns up his nose at a fight on Tuesday."

Hal running

At tea-time Hal did not put in an appearance at all.

"He ought to be hungry," nurse said, "for he did not eat much dinner. I wonder where he can be?"

Tea was over, and they had all gone out into the garden again for a last stroll before bed-time, when they saw him come running across the field, which was separated from the lawn by a sunk fence. Leaping this, he rushed towards them, looking brighter and happier than he had done since his return.

"I say," he called out; "whom do you think I have met this afternoon? I have had such a splendid time; just guess."

They shook their heads; they could form no guess at all.

"Well, you will hardly believe it, but Dodds is down here. Dodds Major," he added, seeing that somehow his news did not produce as much effect as he had anticipated.

"Who is Dodds Major?" Drusie asked.

"Oh, how stupid you are!" Hal cried; "Why, I have told you about him in my letters lots of times. He is out and away the nicest fellow in our school. A big fellow, too, thirteen and a half, and simply splendid at cricket. He is leaving at Christmas, and going to the college."

"Does he live down here?" said Drusie.

"No; he is staying at the Grange with his uncle, Captain Grey. He is going to be here the whole holidays. Isn't it splendid for me?"

"Why," said Drusie, with a sudden sinking of her heart, "will you be much with him?"

"Rather," said Hal; "as much as ever he will have me. Of course," he added, with an important air, "he is jolly glad, too, to find another fellow down here. We are going fishing to-morrow in Captain Grey's trout stream. Dodds says that it is simply packed with fish. Won't that be jolly? I was playing cricket with him all this afternoon. He is going to play in a match that some friends of his uncle's are getting up next week, and he says that perhaps he can get me into it too. Won't that be jolly?"

In short, Hal was brimming over with good spirits. When, soon afterwards, nurse called Helen and Tommy to come to bed, Hal invited Drusie and Jim to come and sit with him while he had his tea, in order that he might chatter to them of his doings that afternoon, and about what he intended to do in future. And, of course, Dodds's name figured largely in his conversation, and neither Drusie nor Jim could help feeling rather glum as they heard how completely they were to be left out in the cold.

"It was a lucky chance meeting him," Hal rattled on. "After dinner I had a nap, and then I went for a stroll. I crossed over the river and went up the field that lies next to the Wilderness, and there, sitting on a gate, I saw Dodds. I can tell you I was surprised, and so was he. We talked for a bit, and then he asked me to come and play cricket. We had an awfully jolly afternoon, I can tell you," Hal added for the fiftieth time, at least. "I am jolly glad that he is here."

"Will you ask him to come over here and play?" said Drusie. "It would be rather nice to have some cricket with him—wouldn't it, Jim?"

Hal looked as though his ears had been deceiving him.

"What?" he said. "Ask Dodds over here to play with all of you? Why, you must be out of your senses, Drusie. The idea of Dodds playing with a girl! I say, how he would laugh!—We might have you, though, sometimes, Jim; you would be useful for fielding. I will ask him to-morrow if he would mind."

Jim, far from being overwhelmed at the possible honour in store for him, privately made up his mind to decline it with thanks when the time came.

While Hal had been speaking, a sudden idea had occurred to Drusie, and her face lit up with eagerness and excitement.

"O Hal," she exclaimed, "I believe that Dodds Major is our boy—the nice boy who rescued Jumbo, and who talked to us for such a long time."

Hal laughed scornfully.

"You don't know Dodds Major," he said. "He is not a bit like that. Why, I tell you that he hates girls, and wouldn't take any notice at all of any of you. Why, he is older even than I am."

"So was this boy," said Drusie. "But, of course, if you say that Dodds Major is not nice, they cannot be the same."

"I never said Dodds was not nice," Hal said impatiently. "I only said that he was not the sort of boy to play with girls. I expect that fellow you met this morning was an awful muff."

Chapter IV headpiece

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or the next two or three days his family saw little of Hal. Morning, afternoon, and evening he was over at the Greys'. His meals he took in the schoolroom, and though nurse would have allowed him to come back to the nursery, if he had cared to do so, he very much preferred to have them in solitary state. He seemed to see nothing ridiculous in sitting there by himself; indeed, as he confided to Drusie, he thought it perfectly absurd that a boy of his age should ever have been expected to take them in the nursery.

She and the rest had plenty of time to make all their preparations for the double birthday to be celebrated on Tuesday, for Hal left them completely to themselves; and when he did see them, he was so full of all that he and Dodds Major did together that he had no time to show any interest in them.

"I should very much like to ask him whether he intends to take part in the fight to-morrow, or whether he means to spend the day as usual with his friend," said Helen.

It was late on Monday evening, and they had brought all their preparations to a satisfactory conclusion. The flag—a bright, new Union Jack—had been fastened to a long, slender pole, and was quite ready to be hoisted. The ammunition was arranged in a neat, high pile, and the armour lay ready to hand.

And in the garden summer-house, where, a few days back, the secret meeting had been held, the materials for a most sumptuous feast were in readiness to refresh the weary warriors when the day's work was done.

On previous birthdays they had always been satisfied with lemonade as a drink, but Drusie, feeling that this was a special occasion, had considered that lemonade was, perhaps, hardly a suitable form of refreshment; and so, from a recipe which she was proud to think was entirely out of her own head, she had concocted a bottle of red wine.

"And I think," she said, as she carefully hid it under the seat—"I think that when you taste it you will say that you never in all your lives before drank anything like it."

Tartlets and buns and a few other delicacies were to be ordered from the pastry-cook's on the eventful day itself.

So, everything being ready, and it wanting still an hour or more till their bedtime, they were rather at a loss to know what to do with themselves; and then it was that Helen expressed a desire to know what part Hal intended to take in the morrow's proceedings.

"No part at all, if you ask me," she added. "I say, Drusie, don't you think we might go up to the Greys' gate, and see if we can get a look at Hal and his precious friend Dodds?"

"Hal would be awfully angry if he saw us," said Drusie. "I don't think we should go."

But the hesitating tone in which she spoke showed that she was open to persuasion; and when Jim added his word to Helen's, and said that he thought there would be no harm in just going up and having a look over, she gave way. They soon reached the five-barred gate on which Hal had found Dodds sitting.

Neither of them was there, now, however; and so Helen proposed that they should climb over, and go down the grassy glade, which would bring them on to a small knoll, from whence they could command a view of the house and the wide lawn that lay in front of it.

The temptation to see Hal and his friend together was too strong for them to remember that they would be trespassing, and, scrambling over the gate, they made their way cautiously through the wood.

It was as well that they went cautiously, for the two boys were much closer to them than they had expected. To the left of the wood was a big level field, and it was here, and not on the lawn, that they were playing. The sound of a voice calling impatiently to Hal to hurry up with that ball, and not to be all night about it, was what first drew their attention to his whereabouts; and feeling rather astonished that any one should venture to address him in that imperious way, they crept up to the edge of the wood, and became silent spectators of what was going on.

The wicket was pitched in the middle of the field. Dodds was batting, but as his back was toward them, the children could not see his face. But they could hear his voice, and a very imperious, commanding voice it was. Hal was bowling and fielding as well, and as Dodds sent his balls flying to all parts of the field, Hal had plenty of work to do. And while he raced about in all directions Dodds lay luxuriously on the grass and shouted to him to hurry up. Presently Hal bowled a ball that very nearly knocked the middle stump flat on its back, and Drusie softly clapped her hands, and said "Bravo" under her breath.

Dodds laying on grass

"That was a very good ball indeed," they heard Dodds say approvingly. "Send a few more like that."

Hal flushed with pride and pleasure at this praise, but the others thought that he looked a shade disappointed as his friend placed himself again in front of the wicket.

But he continued to bowl for other ten minutes; then Dodds remarked that the light was getting bad, and that they might as well stop.

"I would bowl a bit for you," he said. "It is too dark to see the ball properly; I hope you don't mind. I really did mean to let you have some batting to-day."

"Oh, it does not matter," Hal said hurriedly. "Any time will do. I don't mind a bit."

"Still, I don't like to be selfish," said Dodds, whose conscience appeared to be pricking him. The unseen listeners among the bushes thought it might have pricked him a little earlier in the day, for they soon learned that neither on this occasion nor on any other had Hal been permitted to bat. He had merely bowled and fielded for Dodds. When they recovered from their astonishment at this, they could hardly help laughing. It was really rather funny, after all Hal's bragging, to find that he was only made use of in the way that he made use of them.

And the curious part of it was that Hal raised no objection, although it was easy to see that he was feeling a little disappointed this evening. On the other hand, he was so flattered at being allowed to associate, even on these unequal terms, with a boy so much older than himself, that he took care to smother his discontent.

"What about to-morrow?" said Dodds carelessly. "Can you be here pretty early?"

Hal hesitated for a minute before replying. In spite of Helen's assertions to the contrary, he had not forgotten that to-morrow was the day of the storming of the fort.

Several times, as he had hastened to and from the Greys', he had heard them at work there, and had known perfectly well what they were doing. He had even overheard a conversation, in which they discussed the likelihood of his taking part in the fight.

And at the time Hal, touched to see how much they wanted him, had resolved that he would spend the whole of his birthday with them.

"Yes," Dodds went on; "come as soon after breakfast as you can—it is cooler then—and we will have a regular good go in. I want to make a big score at that match next week. You are coming over to see it, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Hal stammered. Though Dodds had not mentioned that cricket match during the last few days, Hal had not forgotten his promise to get him included in it if possible. Consequently, Dodds's careless inquiry as to whether he intended to come over as a mere spectator disconcerted him very much. However, he swallowed his disappointment, and said that he had thought of going.

"But about to-morrow," he added. "I don't think I can come—"

"Oh, but you must," Dodds cried out, interrupting him. "I simply can't do without you. Look here; if it is the batting that you are feeling sore about, you shall go in first. There! I have promised you that."

Hal's face brightened. Hedidwish to show Dodds that his batting was very much better than his bowling. And perhaps Dodds would be so struck with the brilliancy of his performance that he might after all manage to secure him a place in the match. It would be a real pity, he reflected, to neglect such a chance. After all, the others could very well do without him to-morrow.

"Well," said Dodds impatiently, "what do you say? Will you come? Or are you going somewhere with your brothers and sisters? You have got some, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Hal; "but I never play with them—not since I have been at school, at least. You see they are all much younger than I am."

"Oh, a set of kids," said Dodds indifferently. "What a nuisance they must be!"

But this Hal did have the grace to contradict.

"Oh no, they are not," he said; "but they have kept on liking things that I don't care about, and they get huffy when I don't play with them. Of course," he added with an aggrieved air, "it is hardly likely that I should care to mix myself up very much with them now."

"I see," said Dodds; and though they could not see his face, Drusie and Jim were sure there must have been a twinkle of merriment in his eyes. "You have grown out of all their games, you mean, and are too old to play with them any more."

"Yes," said Hal eagerly; "that's just it. Now, you understand that all right at once, but I cannot get them to see it."

"It is wonderful how silly kids can be," said Dodds gravely. "But, look here; are you coming or are you not? For, if you are not, I shall ask one of the Harveys to spend the day with me."

That was enough for Hal. Throwing his scruples and his half-formed resolution to spend his birthday at home to the winds, he said at once that he would come.

"That's right," said Dodds in the half-patronizing tone he had used all along. "Be here directly after breakfast then, and you shall have first innings; that's a bargain."

"I won't forget," said Hal in a delighted tone. "I expect I shall be up here about nine o'clock."

It was a very melancholy little quartette that presently emerged from the bushes, and took its way home through the woods and the fields.

"I never should have believed it of Hal—never!" said Helen, quite forgetting that she had always warned the others of what they might expect. "To desert us on his birthday, and for a boy that does not care a bit about him, except to make use of him!"

"It is funny," said Jim thoughtfully. "I never should have thought that Hal would have allowed another boy to order him about as Dodds does. Why, he fags for Dodds just as Hal would like us to fag for him; only we won't. And he did not seem to mind a bit."

But Drusie never spoke one single word the whole way home. To think that Hal—her own twin—from whom, until a short three months ago, she had been almost inseparable, should arrange to spend the whole of his birthday away from home caused her bitter grief. It was not even that he had forgotten the fact of their birthdays. She knew quite well he remembered, from the momentary hesitation he had shown. No; he had deliberately chosen to desert her, and Drusie felt as if she should never get over it.

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Chapter V headpiece

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ll, the Danvers, except, perhaps, Tommy, who was too young to take things very much to heart, awoke the next morning with a weight on their minds, and not, as Helen said afterwards, "with a bit of birthday feeling about them."

Hal was ashamed of himself. Though he was unaware, of course, that they had overheard his conversation with Dodds, he guessed from their downcast faces that they knew that he intended to desert them on his and Drusie's birthday, and was not going near the fort.

He was more ashamed than ever when, lying beside his plate at breakfast, he found one of the handsomest pocket-knives he had ever seen. It had no less than four blades, besides so many other weapons that, as the man who sold it remarked to Drusie and Jim, "it was a carpenter's tool-chest in miniature."

And a dreadful feeling of remorse came over Hal when he remembered that he had neglected to get something for Drusie. It was not that he had forgotten her birthday either—seeing that it was on the same day as his own, he could not very well do that; and when he had gone to school he had quite made up his mind to put aside at least half of his pocket-money every week, and save it for her.

"It does not matter in the least," Drusie said eagerly, when Hal began to stammer out his shamefaced apologies. "I don't want a present from you one bit. I know quite well that boys must have a great deal to do with their money at school."

At that Hal got rather red. He remembered the regular weekly visits to the "tuck-shop;" and he knew that if he had only denied himself a little, Drusie might have had her birthday present.

"I did ask nurse to advance me some money when I came home," he said in self-defence, "but she would not."

Drusie assured him again that she had not expected a present, and begged him not to say anything more about it. And so nothing more was said; and although Helen was burning to ask him what he had done with his shilling, she remembered her promise to Drusie, and did not make any unpleasant inquiries.

Half an hour later Drusie and Jim, having fed all the animals, were loitering on the sunny terrace together when Hal, looking very spick and span in a clean suit of flannels, came out with his bat under his arm.

"I suppose you are going to play cricket," said Drusie in a tone from which she tried to keep the wistfulness she felt.

"Well, yes; I am," said Hal, carefully avoiding the reproachful gaze of Jim's brown eyes. "Dodds wanted me particularly, or else, you know, Drusie, I should have stayed with you, and done what we always do on our birthdays."

This explanation was meant as a sort of apology, and Drusie never could bear any one, especially Hal, to apologize to her.

"It doesn't matter, Hal," she said generously, winking away a troublesome tear that would tremble on her eyelashes. "You have a right to enjoy yourself in your holidays, and, of course, you are bigger than all of us now."

"Do you mind very much about my going, Drusie?" Hal said suddenly; "for, if you do, I will throw Dodds over, and come and defend the fort."

A flash of joy passed over Drusie's face, but the next moment it died out, and she shook her head. She knew her brother better than he knew himself, and she was sure that, if he gave up his own wishes for theirs, he would regret it long before the morning was over.

"No, Hal," she said. "If you promised Dodds, you ought to go."

"Well, don't say thatIdid not offer," said Hal, very much relieved that the offer had not been accepted.

"No, I won't; and it was very good of you," said Drusie warmly; and Hal, feeling that he had behaved very generously, went on his way whistling a cheerful tune.

"It is a good thing that Helen was not here," said Jim, "or Master Hal would not have got off so easily. I know she is burning to give him a piece of her mind."

"Oh, I hope she won't," said Drusie, in real distress; "and he has been so nice about it. You heard him offering to stay, Jim?"

"Yes," said Jim, "I heard him, and I thought you were very wise not to accept. He would have been sorry long before the fight was over."

Meanwhile Hal, feeling very well pleased with himself, hurried on, and reached the cricket field just as a distant church clock was striking nine.

Dodds had not yet arrived, and Hal thought with pleasure of the promise Dodds had given him that he should go in first. And he meant to stay in too; Dodds should not get him out so easily as he imagined. He only hoped that Dodds would not get tired of bowling to him, and turn him out willy nilly.

That was the worst, he reflected, of playing with a boy so much older than himself. At school Dodds was an immensely popular fellow, and a new and comparatively small boy, as Hal was, would have been very much snubbed if he had ventured to say a word against him. But here Hal could not help seeing that Dodds was rather inclined to be selfish. And Hal was quick not only to see but to resent selfishness in other people.

He had plenty of time to think over the faults in the character of his friend, for half-past nine and then ten struck, and still he had not put in an appearance. Hal began to get impatient, for the sun was gradually getting hotter, and soon it would be too warm to play with any comfort. It really was too bad of Dodds to treat him so.

He wondered what the others were doing, and whether they had begun their fight. If it had not been for Dodds, he might have been with them now, instead of dawdling away the whole of the morning doing nothing.

For another half-hour Hal waited, and at the end of that time he came to the conclusion that Dodds did not intend to turn up at all.

"Heisselfish," he thought indignantly. "Here have I spoiled the whole of my birthday morning waiting for him. I might have been defending the fort all this time and enjoying myself."

Here his conscience whispered that he might also have been helping his twin sister to enjoy her birthday; and when he remembered how bravely she had concealed her own disappointment, and how unselfishly she had told him to go and spend his birthday in the manner that pleased him best, he began to see how very selfishly he had behaved.

"I will go to them now," he thought, starting up; "there are heaps of time to have a rattling good fight before dinner."

And so there would have been, but—alas! for his good resolutions—as he jumped to his feet something fell out of his pocket. It was the little packet which he had bought last Saturday.

For a moment he hesitated; then down he sat, and picked up the packet.

"I will have just one," he said, "and then go and play with them."

"One" proved to be a cigarette, for cigarettes were what the little packet contained.

Ever since he came home, he had been trying to master the art of smoking, and had not yet succeeded. Each cigarette made him feel worse than before. But with a perseverance worthy of a better cause he would puff steadily on, and try hard to believe that he was enjoying himself.

One or two of the elder boys at his school—Dodds was not among the number—had boasted that they often smoked in the holidays, and Hal had been fired with the idea that it would be a fine thing to be able to say when he went back that he knew how to smoke too.

And this was the secret of much of his altered behaviour, of his mysterious absences, and more than all of his frequent pale looks and irritable moods. The discomfort he felt when the cigarette was actually between his lips was nothing compared to the very disagreeable sensations that always followed. He would feel sick and dizzy, and suffer from a headache for hours afterwards; but as soon as he recovered he would return to the charge and refuse to acknowledge himself beaten.

This morning he met with no better success. He began to feel ill long before he had half finished his first cigarette, and by the time he was half-way through the second the most painful qualms seized him, and forgetting the fort and the fight and everything else in his extreme misery he rolled over on the grass, and spent a most unhappy morning. At dinner-time he crept into the nursery looking so pale and wretched that nurse was really alarmed.

Hal with cigarette

"I can't think what has come to you, Master Hal," she said. "You never used to suffer from these dreadful sick headaches. You had better go straight and lie down, and I will have some soup sent up to you."

Hal was thankful to accept her advice. The sight of the roast mutton, and the currant tart with Devonshire cream, which formed the nursery dinner that day, made him shudder; and going to his own room, he flung himself on the bed, and after having taken some of the soup which was brought to him, he fell asleep.

"Which," said Helen, as she and the rest peeped at him through a chink in the doorway, "isoneway of spending a birthday."

Helen looking through doorway

"This birthday has been a failure altogether," said Jim. "I thought the morning was never coming to an end, and what we are to do this afternoon I am sure I don't know."

"You won't take my advice and let us have a fight by ourselves," said Helen. "It might not be much fun, but, anyway, it would be much better than dawdling away the whole day."

But the others did not agree with her. They felt that without Hal the whole thing would be lacking in spirit.

"I had meant to order a wagonette and take you all for a nice drive," said nurse, who was sorry for their disappointment. "But now that Master Hal looks so queer, I don't like to leave him."

"Hal has spoiled our whole day," said Helen in a grumbling tone, as they all sauntered somewhat aimlessly across the garden.

"Poor Hal!" said Drusie softly; "if it comes to that, he is not having a very nice day himself, Helen."

"And he has not spoiled our feast, Helen," put in Tommy. "We are going to have that all the same—aren't we, Drusie?"

"Oh yes," she said cheerfully; though, to tell the truth, the feast had lost all charms for her. She was not even looking forward to seeing them drink her wonderful wine.

Though they had not intended when they started to go near the fort, almost without their knowing it their steps led them in the direction of the Wilderness, and scrambling over the gap in the hedge, they pushed their way towards the camp. This was a small clearing in the surrounding thicket, which was always used by the attacking party as a meeting-ground and a store-house for ammunition. There it lay ready for use—piles and piles of sandy balls, of all shapes and sizes.

They really could not bear to look at them, and turning away they went in single file down to the fort. The flag that had floated so defiantly from its summit all day might as well be hauled down, for if it rained in the night it would be spoiled.

A narrow path led from the camp; and when Drusie, who was leading the way, came within sight of the fort she paused and gave vent to a mournful sigh. The flag, waving gently in the soft summer breeze, looked so beautiful, and it did seem such a pity that it was to be taken down in so ignominious a manner.

She advanced into the open, thinking, as she did so, how, if there had been any one to defend the fort, they would have been obliged to skulk from bush to bush, taking advantage of every scrap of cover.

She looked round and smiled to see that, from the mere force of habit, the others were darting cautiously from bush to bush, exposing themselves as little as possible to the imaginary fire from the fort.

It would have been well for her had she taken the same precaution, for the next moment a shriek, that was half of pain and half of delight, broke from her.

She had received a stinging blow—one that was evidently aimed from a catapult—on her hand.

"Jim," she cried, "Halisin the fort. Hurrah, hurrah! We are going to have a fight after all!"

Here another bullet, not so well aimed as the last, whizzed past her, and drove her to seek shelter in the nearest bush.

"Are you better, Hal?" she called. "And do you really want to fight?"

There was no answer to the first question, but a shot that struck her just above the ankle was a sufficient reply to her second; and, quite regardless of the pain, she gave another loud whoop of joy, in which the other three joined.

"We must get back to the camp," Jim cried, "and arm ourselves. This is altogether too one-sided an affair."

Bitterly now did they regret the rashness which had led them to approach in such a confident, careless manner. Yet, at the same time, they could not help admiring the wiliness which the enemy had shown in thus reserving his fire.

His aim was deadly; but, with a generosity that was truly noble, he did not take advantage of the fact that they were without their armour, and refrained from hitting their faces.

Almost every shot found its mark on them, and at last, despairing of being able to wriggle away in good order, they rose to their feet and made a dash into the thicket.

Rushing pell-mell to the camp, they tied their dish-covers over their faces, and, arming themselves with as much ammunition as they could carry, returned to the clearing.

But now they were more prudent. Silently they stole through the Wilderness, advancing with such caution that hardly the creaking of a twig betrayed their advance; and, keeping themselves carefully concealed, they suddenly hurled the big balls at the fort, throwing them high, so that they should drop through the top. A great noise of spluttering, followed by a fit of mingled coughing and choking, told them that their fire had taken ample effect, and had even partially disabled the enemy.

"Let's rush the fort," cried Jim; and breaking into the open, he headed a wild dash.

Their united attack had quite silenced the fort, and they anticipated an easy victory. Springing on to a projecting ledge just outside one of the loopholes, Jim's head was already above the level of the summit, and his outstretched arm was within a foot of the flagstaff, when something hurtled through the air, and, to Jim's intense astonishment, a coil of rope fell heavily over his shoulders, and slipped to his waist.

"A lasso, a lasso!" Drusie shrieked. "Look out; it is tightening."

The warning came just in the nick of time. Taken utterly by surprise, Jim yet did not lose his presence of mind.

Grasping the rope with both hands, he kept the knot from growing tighter; then sliding through the noose with the slipperiness of an eel, he dropped to the ground. But unluckily he caught his foot in the noose, and although he immediately twisted it free, he fell sprawling to the ground. In that position he afforded a splendid mark to the enemy, who got two good shots at him before he could move.

The others had wisely retreated to the thicket; and there Jim, limping somewhat from his fall, joined them.

"That lasso is a splendid idea," said Drusie enthusiastically. "I wonder how Hal ever came to think of it. I don't believe he has been ill at all, but only just pretending, on purpose to give us this lovely surprise."

"It was a lovely surprise," said Jim, laughing. "I thought I was done for that time. I say, Drusie, we shall have to be awfully careful, or we shall be taken prisoners before we know where we are."

"The only way is to keep at a safe distance and throw high," said Drusie; "for the balls break as they fall, and if they drop on to his head they fill his eyes and his mouth so full of sand that he is obliged to take off his helmet and clear it all out."

"Well, we can't do better than follow the same plan again," said Helen. "Only, don't you remember what we did last year? Some of us threw high, while some of us aimed at the loophole and blocked it up."

"I've got a much better idea than that," said Drusie. "I vote that we scatter, and creep as near to the fort as ever we can, and then when I give a low "coo-ee" we will all fire, and make a dash for the fort. And if we do that altogether, Hal won't know which to aim at, and so one of us ought to get the flag.—What do you say, Jim?"

"I approve," he said; "only look out for that lasso trick."

Then they separated, Jim and Tommy working their way up the stream, while Drusie wriggled through the thick undergrowth, with a view to approaching the fort at the back. To Helen was given the easier task of skirting round the clearing, keeping well under cover of the bushes, and holding herself in readiness to dash into the open and fire when the signal was given.

It seemed to her a task that was almost too easy, and, as she crouched under a bramble bush, it occurred to her that if she advanced gradually nearer to the fort she would be of much more use to her party than if she merely followed her instructions and remained where she was. Accordingly, dropping on her hands and knees, she left the safe shelter of the denser part of the Wilderness, and crawled out to a bush.

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