"Certainly, certainly. Good-morning, Miss Warren! Good-morning, Dick! Come with me, Nero!"
The dog followed his master obediently, now and again pausing a moment to look wistfully after Dick's retreating figure.
As soon as Miss Warren and her little nephew reached home, she insisted on putting him to bed—not for punishment, as she explained, for she had regained her good-humour, and had accepted Dick's apologies—but because she considered such treatment would prevent his feeling any ill effects from his accident.
So Dick lay patiently in bed with the blinds of his room drawn to exclude the brilliant sunshine, and with his aunt by his side refusing to talk, for fear, as she said, of unduly exciting him after the shock she persisted he must be suffering from on account of his unexpected ducking. In vain did Dick protest he felt quite well; he had to remain in bed till the doctor returned, when he was permitted to get up and come downstairs for tea. Seeing Aunt Mary Ann was vexed no longer, he was perfectly willing to give an account of his morning's adventure, and owned that he had been so intent in searching for the entrance to the secret passage that he had forgotten the flight of time.
"I quite forgot I had promised not to go out of sight," he said in conclusion with a deprecating glance at Miss Warren.
"Ah, but you should never forget a promise, my boy," the doctor told him gravely, "even if it seems only a trifling matter. I do not know that you could have come to any great harm among the rocks; but you must be more cautious for the future, or I know your aunt will be always fussing when you are out of her sight, and it ought to be unnecessary to keep a watch on a boy of your age. You are old enough to take care of yourself."
"I'm afraid I'm always rather inclined to anticipate misfortune," Miss Warren acknowledged with a sigh. "I well remember how anxious I used to be about your dear mother, Dick, when she was a little girl. Dear me, how vexed I was this morning to meet Sir Richard!"
"Ah, I saw him later on," Dr. Warren said. "He told me of Dick's sad plight, which seems to have caused him some amusement, by the way. I learnt from him that Mrs. Compton and her children are expected to-morrow evening; he is desirous that Dick should see as much of his cousins as possible. I said I was sure Dick would be glad of the company of children of his own age."
"Oh, yes," cried Dick eagerly; "that is, if I like them! I wonder if I shall," he added reflectively.
"I do not doubt you will; but you will soon find that out. I daresay your cousins are as anxious and curious to meet you as you are to meet them. Sir Richard said he should expect to see you at the Manor House the day after to-morrow, and I promised to drop you at the lodge as I did the last time you were there."
"I wish you would tell me more about my aunt and cousins, Uncle Theophilus," Dick requested; "I want to know what they are really like, and—"
"You will be able to form your own opinion of them shortly," the doctor interposed; "I am not good at descriptions of people."
With that answer the little boy had to be satisfied; for Miss Warren knew even less of the Comptons than did her brother. She had seen them in church on Sundays during previous summers, but had never spoken to either mother or children. Dick was more and more surprised to find how little intercourse there had been between the Manor House and No. 8 Fore Street. It puzzled him greatly, and worried him too; but Aunt Mary Ann looked so unhappy when he spoke to her about it that he let the subject drop, and determined never to mention it to her again. He had grown much attached to dear, fussy Aunt Mary Ann, and would not willingly have troubled her for the world.
IT was eight o'clock on the morning subsequent to the arrival of Mrs. Compton and her children at the Manor House, and Lionel and Ruth Compton raced each other down the wide staircase and collided at the bottom. The latter was thrown down; but picking herself up immediately, she turned to her brother and declared,—
"I got down first!"
"No, you did not!" he promptly contradicted.
"I did! Hush! Here comes grandfather!"
The children stood side by side, watching the old man as he came slowly across the hall towards them. He had entered the house by the front door, for he was an early riser, and had been strolling about the garden when the sound of the breakfast-bell fell upon his ears.
"Good-morning, grandfather!" said Lionel.
"Good-morning, grandfather!" echoed Ruth.
Sir Richard glanced at them keenly. They were tall, well-grown children, with fresh complexions, bright blue eyes, and fair hair; but they appeared uneasy beneath their grandfather's scrutiny, the truth being that they regarded him with awe and fear. They knew their mother dreaded his violent temper; and from their earliest days they had been taught that he must not be crossed or vexed in any way, the consequence being that they were never their lighthearted selves in his presence.
"Good-morning, children!" Sir Richard responded. "Is your mother down? No! Well, I shall not wait for her! Eight o'clock is my breakfast-hour, as she knows from experience! Why are you lingering here in the hall? Come, everything will be cold!"
They followed him into the breakfast-room, and took their seats at the table. As Sir Richard was put out that his daughter was late, he vented his irritability on the children. He scolded Lionel for slopping his coffee on the table-cloth; and when Ruth, from sheer nervousness, dropped her knife on the floor and was obliged to dive under the table to fetch it, re-appearing with a face crimson and abashed, he added to her confusion by asking if she took her meals in the nursery at home.
"No," the little girl replied, tears of mortification filling her eyes, "we always have breakfast with mother."
"At what hour, may I inquire?" Sir Richard questioned with an affectation of politeness.
Before Ruth could reply, however, Mrs. Compton hurriedly entered the room. She kissed her father, and sitting down at the table, apologised for being late, adding that she had been very tired the previous night, and had overslept herself. He appeared slightly mollified on hearing this, and the meal proceeded more happily. The children sat by in silence, whilst their elders talked on indifferent subjects. At last their grandfather made a statement which aroused their interest.
"Children, your cousin will be here to-day. I expect you to be kind and friendly to him. Do you understand?"
"Yes, grandfather," responded two meek voices.
"You have not yet told me what you think of the boy, father," Mrs. Compton said, with decided curiosity in her voice. "Is he like my brother or—her?"
"He is like your brother; and there is a look about him of Paul Gidley the martyr," Sir Richard answered briefly.
"Oh!" Mrs. Compton looked thoughtful. "And you are satisfied with him?" she inquired.
"Yes; perfectly satisfied. I wish he was stronger; but Dr. Warren assures me he will improve in health—in fact, I can see a marked change for the better in the child since his arrival in England, I am sure he has grown these last few weeks, and he looks stronger and healthier altogether than he did at first."
"I wonder his mother was satisfied to send him to England alone. Is it not strange she did not accompany him? I am sure nothing would induce me to part with my darlings like that!"
"Ah, but not every mother is so devoted to her children as you are, my dear Arabella," Sir Richard said sarcastically.
Mrs. Compton coloured at her father's tone; but she would not allow herself to be put out of temper, and proceeded,—
"For my part I am very glad the boy's mother is where she is! It would have made things awkward if she had come home too! Richard wanted you to have the boy here, did he not? Of course that would not have done!"
"Why not?" Sir Richard asked bluntly. Then, without waiting for a reply, he said— "It would have done excellently well, as it happens. I regret exceedingly I did not accede to my son's suggestion. Had I known Dick was the sort of boy he is I should certainly have had him here."
Mrs. Compton was too astonished to speak for several minutes. During the last ten years, obeying her father's command, she had held no communication with her brother. When the arbitrary old man had declared that never, as long as he lived, would he forgive his son for making what he considered an imprudent marriage, she had held her tongue, and though she had not openly quarrelled with her brother, she had tacitly sided with her father against him.
"And what sort of boy is he?" she asked presently.
"You will soon be in a position to judge for yourself," Sir Richard told her. "When he is spoken to he holds his head up and looks one in the face; he does not drop his eyes like Lionel there!"
Lionel grew very red at this unprovoked attack, and gave Ruth a kick under the table as a relief to his feelings, which made her jump violently, whereupon her grandfather asked what was the matter.
"Nothing—nothing!" she answered, not daring to tell the truth for fear of the consequences.
"If the children have finished their breakfasts, can they not go?" Mrs. Compton interposed.
"Certainly. Listen to me, Ruth and Lionel, both of you. Your cousin will walk from the lodge to the house, and you can go to meet him. He will probably arrive shortly after ten."
"Yes, grandfather," they replied.
"That's all. Now you may go."
They obeyed quietly; but the minute they were out of the room they rushed helter-skelter upstairs to fetch their hats, and, retracing their footsteps, went out of the front door and through the front garden to the grounds beyond.
"I know he'll be a hateful young prig!" Lionel remarked as soon as they were out of call from the house. He, of course, referred to his unknown cousin. "I'm certain he will be from the way grandfather spoke of him!"
Ruth nodded. She had forgiven his brotherly kick, and was in entire sympathy with him now.
"Holds up his head and looks one in the face!" the boy continued scornfully, quoting Sir Richard's words. "Puts on airs, no doubt, and thinks he's mighty fine because he'll be master here one day! Well, one thing I know—he won't boss me about!"
"Nor me!" echoed Ruth, in her shrill treble.
"A wretched kid like that!" Lionel cried wrathfully. "Why, he's no older than you! We're to be kind and friendly to him! Did you hear that? And his mother was a nobody! She hadn't a penny to bless herself with; and Uncle Richard made a great mistake when he married her! I heard mother say so! Dr. Warren is her uncle, and he lives in the village opposite a baker's shop!" and there was scorn and contempt in the boy's tone.
"I like Dr. Warren," Ruth said. "I thought you did too, Lionel! Don't you remember how kind he was last year when we had the measles?"
"Oh, yes; I know that! But I heard mother say his niece was not at all a suitable wife for Uncle Richard, and grandfather has never forgiven him for marrying her."
The children strolled idly about the grounds, discussing their elders, and putting their own constructions upon their remarks and actions, as children do.
"If that kid was not coming we might have gone down to the beach," Lionel said at length, regretfully. "I wonder how much longer we shall have to wait before he arrives!"
They had reached the lodge by this time. It was a pretty, rose-covered cottage adjoining the main road, inhabited by Groves, Sir Richard's coachman, and his wife.
Mrs. Groves, a portly person in a lilac cotton gown, was whitening her doorstep as the children approached. They explained they were on the look-out for their cousin, and willingly accepted her invitation to come into the lodge and wait.
They had been in Mrs. Groves' parlour before. It was a tiny room, with pots of geraniums in full flower on the window-seat. The walls were covered with a bright crimson paper, and were adorned with coloured prints, and various photographs and nick-nacks. A round mahogany table, brightly polished, stood in the middle of the room, with a basket laden with wax fruit and flowers, covered with a glass shade, in the centre, which was Ruth's especial admiration.
The children sat on a little chintz-covered sofa near the open window, from which they could see the highroad, and chatted and laughed without restraint; they were very different from the subdued, silent pair who had breakfasted with their grandfather that morning.
"This is the dearest, sweetest little room I ever saw!" Ruth exclaimed, looking around with approving eyes. "It is so cosy and comfortable! Mrs. Groves, I would far rather live here than at the Manor House!"
Mrs. Groves laughingly shook her head; but she was secretly very gratified.
"It's bright and cheerful," she replied; "and I do think a home should be that, if it's ever so small!"
"Yes," Ruth agreed, nodding her fair head. "The pattern of your carpet is so pretty, too! I like those big bunches of roses! I should dearly love to have a little room like this for my very own!"
"I wonder how you'll get on with your cousin," Mrs. Groves remarked. "He's not so old as you, Master Lionel, and not so tall by half a head! Sir Richard seems to have taken to him wonderfully, I'm told, and—"
She paused abruptly at the sound of approaching wheels. The children darted excitedly out of the lodge, and flung open the heavy iron gates, whilst Mrs. Groves followed at a more leisurely pace, in time to see the doctor's gig draw up and Dick clamber down.
So it was that it fell to Dr. Warren's lot to introduce the children to each other. He was pleased that the Comptons had come to meet their cousin; and drove off quite satisfied that Dick would soon make friends of them.
After a few words with Mrs. Groves, the young folks made their way towards the house. For a short distance they were rather silent. Dick could not think of a subject to talk about; so that it was quite a relief when Lionel began to ask him questions, all of which he answered willingly and with no reserve. The elder boy soon extracted a great deal of information from the younger; amongst other things he learnt how dearly Dick loved his parents, and what a grief it had been to him to be sent away from them.
"Why didn't your mother come with you?" Ruth asked curiously, mindful of the conversation she had heard at the breakfast-table that morning.
"Because she couldn't leave father," Dick replied promptly; "and—and she said it was my duty to come to England alone; so, of course, I did not make more fuss than I could help. I didn't want father to think me a coward. Father's a brave soldier, you know; and mother says I must always remember I'm a soldier's son, and do my duty."
"We don't remember our father," Ruth said regretfully; "he died when Lionel and I were very young."
"Uncle Theophilus told me that," Dick returned, with sympathy in his voice.
"Uncle Theophilus!" Lionel exclaimed with a laugh. "Do you mean Dr. Warren? Uncle Theophilus! What a name!"
"It's a very good name!" Dick retorted, flushing with annoyance. "I don't know why you're laughing!"
"What do you call Miss Warren?" Ruth asked hastily, with a warning glance at her brother. "I've seen her in church; I think she looks very nice."
"She is," Dick replied; "she's awfully good and kind! I call her Aunt Mary Ann!"
"Mary Ann!" Lionel echoed. "Is that her name? Mary Ann! We had a cook called that! Uncle Theophilus and Aunt Mary Ann! Oh, I say, what a joke!"
"I don't know what you mean!" Dick cried indignantly. "I don't see any joke! I think you're very silly!"
Lionel stopped laughing, and looked at Dick with some surprise. He had expected that his cousin would be abashed, not annoyed.
"And you're very rude," Dick continued hotly; "that is, if you're laughing at Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus—perhaps you're not?"
"But I am!" the other boy retorted. "Why shouldn't I, if I please? Look here, youngster, don't you try dictating to me, because that won't do, you know!"
"I don't want to dictate to you, but—"
"You'd better not, or you'll repent it!" Lionel declared aggressively. "If I like to laugh at your Aunt Mary Ann and your Uncle Theophilus, you needn't interfere! Who's Dr. Warren, pray? A mere nobody, and—"
"He's not a mere nobody! You shan't speak of him like that! You shan't!" and Dick clenched his hands and turned pale, whilst his eyes deepened and darkened in colour.
"Mind who you're talking to!" Lionel said angrily.
"Do you think I'm going to hold my tongue to please a small kid like you?"
"Oh, don't make a row!" Ruth interposed quickly. "Please don't quarrel with him, Lionel! What will grandfather say?"
"He'd better not go sneaking to grandfather!" her brother cried. "If he does, I'll give him something he won't easily forget! Now, then," he proceeded, grasping Dick by the shoulder, "you attend to me! What are you shaking for, you little coward."
The younger boy vouchsafed no reply. Every vestige of colour had gone from his face, and he was shaking, but not from fright, as Lionel imagined; he was, in reality, quivering with passion.
"I'll give you something to shake for, if you don't take care," Lionel said scornfully. "You'd better mind your own business for the future; and if I like to joke about your grand relations who live opposite the baker's shop, and—"
"Let me go!" said Dick hoarsely; then, as Lionel only grasped him tighter, with a sudden movement he wrenched himself free, and struck his cousin a swift blow in the face with his clenched fist.
There was a moment's dead silence. Ruth gave a little cry of affright when she saw the blood flowing from her brother's nose; whilst Dick, though still angry, felt alarmed and somewhat guilty. Lionel was glad to accept the loan of the others' pocket-handkerchief; and presently, when his nose had ceased bleeding, he glanced at his cousin rather shamefacedly.
"It was your own fault, Lionel," Ruth reminded him; "it's no good pretending it wasn't! You'd better make it up with him!"
"Yes, let us be friends," Dick said, remembering his grandfather's desire on that point. "I hope I didn't hurt you much! I did not mean to make your nose bleed! I'm awfully sorry—really!"
"All right!" Lionel answered gruffly, "you've apologized, and that's enough. Say no more about it, and I won't laugh at Dr. Warren and his sister again. Ruth, if you sneak—"
"As though I would!" the little girl broke in indignantly. "You know I'm not like that!"
The trio now proceeded more amicably, and by the time the home was reached, Dick was himself again, though he still felt indignant at the manner in which Lionel had spoken of Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus.
SIR RICHARD GIDLEY and his daughter were seated on one of the garden seats in front of the house when the three young folks came in sight. A look of indecision crossed Mrs. Compton's handsome countenance when she saw them, and she glanced at her father nervously, as though wondering how he would expect her to meet Dick; but he was not looking at her—his eyes were fixed on the approaching children.
Dick ran forward to speak to his grandfather, conscious of the proud-looking lady at his side, whilst Ruth and Lionel paused at a little distance, surprised that their cousin evidently felt no fear of Sir Richard.
"Well. Dick," said the old man quite genially, "so you and your cousins have made friends, eh? That's right! Now, I want to introduce you to your aunt. Arabella, this is Richard's boy. He is like your brother, is he not?"
"Yes," Mrs. Compton responded briefly, as she extended her hand to Dick.
He glanced up at her a trifle wistfully. There was something in his look which appealed to the mother's instinct in her heart, and forgetful of the keen old eyes watching her so intently, she put her arms around her nephew, and gave him a lingering kiss. He returned her embrace with great warmth, for he had not expected such a kindly welcome from his first glance at her face.
Sir Richard rose abruptly, and walked a few paces away, leaving aunt and nephew together; whilst Ruth and Lionel conversed in whispers, keeping watch on their grandfather the while to see he did not come upon them unawares.
"So you are Richard's boy," Mrs. Compton said, smiling at Dick; "I am very glad to see you, my dear, and I hope you will spend a lot of time at the Manor House whilst the children and I are here. Why, what a pale-faced little lad you are, and yet your grandfather says you are far better than when you arrived in England!"
"Indeed I am!" Dick assured her earnestly. "Uncle Theophilus has written and told father so; he'll be glad, because I'm going to be a soldier when I'm a man, if I'm strong enough. Feel the muscle in my arm! Uncle Theophilus says it's getting firmer every day!"
Mrs. Compton did as she was requested, laughing the while.
"I suppose Uncle Theophilus is Dr. Warren?" she asked. "I know him." She looked thoughtfully at Dick. "Yes, you are like the Gidleys," she said; "my father is right, I can see the resemblance to Paul Gidley."
"Does grandfather say I am like him?" Dick questioned, looking pleased and surprised. "Oh, I hope I am! I shall tell mother what you say; I'm quite sure she'll be glad!"
Mrs. Compton made no reply, for her attention had been attracted by her father, who was evidently watching her closely. She saw there was a decided look of approval on his face, and guessed he was pleased she had greeted Dick so warmly. Sir Richard now returned to her side, calling to Ruth and Lionel, who approached with apparent reluctance. Mrs. Compton could not but be struck with the difference between their embarrassed manner in their grandfather's presence, and her nephew's frank, fearless behaviour.
"What is that on your collar, Lionel?" said Sir Richard. "Why, it is blood! How did it come there?"
"I'm sure I don't know!" Lionel replied hastily, without the least hesitation.
"Nonsense! You must know! What have you been doing?" Sir Richard cried sharply. "Come, speak out!"
"I haven't been doing anything," Lionel declared in a sulky tone. "If there's blood on my collar I can't help it! I don't know how it came there!"
Dick was simply astounded to hear his cousin lie so glibly. The colour rushed to his face; and his grandfather, happening to glance at him at that moment, was struck by his guilty appearance.
"Perhaps you can throw some light on the matter, Dick?" he said enquiringly. "What has Lionel been doing?"
"It was my fault!" Dick cried distressfully. "I hit him, and made his nose bleed, and I suppose some of the blood got on his collar! It was very wrong of me; I know I ought not to have struck him; but we've made it up now, haven't we, Lionel?"
"Yes," Lionel acknowledged, wishing heartily his cousin had held his tongue.
"What made you lie to me?" demanded Sir Richard furiously, turning upon his elder grandson in a passion. "You know I hate a liar!"
"Oh, grandfather!" cried Dick pleadingly, "I think he told a story because he didn't wish to get me into a row!"
That had not been Lionel's reason, but he held his peace. The actual fact was he had feared to tell the truth lest his grandfather should seek to discover the cause of his quarrel with Dick, when he knew he would be blamed. Mrs. Compton looked from one to the other with a puzzled expression.
"What could you boys have had to fall out about?" she said plaintively, in the tone she usually adopted on the rare occasions when she rebuked her children, "and so early in your acquaintance too!"
"Oh, we shan't fall out again!" Dick told her earnestly. "I—I'm awfully ashamed of myself, I am indeed! Do please forgive me for hitting Lionel! He's not really hurt; but I'm afraid he won't be able to wear his collar again before it has been washed! I hope it was not a clean one!"
"Never mind that," Sir Richard broke in, a grim smile crossing his face. "Your aunt and I won't press you to explain your quarrel, Dick! I daresay the cause of it was not so very serious! Lionel, never tell me a deliberate lie again, even to shield another!"
"I will not, grandfather," Lionel responded in a low, shamed voice, hanging his head.
"Now, you children can run away and amuse yourselves till luncheon. Don't get into mischief, and try to agree."
Sir Richard watched the three young figures thoughtfully as they disappeared from sight around the corner of the house.
"I wonder what they could have quarrelled about, Arabella!" he exclaimed; then, as his daughter shook her head, he gave a short laugh, and added: "Dick has plenty of spirit! He is his father over again! The idea of his striking a boy so much bigger than himself! What do you think of your nephew, eh?"
"He seems a bright, attractive little fellow. I marvel more than ever how his mother could have parted with him!"
"He appears very fond of her; and she has evidently brought him up well."
Mrs. Compton was surprised to hear her father admit so much. She hesitated a moment, then said,—
"I met a gentleman the other day who knew Richard and his wife in India. He says she is a charming woman, and considers Richard a fortunate man. I daresay she has improved since her marriage, but she was always good-looking, was she not?"
"I never spoke to her but once in my life," Sir Richard returned thoughtfully, "and then she appeared merely a shy, pretty school-girl. I was not aware at that time that she would be my daughter-in-law!"
"It was such a pity Richard did not look higher for a wife," Mrs. Compton sighed, for she had been ambitious for her brother; "but, after all, her relations are respectable people. I am sure Dr. Warren is a clever man in his profession, and his sister looks very nice!"
She paused a trifle nervously, for she had never dared to speak a word in favour of her sister-in-law's relations before; but Sir Richard did not turn upon her in anger as she half feared he would; on the contrary, he nodded his head approvingly, and, much to her surprise, suggested that she should call on Miss Warren.
"I think it would be only polite, seeing Dick is living with her and her brother," he said. "As things stand we ought to show them some attention."
"Very well!" Mrs. Compton answered quietly, though she was much amazed at the turn matters were taking.
Meanwhile, Lionel had changed his soiled collar for a clean one, and had repaired to the yard at the back of the house, where he found his sister and cousin watching the grooming of the pair of horses Sir Richard drove in his carriage. Later, they climbed the steep ladder which led to the hay loft, and sat down, each on a bundle of sweet-smelling hay, to talk at their ease.
"It was awfully good of you to take all the blame of our shindy on yourself," Lionel said to Dick, with real gratitude in his tone. "I consider grandfather let us off easily; he seemed in a better temper than he was at breakfast-time!"
"I wish you hadn't told him a lie!" Dick exclaimed, looking quite distressed. "No wonder he was angry!"
"Oh, that's nothing!" Lionel answered airily. "Grandfather's always glad to have something to be angry about! He's an awful temper! It wasn't much of a lie any way!"
"But it's so wicked to tell lies," Dick objected, "and father says a liar is generally a coward. I don't think you look a coward, somehow!"
Lionel took the latter part of his cousin's sentence as a compliment. There was an appearance of gratification on his face as he replied,—
"I'm not a coward; but what's a fellow to do to get himself out of a scrape? I wouldn't tell a lie to injure anyone; I wouldn't be so mean as that!"
"Of course not!" exclaimed Ruth, who always stood by her brother. "You don't know how nasty grandfather is when he's angry, Dick, or you wouldn't think it wrong to tell him a little fib."
"Yes, I should!" Dick said quickly. "It's always wrong to tell a fib—a fib is the same as a lie!"
"I suppose it is," Ruth allowed; "but let's talk of something else!"
"If it hadn't been for you, Dick, we should have gone down to the beach to-day," Lionel said, gladly changing the conversation at his sister's request; "but grandfather wished us to stay at home to see you. It's fine by the sea; there's always something to amuse one, and—"
"Oh, yes!" Dick broke in eagerly. "I love the sea! I'll tell you what happened to me the other day!" and he gave them a graphic account of his morning on the beach when he had had Nero for a companion, and had fallen into the pool.
The others laughed heartily as they tried to picture the sorry figure he must have cut as he walked up the village street in his wet clothes.
"Who told you about the secret passage?" Lionel asked; for Dick had informed them he had been searching for the entrance to it.
"Grandfather. How I should like to find it, shouldn't you?"
"Rather!" Lionel cried, his blue eyes sparkling.
"Rather!" echoed Ruth.
"Oh, pooh!" said her brother, turning upon her scornfully. "What do you know about the secret passage; you are—"
"I know as much about it as you do!" she interrupted indignantly.
Lionel had no answer ready, so he inquired of Dick what Sir Richard had said. It was no more than the elder boy knew already, when all was told.
"I should not be surprised if there were great treasures hidden away in that passage," Lionel remarked seriously. "I would give anything to know! What do you say, Dick, shall we enter into a compact to try and find the secret passage? and if we succeed we shall have every right to share the treasures. Do you agree?"
"Oh, yes!" Dick exclaimed readily, his pale face glowing with excitement. "Oh, what fun! When shall we begin to search?"
"I'll help!" Ruth interposed eagerly.
"You'll do no such thing," her brother told her. "You're a girl, and you can't do anything to help us; you would only be in our way!"
Ruth looked grievously disappointed, for hitherto she had been her brother's sole companion during their summer holidays, and it seemed a little hard to be set aside for a newcomer. She pouted, and her eyes filled with tears. Dick felt so sorry for her that he spoke on her behalf, thereby earning her deep gratitude.
"Don't you think she might help us?" he asked Lionel. "There might be something she could do!"
"Well," was the relenting reply, "we'll see! But mind, Ruth, you must tell no one what we mean to do. Promise!"
"Oh, I promise! I promise!" Ruth cried delightedly.
"And you must do as we tell you," Lionel continued. "You mustn't want to go your own way as you generally do!"
"All right; I won't!" the little girl responded, ready to agree to anything.
"Now, we will all shake hands, and promise faithfully to stand by each other, and to do our very best to find the secret passage."
This was accordingly done with great solemnity. Then the young people put their heads together, and held a long discussion as to where and how the search should commence. They had not decided these points when they heard Susan Morecombe's voice calling to them to come and prepare for luncheon; so they scrambled down the ladder, left the stables, and went into the house by the back entrance.
Nero was stretched on the mat in front of the dining-room door. He gave Dick a warm welcome, much to the surprise of Ruth and Lionel, who were not on particularly cordial terms with him—the truth being that they had played tricks on him the previous summer, and he had too good a memory to forget their teasing ways.
Mrs. Compton was vexed during luncheon to see how her children abstained from conversation when Dick was so ready to talk and answer all her questions. Ruth and Lionel always showed at a disadvantage before their grandfather. Their mother never realised that the fact of her having brought them up to fear him was the cause of their doing so. It surprised her to hear her little nephew expressing his opinions; and she expected every moment that his grandfather would turn upon him with some cutting remark which would wound his feelings; but instead, Sir Richard encouraged the child to talk, and seemed amused with his conversation.
After luncheon the children were again left to their own devices, when they held another consultation as to the first steps to be taken in their search for the secret passage. Lionel suggested that the best plan would be to consult Granfer Cole, and obtain all the information they could from him. He volunteered to call upon the old man, and let Dick hear the result of his interview with him.
So it was arranged, much to the satisfaction of all three, and the great delight of the younger boy.
"Mind, it's a secret," Lionel said impressively. "No one must know what we mean to do!"
"All right!" Dick replied readily, filled with a sense of his own importance.
So the children parted on the best of terms, and Dick returned to No. 8 Fore Street in high spirits. He told his aunt and uncle that he liked his cousins; but he refrained from mentioning the fact that his acquaintance with them had commenced in rather a stormy manner. He did not like to tell Dr. Warren and his sister that Lionel had laughed at their names, and called the former a nobody; neither did he confess that he had lost his temper and hit his cousin, for that would have meant explaining the whole matter.
It was late before Dick fell asleep that night, his mind was so full of the compact he had entered into with Ruth and Lionel to try and find the secret passage. It was the first secret he had ever had to keep; and long after Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus had retired to their respective bedrooms Dick lay awake thinking of ways and means to attain the end he and his cousins had in view, till at length drowsiness overcame him, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
WITHIN the course of a few days Mrs. Compton called at No. 8 Fore Street. Her visit was so entirely unexpected by Miss Warren, that it put that lady into a flutter of excitement. She was in the sitting-room with Dick, who was employed in writing to his mother, when she glanced out of the window and saw Sir Richard Gidley's carriage draw up in front of the house.
"Dick!" she cried, "here's the carriage from the Manor House! Dear me, it's Mrs. Compton! I suppose she wants to see you! Why, she's getting out!"
The little boy ran to the open window. His aunt had just alighted; she smiled and nodded to him, whilst he shouted with a glad note of welcome in his clear voice,—
"I'm coming to open the door to you, Aunt Arabella!"
He darted from the room; and a minute later returned with Mrs. Compton, who held out a hesitating hand to Miss Warren, not being quite certain of the reception she would receive.
Miss Warren was slightly put out that Dick had not shown his aunt into the drawing-room, but she greeted her visitor politely, if not very cordially. She could not forget that this handsome, fashionably-dressed lady had always ignored Dick's mother, so her manner was tinged with reserve. But Mrs. Compton had come with the laudable desire to be friendly; she took the comfortable easy-chair to which her nephew led her, and explained that Lionel, who had gone to the post-office on an errand for his grandfather, wanted his cousin to join him for a walk.
"Oh, may I go, Aunt Mary Ann?" Dick asked.
"Certainly, my dear," Miss Warren answered, "you will have plenty of time to finish your letter this evening. But don't be in such a hurry! What will your aunt think of your manners if you rush off the very minute of her arrival?"
"Oh, let him go!" Mrs. Compton said smiling. "I am sure he is longing to be out-of-doors this beautiful weather, and Lionel wants a companion!"
So Dick went off in search of his cousin, and presently the two boys were seen walking up the village street side by side, in animated conversation.
"What a bright little fellow Dick is," Mrs. Compton remarked, as soon as she and Miss Warren were alone together. "He must keep you and Dr. Warren from being dull!"
"Oh yes! We are so pleased to have him here! And he is getting better and stronger every day! The poor child was very low-spirited when he first arrived; he missed his parents, especially his mother, to whom he is devoted, but he feels quite at home with us now, and is as happy as the day is long. He has been writing to his mother, as you see."
Mrs. Compton glanced at the table where Dick's writing materials were scattered about; her eyes softened as they fell on the sheet of notepaper, covered with writing in a laboured, childish hand, which had been hastily flung aside in the excitement attending her arrival.
"How his mother must miss him!" she exclaimed involuntarily. "I know what I should feel if my children were parted from me! Oh, Miss Warren, I am glad Dick is with you instead of at the Manor House! My father regrets he did not have him there, but I am sure he is better with you!"
Miss Warren flushed with pleasure, and presently, encouraged by her visitor's evident wish to be friendly, she grew chatty and communicative. Mrs. Compton listened with interest to all the details she could learn about her brother and sister-in-law, and expressed the hope that they would return to England the following year.
"It is so sad that my brother and I should know so little of one another now-a-days," she sighed; "it has been a real trouble to me; but you know what Sir Richard is—how hard and unforgiving! However, he seems to have taken a great fancy to Dick, and I hope that in time he will forgive my brother!"
"It must make him very miserable to be so unforgiving," Miss Warren said thoughtfully; "I hope God will show him how wrong it is, before it is too late for him to set things right. It has been a great grief to my niece that she has been the cause of trouble between her husband and his father, and I hope Dick will never learn the truth. He is so deeply attached to his mother; he thinks there is no one equal to her!"
"You brought her up from babyhood, did you not?"
"Yes. Her parents died when she was only a few months old, and she had no one in the world to care for her but Theophilus and me. In my opinion, your brother could have found no better wife, although she brought him no money, and was only a country surgeon's adopted child! There! I've spoken out, and told you what I think, and now my mind will feel more at ease!"
There was a bright gleam in Miss Warren's dark eyes; she held her head high, and her smooth cheeks were flushed rosy red. A brief silence followed her little outburst, during which Mrs. Compton sat with her gaze fastened on the ground; presently she glanced at her companion, and said with a ring of sincerity in her voice,—
"I wish I had known you before, Miss Warren! I like you all the better for speaking out!"
After that the ladies talked without reserve. Before Mrs. Compton left she asked Miss Warren to return her call, but the invitation was firmly though politely declined, and the reason frankly given—Miss Warren would not enter the doors which were shut against her niece, and she desired Sir Richard Gidley might be told so.
Meanwhile, Lionel and Dick were hurrying up the hill towards Granfer Cole's cottage.
"I'm glad you could come," Lionel said cordially; "I thought it would be better if we could go together."
"I hope we shall find Granfer Cole at home! Does Aunt Arabella know where we're going?"
"No. There was no need to tell her, and she didn't ask. Ruth would have been here, but she's in disgrace. All her own fault too, the little silly! Grandfather caught her sliding down the bannisters yesterday, and he was waxy and told her not to do it again, and she promised faithfully she wouldn't! Just as we were starting this afternoon, and only waiting for her, she must needs come sliding down the bannisters at an awful rate, and there was grandfather in the hall looking on! When she saw him she was so frightened that she gave a great yell, and he ordered her to go back and spend the afternoon in her bedroom, for punishment, for having disobeyed him! She cried, but he didn't care; he was in a dreadful temper, and called her a hoyden, and said one of these days she would break her neck! I don't think she will; she's pretty careful!"
"Do you think she forgot she'd promised not to do it again?" Dick enquired, feeling extremely sorry for the little girl's disappointment.
"I don't know, I'm sure. Perhaps she did," Lionel replied, though in his heart he believed to the contrary. "It's rather rough on her," he continued, "for she made up her mind to go with us this afternoon, but we're just as well without her—girls are so fussy and full of chatter!"
They were within sight of Granfer Cole's cottage by this time, and paused, warm and breathless—for they had been walking at a great rate—to look back the way they had come. Before their eyes lay the village of Holton, with a vast stretch of blue sea beyond. An excursion boat laden with passengers was steaming up the channel, not so far from land but that the boys could distinguish movements on board; and a schooner, with sails unfurled to catch the fresh breeze, was making for the nearest port, towed by a pilot-boat; whilst far in the distance, against the horizon, a fleet of trawlers caught the sunlight against their red-brown sails. Around the cliffs seagulls hovered, their wings gleaming like silver, now soaring upwards, now dipping into the unruffled bosom of the ocean.
"Isn't it a grand view from here?" Lionel exclaimed admiringly. "Has there been a storm since you've been in Holton?"
"No," Dick replied. "I came in June, and the weather has been very fine, except for a few wet days—the sea was not rough even then."
"Last year there was a terrible storm whilst we were staying at the Manor House," Lionel told his cousin; "we did not go back to London until the end of September, and a few days before we left the weather was dreadful. The sea dashed against the cliffs in great waves like high walls of water, and you could hear it miles away—a sort of muffled roar. Fortunately the fishermen knew bad weather was coming, so they were all safe at home; but sometimes there are fearful wrecks off this coast, so I've heard grandfather say. He remembers several."
They proceeded up the hill, talking of storms and shipwrecks till they came upon Granfer Cole seated in the porch of his cottage, where he spent most of his days in warm weather. He looked up eagerly at their approach, but did not move until Lionel spoke to him, when he recognised the boy's voice immediately, and rising, invited his visitors to come in; but they declined entering the cottage, saying it was pleasanter outside.
"Do you remember me?" Dick asked, as he and Lionel sat down on one of the benches in the porch, and Granfer Cole reseated himself on the other.
"Surely!" the old man responded, smiling. "You are Captain Gidley's son. Ah, young gentlemen, my ears have to do double duty now my sight's so bad! I can always recognise a voice I've once heard! My hearing is sharper than it ever was! I've much to be thankful for!"
"We're here to consult you upon a very important matter," Lionel said, coming to the point at once. "My cousin and I have made up our minds to find that secret passage you know about."
Granfer Cole chuckled, and wagged his head from side to side as if much amused, but made no reply.
"How would you advise us to begin the search?" Lionel asked anxiously.
"I wouldn't advise you to search at all," the old man answered. "Do you fancy you'll succeed where others have failed? The entrance to the secret passage by the sea-shore was lost years ago. Think how the cliffs have fallen and crumbled away during the last half century only!"
The boys' countenances clouded, and they both looked grievously disappointed.
"There may be valuable treasures hidden in that passage!" Lionel cried regretfully.
"There may be," Granfer Cole allowed, "but I never heard tell of 'em. A few casks of brandy, and bundles of silks, and dress goods which would be rotten by now would be about the extent of what you'd find there, I reckon!"
"Sometimes one hears of jewels and money hidden away in places like that," Lionel said; "we mean to find the secret passage if we possibly can! I am sorry you cannot tell us anything that would assist us in our search. Are you sure your father never hinted to you where the passage was?"
"Quite sure, sir. I mind when I was a little chap hearing him tell tales of the smugglers; but he died when I was only eight years old. My memory of him is faint after so long. He was a cautious man, was my father; and perhaps he had reason to be, for I've often thought he must have had something to do with smuggling himself, he knew so much about it and how it was managed. He certainly used to tell of a secret passage; but he never let on where it was."
"What a pity!" cried Dick. "I wonder why he didn't tell you all about it? It is so very strange that no one should know where it is!"
"They who did know, most of them came to violent deaths," Granfer Cole said, lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper; "there was a fight on the sea-shore one night with the custom-house officers, and the smugglers preferred to fight to the death rather than be taken prisoners. They were desperate men, these smugglers!"
"Did the custom-house officers know about the secret passage?" Lionel inquired.
"They might have known there was such a place, but not where it was!"
After that the conversation veered into another channel. Granfer Cole was a most interesting person to talk to, he knew so much about boating, and fishing, and the wonders of the sea. He entertained his visitors with stories of all the wrecks he remembered; and being fond of recounting the experiences of his youth, he was delighted to find two such attentive listeners. Like most men of his class, accustomed to see God's wonders in the deep, he possessed a firm faith in the great Creator, and was a simple-hearted, pious soul, who had never doubted the wisdom and goodness of Him in whom he trusted. He was fond of assuring people he had much to be thankful for, and was perfectly contented and happy in the peaceful evening of his days.
"What a lot you remember!" Lionel exclaimed, after Granfer Cole had come to the end of a story about the capturing of a whale not a mile from land. "It is marvellous you should have such a memory!"
"I sit here and think of all the people I've known during my long life, and all the wonderful adventures I've had, and the sights I've seen," the old man said, turning his almost sightless eyes upon the boys. "I can picture the sun rising above the sea in the rosy sky as I've watched it many and many a time; and then I think how the grandest sight here on earth is not to be compared to what we shall see in the presence of God!"
There was a great solemnity on the aged face which filled the boys with a sense of awe. It, was Dick who replied, his animated face all aglow as he said,—
"I wonder if you're thinking of a verse in the Bible which Uncle Theophilus said to me the other day? 'Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.' Were you thinking of that?"
"Yes, sir, I was. Thank you for repeating it. I'd 'most forgotten how it went, but I shall mind it now."
There was a little further conversation, then the boys took leave of the old man, and retraced their footsteps down the hill.
"We've done no good by going to see him," Lionel said in disappointed tones; "we have only wasted our time. He knows no more about the secret passage than we do! Still, it was fun hearing him talk, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Dick agreed. "I think he's a splendid old fellow! I'm glad I remembered that verse, because he was so pleased, wasn't he? I must tell Uncle Theophilus!"
"Is Dr. Warren religious?" Lionel asked. "I don't like religious people, they're so dull and melancholy."
"I'm sure Uncle Theophilus isn't," Dick retorted. "He isn't quite so lively as father; but then he's older. You don't know how jolly he is; I expect, if you did, you'd wish you had an uncle like him!"
"Come to the Manor House to-morrow, if you can," Lionel said, as he parted from his cousin outside No. 8 Fore Street; "I've got something to show you—something Ruth and I found yesterday amongst a heap of rubbish in one of the shut-up rooms!"
"What is it?" Dick asked curiously.
But that Lionel declined to tell. He went on his way whistling softly, his hands deep in his trousers' pockets, his cap on the back of his head, leaving uncovered the crop of fair curls which clustered around his forehead. Dick gazed after him as he swung down the street with a care-for-nothing air, and thought what a very nice boy he was. He liked him better than he had done at first, and admired him because he looked so capable of taking care of himself, and was so apparently brave and strong. Then, when his cousin was out of sight, he entered the house to find Aunt Mary Ann in high good-humour, having been most agreeably impressed with her late visitor.
"SO Miss Warren declines to return your call?" Sir Richard Gidley said, turning his frowning gaze upon his daughter, who, engaged upon some fancy-work, was seated opposite to him by the open dining-room window at the Manor House.
It was the afternoon subsequent to the one when Mrs. Compton had paid her visit at No. 8 Fore Street, and Dick was upstairs with his cousins, having arrived just before luncheon.
"Yes, she declined most decidedly," Mrs. Compton responded somewhat nervously.
"Why?" demanded Sir Richard. "You are keeping something back! What reason did she give for refusing to return your call?"
"She said she would not visit at a house, the doors of which were shut against her niece—Dick's mother. Really, I do not see how she could, when one comes to think of it! I am vexed I asked her! She seems such a very nice woman, and I am sure it is most fortunate she and Dr. Warren were willing to make a home for Dick! He was writing to his mother when I arrived yesterday—Miss Warren says he is devoted to her! It is to be hoped, father, he will never learn the cause of the trouble between you and Richard!"
Mrs. Compton had spoken with unusual boldness. Now she paused apprehensively, expecting a burst of passion from her companion, but she was agreeably disappointed. Venturing to glance at him, she saw he was looking decidedly disturbed; he was, in fact, remembering that he had told Dick his son had offended him, and he had never forgiven him. How foolish and thoughtless he must have been to have said it!
A sudden burst of merriment from upstairs was heard at that moment; and Mrs. Compton became uneasy.
"The children are very noisy," she said, rising hastily; "I will go and tell them to be quieter."
"Nonsense!" Sir Richard exclaimed. "Let them be! Pray don't fuss, Arabella!"
Poor Mrs. Compton, who had been only anxious that her father should not be disturbed or irritated, sat down again, and proceeded with her work in silence. The sounds of laughter upstairs continued, Ruth's shrill treble mingling with the boys' deeper voices.
"I wonder what they are doing," said Sir Richard, a slight smile curving his stern lips; "shall we go and see?"
She agreed, though a trifle uneasily; and they accordingly went upstairs together.
The children were at the top of the house, where they had been ransacking the disused rooms. Lionel had shown Dick the "something" he and his sister had found, which proved to be a short old-fashioned gun with a large bore—like a cannon, as Dick said; and now they were in the midst of a most entrancing game of their own invention. Ruth, who had donned a faded yellow satin gown, which she had found amongst a lot of other garments in a big chest, was being hauled, shrieking and laughing, around the room by her brother, whilst Dick, armed with the short gun, was pretending to fire upon the little girl's assailant.
A sudden hush fell upon the young people as soon as they realised there was an audience to their game. Lionel dropped his hold of Ruth, allowing her to fall in a panting heap upon the floor, whilst Dick, still clasping his weapon, ran towards his aunt and grandfather.
"Oh!" he cried excitedly, "we're having such fun! Ruth's a grand lady going to a party, and I'm her coachman! Lionel's a highwayman—he's stopped our carriage, and demanded all Ruth's money and jewels! He's going to lock her up in a dungeon, and I'm trying to shoot him with this gun! Oh, Aunt Arabella! Oh, grandfather! You can't think what a jolly game it is, and we've made it up ourselves!"
"I'm afraid our coming has put a stop to it," Sir Richard remarked, his eyes resting kindly on Dick's countenance, which was flushed rosy red. He glanced from him to his other grandson, who was keeping in the background, and wondered why the elder boy always appeared struck dumb in his presence. "Why don't you go on with your game?" he continued; "it seems vastly exciting! Ruth could not have shrieked louder if she had actually been in the grasp of a highwayman!"
The little girl tried to rise, but her flowing skirts impeded her. It was Sir Richard who lifted her from the ground and set her on her feet. She thanked him in a low tone, looking shyly up into his face, but reading nothing except amusement there, she ventured a timid smile.
"I'm afraid I was making a dreadful noise, grandfather," she said apologetically. "Did you hear me screaming downstairs? I hope I did not disturb you!"
"No, no!" he replied with unusual good-humour. "Your mother and I thought we should like to see what you children were doing! What have you there, Dick? Why it's my grandfather's old blunderbuss!"
Dick passed the weapon to Sir Richard, who examined it carefully, saying that he had not seen it for years.
"We found it under a heap of rubbish," Ruth explained. "Lionel polished the barrel and made it look nice and bright!"
"What a clumsy gun it is," Mrs. Compton remarked. "I suppose the children can do no harm with it, father?" she asked anxiously, with a woman's nervousness of fire-arms.
"Oh, no!" he replied reassuringly. "There can be no mistake as to whether it's loaded or not. It is a muzzle-loader—there were no such things as breech-loaders when this gun was made." And he proceeded to point out to the boys—Lionel having drawn near too, full of interest—how the weapon worked, explaining how it ought to be loaded, and the powder and shot rammed down with the ramrod, and fired by means of a flint-lock—the spark of fire being produced by the flint striking on the steel pan.
"What a time it must take to load it!" Dick exclaimed. "In father's guns you have only to put in the cartridges!"
"Ah, this old blunderbuss is very different to modern guns," Sir Richard said, "but it served the purpose for which it was required; it was used by my grandfather as a protection against highwaymen when he went a journey by coach, and even if he paid a friendly visit to a neighbour in his own carriage, the blunderbuss went too! Those good old days, as people call them, had their disadvantages! It's all very well to play being captured by a highwayman, Ruth, but how would you like it in reality?"
"Not at all," she responded frankly. "Lionel is rough enough, but I expect a highwayman would be rougher. I believe my arms are quite bruised; still, I don't mind. It was a splendid game!"
"How hot you are, my dear!" Mrs. Compton exclaimed; "your cheeks are perfectly crimson! No wonder you are so warm, with that heavy satin gown over all your other clothing. Where did you get it?"
Ruth indicated the old chest in a corner of the room. The children had turned out all its contents, which now lay in a big heap on the floor. Some of the garments were moth-eaten—all were faded and time-worn. Mrs. Compton began to replace them in the chest, whilst Ruth helped her.
Sir Richard continued to converse with the boys. He told them several anecdotes of the days when the blunderbuss had been in use, and made himself quite entertaining.
Seated on a rickety chair with the old gun across his knees, he waxed eloquent over a story of how his grandfather had been waylaid by highwaymen when journeying from Exeter, and how he, with the assistance of his coachman and postillion, had put the robbers to flight, and had reached home in safety.
"Oh, please go on!" Dick cried, when the old man paused. "We want to hear more! Were the highwaymen ever caught?"
"One was, I believe, and gibbetted. He was the last man in this neighbourhood who suffered death in that way. I remember seeing the gibbet myself, when I was a boy; it stood at the cross-roads at the top of the village, but was blown down during a December storm, and converted into fire-wood."
"What was it like?" Dick inquired.
"It was a sort of gallows with a wooden arm projecting from the top. Notorious evil-doers used to be suspended from that arm by chains, in sight of passers-by, and allowed to hang there until only their bones remained. It was a horrible mode of punishing crime."
Dick shuddered. He thought he would never pass the cross-roads again without picturing the gibbet with its awful burden.
"I am glad there are no gibbets now-a-days," he said. "I think the people living about here must have been very wicked, grandfather, so many of them seem to have been smugglers and highwaymen!"
"I do not think they were worse here than in other places," Sir Richard replied seriously. "People ought to live better lives at the present day than they did in those times, for they have not the excuse of ignorance for their misdeeds; they are taught to know right from wrong, and even the very poorest are made to learn to read and write. I suppose no one would be misguided enough to argue now that smuggling and highway robbery are not crimes."
"I am very, very glad I did not live years ago," Dick said reflectively, at which remark Lionel laughed, and Sir Richard looked amused.
When their elders left them, as they did a short while later, the children did not continue their interrupted game, but began to remark on their grandfather's change of mood.
"Whatever makes grandfather in such a good temper to-day!" Ruth exclaimed. She had divested herself of her borrowed finery, and sat on a table swinging her legs as she talked to the boys. "Why can't he always be like that, I wonder! Fancy his coming up here with mother!"
"Yes," chimed in Lionel; "and the idea of his telling us that story about the highwaymen! I never knew him so agreeable before. I say, Dick, I should like to have a shot with this old blunderbuss—shouldn't you? I believe I could load it all right."
"Yes; so could I."
"We might have a pot at the rabbits with it," Lionel continued. "Only mother would be scared if she heard us. She's so silly about guns. We should have to take it a good way from the house."
"But we haven't any powder or shot," Ruth reminded him.
"I can get some," her brother told her. "I'll go into Holton and find out where I can buy some; or perhaps I can get around Groves—he's so good-natured—and induce him to give me a little. I don't suppose grandfather keeps any, now he's given up shooting; anyway, I shouldn't ask him. I've heard mother say he used to be a very good shot," he informed Dick.
"So's father," Dick declared. "Once he shot a tiger—a man-eater, too! He's supposed to be one of the best shots in the regiment—every one says so!"
"It's a pity he isn't here to kill some of the rabbits," Lionel said seriously. "Groves says they're a regular nuisance. The farmers grumble terribly about them. Grandfather's an awfully queer sort, I think. His property is simply over-run with game. He won't let the shooting; he won't shoot himself; and he won't let any one else kill anything. Pheasants are as plentiful as blackbirds in the woods. I am sure they must get poached, and I don't wonder. Groves says there are heaps of game everywhere."
"I know there are heaps of rabbits," Ruth said. "I counted more than a dozen from my bedroom window, yesterday."
"Rabbits are not game—they are vermin," her brother informed her. He never lost an opportunity of correcting her if he possibly could. "You don't believe it? You thought only rats and mice were vermin? Oh, you little ignoramus! If you won't take my word for it, go and ask mother or grandfather!"
"I will," Ruth cried, utterly unbelieving, and she rushed from the room.
"Now she's gone, we can talk in peace," Lionel said to his cousin confidentially. "I mean to fire off that old blunderbuss as soon as ever I get an opportunity."
"Wouldn't it be rather dangerous?" asked Dick, who knew enough about guns to make him cautious with them. "We ought to know how much powder and shot to use—grandfather didn't say. I wonder if the blunderbuss kicks?"
"I never heard of a gun kicking!" Lionel exclaimed, for he really knew much less about fire-arms than the younger boy.
Dick explained what he meant. Lionel had not known before that some guns recoiled after being fired. He regretted having admitted his ignorance, but he said confidently,—
"Oh, we'll be careful! If it kicks we can tie it to a tree and fire it off like a cannon; we could make a fuse of powder reaching to the lock, set fire to it, and we should have time to go a good distance away before the gun went off."
"So we should," Dick agreed. "But don't you think we'd better ask grandfather to lend us the blunderbuss?"
"No, no; certainly not," Lionel replied hastily. "If we do that, Ruth is sure to hear what we're up to, and she'll come bothering and wanting to interfere!'
"But she heard us talking about it!"
"She'll think no more of that. I know what she is. No, we won't tell any one about it. You leave the matter to me. I'll get the shot and gunpowder somehow, and we'll have a fine lark together."
Dick was delighted with the idea, and readily fell in with his cousin's plans, agreeing willingly to keep silence upon the subject. It was arranged that the elder boy was to let the younger know when he had obtained the ammunition, after which they would slip away to the woods together without Ruth's being the wiser. Dick did not realise that it was in reality Mrs. Compton and Sir Richard Lionel was most anxious to keep in the dark; and though he thought it a little hard on Ruth that she should be denied the pleasure of hearing the gun go off, he came to the conclusion that of course her brother must know best. As Lionel said, what did girls know about guns. She would be far better out of the way.
When Ruth returned, she looked crestfallen, having discovered that her brother had not been trying to sell her a packet, but had told her the truth. She eyed the boys suspiciously, and demanded to be informed what they had been talking about during her absence.
"I believe you're up to some mischief," she declared; "do tell me what it is. You may as well. Is it anything to do with the secret passage?"
"Oh, no!" Dick replied quickly.
"Then what is it? Some nonsense or other! I see you don't mean to tell me! You're nasty, disagreeable boys, both of you!" And she flounced out of the room again, slamming the door after her.
"She's huffy now," Lionel remarked tranquilly. "She's awfully quick-tempered, but she never stops in a passion long."
Dick made no reply; he had an uneasy sense that they were not treating Ruth quite fairly. It certainly appeared unjust that she should not be in their confidence simply because she was a girl. He had seen the hurt tears in Ruth's blue eyes; but Lionel's influence over him was daily becoming stronger, and he allowed him to have his way.