Part 24 (2/2)

His eyes gleamed. 'Cecily,' he said, 'tell me the worst--the army are getting in a funk?'

'No,' she cried; and then she resolved to sacrifice their reputation for their safety. 'At least, they haven't said anything; but I'm sure they'd feel more comfortable in the drawing-room. Can't you order them to stay and guard us? You're General.'

'And I am to face the foe alone?' he cried. 'Well, I am older than them'

(I must decline to be responsible for the grammar of the characters of this story). 'I have lived my life--I shall be the less missed.... Let it be as you say.'

All this was strictly according to the books, and he enjoyed himself immensely.

'Thank you, dear, dear Clarence. I'd no idea you were so n.o.ble and brave. Try not to let those Indians. .h.i.t you.'

'I cannot answer for the future,' he said; 'but since you wish it I will do my best.'

After all there was some good in girls. Here was one who said exactly the right things, without needing any prompting whatever.

Cecily hunted up Jack and Guy, who were poking about in the house.

'You're not to guard the stockade,' she announced, with ill-concealed triumph.

'Oh, aren't we, though?' said Guy; 'who says so? Not mother!'

'No--Clarence; he said I was to tell you to go on duty in the drawing-room.'

'What bos.h.!.+' said Guy. 'As if any Indians would come there! I don't care what Clarence says, I shall go in the stockade!'

'So shall I! 'said Jack. 'Now let's get that piece of matting, and go down sharp--the evening star's out already.'

Poor Cecily was in despair; what was to be done when they were so obstinate as this?

'I know where there's some beautiful matting,' she said.

'Where? Tell us, quick!'

'Come with me, and I'll show you.' She led the way along a corridor to the wing where the billiard-room was. 'Wait till I see if it's there still,' she said, and went into the billiard-room and looked around.

'Yes, it _is_ there,' she told them as she came out.

'I don't see it, Cecily; where?' they cried from within.

Cecily shut the door softly, and turned the key (which she had managed to abstract on entering) in the outer lock.

'It's on the floor,' she cried through the keyhole; 'I didn't tell a story--and don't be angry, boys, dear, it's all for your good!'

Then, without waiting to hear their indignant outcry, she scudded along the corridor and down the staircase, with the sounds of m.u.f.fled shouts and kicks growing fainter behind her.

'I don't mind so much now,' she thought; 'they'll be awfully angry when they come out--but the Indians will have gone by that time!'

Clarence had already retreated to his stronghold when she entered the drawing-room.

<script>