Part 29 (2/2)

”Uncle,” I cried pa.s.sionately, for we were alone now, ”I can't tell you how ashamed I am. It's disgraceful. I'm not fit to be trusted. I can never forgive myself, but I did try so very very hard.”

”Try, my boy!” he said taking my hand; ”why, of course, you did. I haven't blamed you.”

”No, but I blame myself,” I cried.

”Nonsense, my boy! Let that rest.”

”But if I had kept awake I should have detected the scoundrel.”

”No, you would not, Cob, because if you had been awake he would not have come; your being asleep was his opportunity.”

”But I ought not, being on sentry, to have gone to sleep.”

”But, my dear Cob, people who are drugged cannot help going to sleep.”

”Drugged!”

”To be sure. Didn't you say that you drank a little water and afterwards grew sleepy?”

”But I did not know it was the water.”

”Here, let me look at your bottle and gla.s.s.”

I took him into the office and showed him the empty receptacles and the two patches on the floor.

”Clumsily done, Cob,” he said after looking at and smelling them. ”This was done to keep anyone suspicious from examining the water. Yes, Cob, you were drugged.”

”Oh, Uncle Bob,” I cried excitedly, ”I hope I was!”

”I don't see why you need be so hopeful, but it is very evident that you were. There, don't worry yourself about it, my boy. You always do your duty and we've plenty to think of without that. We shall spoil two breakfasts at home.”

”But, uncle,” I cried, clinging to his arm, ”do you really think I may believe that my sleepiness came from being drugged?”

”Yes, yes, yes,” he cried half angrily. ”Now are you satisfied? Come and let's have a look at the dog.”

I felt quite guilty at having forgotten poor Piter so long, and descending with my uncle we were soon kneeling by the kennel.

He had not stirred since I put him in, but lay snoring heavily, and no amount of shaking seemed to have the least effect.

”The poor brute has had a strong dose, Cob,” said Uncle Bob, ”and if we don't do something he will never wake again.”

”Oh, uncle!” I cried, for his words sent a pang through me. I did not know how much I had grown to like the faithful piece of ugliness till my uncle had spoken as he did.

”Yes, the wretches have almost done for him, and I'm glad of it.”

”Glad!” I cried as I lifted poor Piter's head in my hand and stroked it.

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