Part 38 (1/2)

Jane was much relieved by hearing her cousin talk in this manner, and answered, 'Yes, and a dismal coming home it will be; it is too late to let them know.'

Mr. Saunders now entered, and gave a very favourable account of the patient, saying that even the scars would probably disappear in a few weeks. His gig had come from Raynham, and he offered to set Mr.

Devereux down at the parsonage, a proposal which the latter was very glad to accept. Emily and Jane had leisure, when they were gone, to inquire into the manner of the accident. Phyllis answered that Maurice said that her banging the door had made the powder go off.

Jane then asked where Maurice was, and Phyllis reporting that he was in his own room, she repaired thither, and knocked twice without receiving an answer. On her call, however, he opened the door; she saw that he had been in tears, and hastened to tell him Mr.

Saunders's opinion. He fastened the door again as soon as she had entered. 'If I could have thought it!' sighed he. 'Fool that I was, not to lock the door!'

'Then you were not there? Phyllis says that she did it by banging the door. Is not that nonsense?'

'Not at all. Did I not read to you in the Year Book of Facts about the patent signal rockets, which explode with the least vibration, even when a carriage goes by? Now, mine was on the same principle.

I was making an experiment on the ingredients; I did not expect to succeed the first time, and so I took no precautions. Well!

Pyrotechnics are a dangerous science! Next time I study them it shall be at the workshop at the Old Court.'

Maurice was sincerely sorry for the consequence of his disobedience, and would have been much to be pitied had it not been for his secret satisfaction in the success of his art. He called his sister into the schoolroom to explain how it happened. The room was a dismal sight, blackened with smoke, and flooded with water, the table and part of the floor charred, a ma.s.s of burnt paper in the midst, and a stifling smell of fire. A pane of gla.s.s was shattered, and Maurice ran down to the lawn to see if he could find anything there to account for it. The next moment he returned, the powder-horn in his hand. 'See, Jenny, how fortunate that this was driven through the window with the force of the explosion. The whole place might have been blown to atoms with such a quant.i.ty as this.'

'Then what was it that blew up?' asked Jane.

'What I had put out for my rocket, about two ounces. If this half- pound had gone there is no saying what might have happened.'

'Now, Maurice,' said Jane, 'I must go back to Ada, and will you run down to the parsonage with a parcel, directed to Robert, that you will find in the hall?'

This was a device to occupy Maurice, who, as Jane saw, was so restless and unhappy that she did not like to leave him, much as she was wanted elsewhere. He went, but afraid to see his cousin, only left the parcel at the door. As he was going back he heard a shout, and looking round saw Lord Rotherwood mounted on Cedric, his most spirited horse, galloping up the lane. 'Maurice!' cried he, 'what is all this? they say the New Court is blown up, and you and half the girls killed, but I hope one part is as true as the other.'

'n.o.body is hurt but Ada,' said Maurice, 'but her face is a good deal burnt.'

'Eh? then she won't be fit for the 30th, poor child! tell me how it was, make haste. I heard it from Mr. Burnet as I came down to dinner. We have a dozen people at dinner. I told him not to mention it to my mother, and rode off to hear the truth. Make haste, half the people were come when I set off.'

The horse's caperings so discomposed Maurice that he could scarcely collect his wits enough to answer: 'Some signal rocket on a new principle--detonating powder, composed of oxymuriate--Oh!

Rotherwood, take care!'

'Speak sense, and go on.'

'Then Phyllis came in, banged the door, and the vibration caused the explosion,' said Maurice, scared into finis.h.i.+ng promptly.

'Eh! banging the door? You had better not tell that story at school.'

'But, Rotherwood, the deton--Oh! that horse--you will be off!'

'Not half so dangerous as patent rockets. Is Emily satisfied with such stuff?'

'Don't you know that fulminating silver--'

'What does Robert Devereux say?'

'Really, Rotherwood, I could show you--'