Part 54 (1/2)

”Not a bit, sir. The pony's as sure-footed as a mule. He won't slip.”

No more was said, and in this fas.h.i.+on we walked home, with Bob in front on the pony and me by his side, for I ran on to join him, my father and Doctor Chowne coming behind.

Old Sam was outside as we came in sight of the cottage, and the old fellow threw his hat in the air as he caught sight of us, and then came to meet us at a trot, after disappearing for a moment in the house.

”I said you'd come back all right. I know'd it when they telled me about the boat,” he cried to me as he came up.

”Boat! What about the boat?” I said.

”One o' the fishermen picked her up, and as soon as I heered as her oars and hitcher were all right, I said there was no accident. The rope had loosed and she'd drifted away.”

”But how did you know we had gone off in the boat, Sam?” I said eagerly.

”How did I know?” he said. ”Think when you didn't come back a man was going to bed and forget you all?”

”Well, I hardly thought that, Sam,” I said.

”Because I didn't, and I went right over to the mine and asked, and you weren't there, and then I went to Uggleston's and heerd you'd gone out in the boat, and that's how I know'd, Mast' Sep, sir.”

”Here, Sam, run back and tell Kicksey to hurry on the breakfast,” said my father.

”Hurry on the braxfa.s.s, captain,” said Sam grinning, ”why, I told Kicksey to put the ham in the pan as soon as I see you a-coming.”

The result was that we were soon all seated at a capital breakfast and ready to forget the troubles of the night, only that every now and then the recollection of the smuggling scene came in like a cloud, and I could not help seeing that my father was a good deal troubled in his mind.

Nothing, however, was said, and soon after breakfast the doctor went off with Bob Chowne.

As soon as we were alone my father began to walk up and down the room in a very anxious manner, and once or twice he turned towards me as if about to speak, but he checked himself and went on with his walk.

At last the silence became so irksome that I took upon myself to speak first.

”Are you going over to the mine, father?” I said.

”Yes, my boy,” he replied. ”But you had better go and lie down for an hour or two.”

”Oh, no, father,” I said. ”I'm not tired. Let me go with you.”

He nodded, and then stood thoughtful, and tapping the ground with his foot.

All at once he seemed to have made up his mind.

”Look here, Sep,” he said; ”you are growing a great fellow now. I've been helping you all these years; now you must help me.”

”Tell me how, father, and I will,” I said eagerly.

”I know you will, my boy,” he replied, ”and I'm going to treat you now as I would a counsellor. This is a very unfortunate business, my boy.”

”What, our seeing the smugglers last night?”

He nodded.