Freddy speaks out.
"FREDDY, did you notice what was on the bed? But of course you did.
I saw that by your face! The idea of our being the ones to find
father's old coat, and after such a long time too! I longed to ask
the Lamberts how they got it, but that would never have done.
We must hurry home and tell father at once!" and Claude quickened
his footsteps almost to a run as he spoke.
The two boys were in the main street of the town once more, having
cut short their visit to Bobby Lambert after the surprising
discovery they had made. Both were greatly excited.
"There's no desperate hurry," Freddy said, in a voice which he could
scarcely keep from trembling. "Yes, of course I saw it was uncle's
coat; but how could it have got there?"
"Oh, I don't know! Perhaps those people are thieves, and we ought
not to have gone to their house; but they seemed very respectable,
didn't they?"
"Oh, yes! I don't think they are thieves! The boy looked really ill;
and I am sure the little girl seemed very distressed because they
had to pawn their blankets."
"Perhaps she was only pretending—father says appearances are often
deceitful."
"But there were tears in her eyes; didn't you see them?"
"Yes, I did," Claude admitted. "Anyway, when we have told father
we have discovered where his coat is, he will know what to do. Isn't
it strange that you and I should be the ones to find it?"
"Very strange. What do you think Uncle Jo will do about it?"
"Tell the police, and—"
"Oh, I hope not!" Freddy interposed in dismay. "I am sure
the Lamberts are honest people, I am quite, quite sure!"
"Nonsense!" Claude exclaimed impatiently. "How can you tell that
when you know no more about them than I do?"
Arrived at home, the two boys went into the dining-room, but finding
no one there, returned to the hall. Claude began shouting, "Mother,
mother!" at the top of his voice.
"Hush, Master Claude!" cried Jane, the housemaid, as she came
downstairs. "The mistress is in the drawing-room with visitors, and
she wishes you and Master Freddy to—"
She stopped abruptly as Freddy, uttering an exclamation of mingled
astonishment and joy, rushed past her, having caught the sound of
a well-known voice. Claude followed his cousin at a more leisurely
pace, and when he entered the drawing-room, found him clinging
around the neck of a tall gentleman, whilst a very pretty lady
was seated on the sofa between his mother and Poppy.
"Uncle Frederick!" gasped Claude, for the tall gentleman was
no other than Mr. Collins, and of course the pretty lady was
his wife. "Why, mother, did you know they were coming?"
"No, my dear," Mrs. Dennis answered with a happy laugh. "I have had
a most delightful surprise."
By that time Freddy was greeting his step-mother, who explained that
she and her husband meant to stay at B— for a short while before
returning to Marldon Court for Christmas.
"Are you going to take me home with you?" Freddy inquired eagerly.
"Yes, certainly," Mrs. Collins answered with a smile.
"I am glad," Freddy whispered confidentially. "And yet for some
reasons I shall be sorry to go; they've all been very kind to me
here, and I like town life better than I did at first. But I
am longing to see all my pets again, and it will be nice to be
with father—and you."
It was not very long before Edwin returned, followed shortly by his
father, and in the general excitement caused by Mr. and Mrs.
Collins' presence, Claude forgot for the time all about the doctor's
old overcoat. Freddy did not forget it, however, and every minute
he was expecting Claude to mention it.
Mr. Collins had engaged rooms for his wife and himself at an hotel,
but they readily consented to spend the evening at the doctor's
house when they saw how much every one wished them to remain.
The Dennis children were charmed with their new aunt, and Poppy
no longer wondered that Freddy liked and admired her.
"Freddy has grown," Mr. Collins remarked, regarding his son
with affectionate eyes. "So you like going to school, my boy?"
"Yes, father—now; I hated it at first," was the frank response.
"I shall be sorry to leave."
"Perhaps you will not have to leave altogether; I may be able
to persuade your aunt to let you live here during term-time, and
return to Marldon Court for the holidays. That would be pleasanter
for you than going to boarding-school, which is the only
alternative, as there is no school for you to attend at Marldon."
"It would be much nicer," Freddy agreed.
Three months previously he would have strongly objected to this
plan, and have declared that he saw no reason why he should be sent
to school at all, but the society of those of his own age had caused
him to alter many of his old opinions. "Perhaps aunt won't have—"
he was proceeding, when he paused abruptly, his eyes fixed
on Claude, who had drawn the doctor aside and was whispering to him.
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Collins, noticing the sudden
expression of alarm on his son's countenance.
"Nothing," murmured Freddy; "only I wonder what Uncle Jo will do."
"About what?" questioned Mr. Collins in bewilderment.
"About his old overcoat. It was lost, and this afternoon Claude and
I found it—that is, we came across it. Oh, uncle!" and as he spoke
Freddy left his father's side, and rushed across the room to the
doctor, whom he caught by the arm— "you won't send the police
to take those poor people to prison, will you? I can't think how
they got your overcoat, but I am sure they didn't steal it!"
"They will have to account for it being in their possession,"
Dr. Dennis said sternly.
He then explained to Mr. Collins about the mysterious disappearance
of his old coat, and with it his pocket-book which had contained the
two five-pound notes. "And now it appears that Freddy and Claude saw
the coat covering the bed of a sick child this afternoon. I shall,
of course, inform the police at once," he said in conclusion.
"That is the only thing you can do," Mr. Collins replied, much
interested; "but you may depend the five-pound notes have been
spent."
"I am sure the Lamberts did not spend them!" Freddy cried in deep
distress. It seemed horrible to him that innocent folks should be
suspected and perhaps accused of theft. "They are most respectable
people, aren't they, Claude? Why don't you speak up for them? And
they are so poor. They had to pawn their blankets! Think of that,
father; this cold weather, too! Oh, dear father, ask Uncle Jo not
to have them sent to prison! I am certain the Lamberts are honest!"
"If they are they will prove themselves so," Mr. Collins remarked
gravely; "don't distress yourself unnecessarily."
Freddy looked around in great agitation. He realised that if he
continued to hold his tongue there might be trouble in store for the
poor family that had had so much to contend against already, and
Christmas was coming when everyone ought to be so happy, he thought.
What sort of Christmas would he himself have with this guilty secret
on his conscience? He felt he could not speak out; but whilst he was
in hesitation, he met Edwin's eyes fixed upon him sadly and
anxiously, and overcome with the dread of what his continued silence
might lead to, and a sense of real remorse, he startled every one
in the room by bursting into tears.
"Freddy, my dear boy, what is it?" asked his father, putting his arm
tenderly around the little boy's heaving shoulders; "depend upon it
your uncle will do nothing that is not right and just."
"Oh, I cannot bear it any longer, I must tell!" sobbed Freddy. "Oh,
I don't know what you will all think of me, but—but—I—I gave away
Uncle Jo's old overcoat!"
"You gave away my old overcoat!" the doctor exclaimed in utter
amazement.
"Yes, Uncle Jo. I—I gave it to a poor old man who—who was selling
bootlaces in the street," Freddy confessed in a low, shamed tone;
"his clothes were ragged, and it was so—so cold. I went to the door
and spoke to him, and gave him twopence—it was that Saturday
afternoon I was at home alone—and he begged for some old clothes.
I knew you meant to give away your old overcoat, but—you weren't
at home, so I couldn't speak to you about it, and—I thought you
wouldn't mind-I gave it to him and he went away."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Dr. Dennis asked reproachfully.
"I meant to tell you, Uncle Jo, indeed I did; but when I heard about
your pocket-book with the money in it, I was too frightened, and
afterwards I was too big a coward. I know I've behaved very badly.
I've felt dreadful about it, and this afternoon when I saw your old
coat on Bobby Lambert's bed I was nearly scared to death."
There was a brief silence, during which Freddy ventured to glance
at the amazed countenances of his relations; his eyes fell as he met
his father's sorrowful gaze, and he hung his head in bitter shame.
How disappointed his father must be in him! His tears flowed afresh
when Mr. Collins turned to his brother-in-law and said gravely,
"I will not attempt to offer any excuse for Freddy's conduct; he has
acted with a lack of moral courage and a deceptiveness which grieves
and surprises me. After what has occurred, I fear you and my sister
will be unwilling to have him beneath your roof another term;
however, we will speak of that later on."
"Do you think the old man you gave the overcoat to is the father
of the little girl and the little sick boy?" Poppy asked, suddenly
addressing her cousin.
"No, he was very old," Freddy answered; "he might be their
grandfather though," he added, looking startled as the idea
presented itself to his mind.
"I will find out all about the Lamberts to-morrow," the doctor said.
"Dry your eyes, Freddy. You must not be a wet blanket to-night."
"Oh, Uncle Jo, can you ever forgive me?" Freddy asked earnestly,
immeasurably touched by the kindness of his uncle's look and tone.
"I do forgive you, my boy; but I wish you had trusted me. I should
not have blamed you much for having given away my coat, though
of course you had no right to meddle with it. Your confession
has come upon us all as a great surprise—I wish you had spoken out
before your father's return; but I am glad you have had the courage
to make it at last. Say no more on the subject now."
At that moment Jane came to the door to say that tea was ready
in the dining-room, and they all went downstairs. It was some while
before Freddy regained his equanimity; but by-and-by, as the
conversation turned upon the various places Mr. and Mrs. Collins
had visited during their trip on the Continent, he grew interested,
and forgot to wonder what the others were thinking of him and if
they would ever trust him again, and gave himself up to the
enjoyment of the present hour.