CHAPTER XII.

It was a lovely day, real harvest weather, when Sir Everard Duncombe and

his two little boys took their way to the corn-field to see the new

machine at work.

Sir Everard was going up to town that evening, but it was for the last

time; and then, to the children's delight, he had promised to come down

for good, and had settled that the Harvest Home should take place early

in the ensuing week.

The corn-field presented a gay appearance when they reached it. The new

machine, drawn by two fine horses, and driven by the bailiff, was

careering along the corn, with the reapers all running by the side. Down

fell the golden grain on all sides, and eager hands collected and bound

it up.

With a shout of joy, Humphrey was among them, hindering every one and

alarming his father by continually getting in the way of the machine and

the horses.

Of course he was not long content with so subordinate a part in the

proceedings; and came to beg his father to let him mount up on the

little seat by the bailiff's side.

Sir Everard assisted him up, and the machine went off again, followed by

the reapers.

By and by, Sir Everard looked at his watch, and found it was time to be

making his way to the station. The children were so happy, he had not

the heart to take them away.

"They are quite safe," he reflected, "with so many people about; and I

will send Virginie to them, as I pass the house."

Humphrey was out of sight, so Sir Everard told Miles (who was playing

with the "little girl at the lodge") to look out for Virginie, and to

say "good-bye" for him to Humphrey.

Little Miles held up his face to be kissed--a thin face it was

still--and said: "You'll come back soon, Fardie, and not go away any

more?"

"Very soon, my darling; and then not leave you again till next year!

We'll have great fun, and you must be a good little man, and not get ill

any more."

"I promise, Fardie."

Sir Everard smiled rather sadly, kissed the child over and over again,

and then walked away.

When he got to the gate, he turned round to have one more look at the

gay scene. Miles was still standing where he had left him, gazing after

his father, and kissing his hand. His was the prominent figure in the

foreground, surrounded by the golden corn. Away behind him stretched the

lovely landscape, and in the background was the machine returning to its

starting point followed by the reapers. Humphrey, sitting by the

bailiff, had now got the reins in his own hands, and was cheering on the

horses as he came.

So Sir Everard left them.

Excitement cannot last for ever, and after a time, Humphrey got tired of

driving, and got down to play with his little brother. They followed the

machine once or twice, picking up the corn, but it was hot work, and

they went to rest under the hedge.

"It is very hot, even here," said Humphrey, taking off his hat, and

fanning himself. "I think we'll go and sit under the tree in the next

field, where we sat the Sunday Uncle Charlie was here. Come along."

They climbed over the gate, and made for the tree, where they sat down

on the grass.

"How jolly Uncle Charlie's stories were," sighed Humphrey; "how I wish

we could hear them all over again. It's a great pity father ever told me

not to climb the bough that sticks out. It would have been the very

thing to crawl along, like the man in that story. Father says its rotten

and unsafe. I think he _must_ make a mistake; it looks as strong as

possible!"

He sighed again, and there was a long pause.

Presently he resumed. "I don't see why we shouldn't go and _look_. It

would be so cool by the pond."

"Oh! Humphie, _please_ don't. We shall lose our way, and Virginie will

be so angry."

"But I know the way quite well from here, Miles. It was only because we

started from Dyson's cottage that I lost it before."

"But, Humphie, if we get wet again! I _promised_ Fardie not to get ill."

"The rain made you wet, Miles, not the pond; and it's not going to rain

to-day. Look what a blue sky!"

The two little brothers gazed upwards. It was clear overhead, but there

was a suspicious bank of clouds in the distance.

"Those clouds won't come down till night," Humphrey observed. "Come

along. It's not very far."

"Better not, Humphie."

"I'm only going to look, Miles. What are you afraid of?"

"Don't know, Humphie," answered the little fellow, with a tiny shake in

his voice; "but _please_ don't let us go!"

"Well, you needn't come if you don't like. I'll go alone--I shan't be

long."

But Miles didn't like being left in the field by himself; so with a

little sigh, he got up, and put his hand in his brother's.

"I'll come," he said, resignedly.

"That's right," said Humphrey; "there's nothing to be afraid of--_is_

there?"

"No," said the child; but his face was troubled, and his voice still

shook a little.

So over the grass the two little brothers went, hand in hand, till in an

adjoining field they saw the waters of the pond gleaming like silver in

the summer sunshine. Side by side they stood on its brink.

"We're only going to _look_, you know," said Humphrey.

They were the first words he had spoken for some time, and they came so

suddenly that Miles started as they fell on the still air. They seemed

to arouse the inhabitants of that secluded spot, for a bird flew out of

the tree, and soared away with a scared chirrup, which fell with a

melancholy sound on the children's ears; and a water-rat bounded from

under a lily-leaf, and plunged with a dull splash into another part of

the pond.

Innumerable insects skimmed across the surface of the water, and one or

two bees droned idly, as they flew from one water lily to another.

The branch of the tree that stretched over the pond dipped its topmost

leaves into the water with a sleepy sound; as the breeze swayed it

gently backwards and forwards, the water-lilies danced lightly with the

movement of the water; and there was over the whole place a sense of

repose and an isolation which infected the children with its dreaminess,

keeping even Humphrey silent, and making little Miles feel sad.

"Let's go, Humphie."

"Not yet," answered Humphrey, recovering from his fit of abstraction,

and moving towards the tree: "I want to look at the branch. Why, it's

not rotten a bit!" he exclaimed, as he examined it. "I do believe it

would hold us quite well!"

He clasped his arms round the trunk of the tree, and propelled himself

upwards, where he was soon lost to view in the thick foliage.

Miles gave a little sigh; he could not shake off the melancholy that

oppressed him, and he was longing to get away from the place.

Presently Humphrey's ringing laugh was heard, and Miles, looking up, saw

him crawling along the branch which stretched out over the water. His

face was flushed, and his eyes sparkling with excitement, and he was

utterly regardless of the shivering and shaking of the branch under his

weight. When he had got out a certain distance he returned, and throwing

his arms once more round the upper part of the trunk, he raised himself

to his feet and stood upright, triumphant.

"There!" he exclaimed--"I've done it. Who says it's dangerous now? It's

as safe as safe can be. Come up, Miles. You can't think how jolly it

is!"

Miles drew a long breath. "Must I really _really_ come?"

"Why not? you see how easily I did it. Give me your hand, and I'll help

you up."

Bright and beautiful was the aspect of the elder boy, as he stood above,

with his graceful figure clearly defined against the green foliage, one

arm thrown carelessly round a bough, and the other outstretched to his

little brother; and very lovely the expression of wistful uncertainty on

the face of the younger one, as he stood below, with his eyes upraised

so timidly to his brother's face, and his hands nervously clasped

together.

Involuntarily he shrank back a little, and there was a pause.

He looked all around the secluded spot, as if to find help, as if to

discover a loophole whereby he might escape, even at the eleventh hour.

But the insects skimming from side to side of the pond, the water-lilies

dancing gently on the surface, were still the only animate things to be

seen, and no sound was to be heard save the dipping of the branch into

the water, and the splash of the active water-rat. They were powerless

to help him, and he resigned himself to Humphrey's will.

"I know I shall be _kilt_, but I'll come," he said; and he held out his

shaking little hand.

Humphrey grasped it tightly, and got him up by degrees to the same level

as himself. Then carefully he dropped down on his hands and knees and

helped Miles to do the same.

Slowly they both began to move, and gradually they crawled along the

branch that stretched over the water! Clinging tightly with arms and

legs, and listening to Humphrey's encouraging voice, little Miles

settled himself on the branch in fancied security.

Humphrey got close up to him behind, and put his arms round him.

"Hurrah" he shouted; "here we both are!"

They had been so engrossed that they had not noticed how the weather had

clouded over. The bank of clouds they had noticed was nearly over their

heads, the air was becoming thick and oppressive, far in the distance

was heard the growl of approaching thunder, and some big drops of rain

fell.

Humphrey remembered, with a start, his father's injunctions about Miles,

and the ill effects of their last adventure. "We must go home," he

exclaimed; and, forgetting their perilous position, he moved so

suddenly, that he nearly sent his little brother off the branch.

Instinctively he reached out his hand to save him, and Miles nearly

overbalanced himself in his attempt to cling to it.

Their combined movements were too much for the decaying wood, already

rocking beneath their weight. It swayed--it shivered--it creaked ...

and then with a crash it broke from its parent bark!--and boys and

branch were precipitated into the water below.

_PART II._

Misunderstood · 第 12 / 17 章