"Will you tell me why you went down the garden to join that man?"
I looked at poor Ike, and felt that if I spoke it would be to get him
discharged, so I preferred to remain silent, and said not a word.
"Will you speak, sir?" cried Sir Francis, beating the table with his
fist.
"I can't tell you, Sir Francis."
"You mean you won't, sir?"
"Yes, Sir Francis."
"Why not tell the whole truth, Grant?" said Mr Solomon, reproachfully.
"Because I can't, sir," I replied sadly.
"Be silent, Brownsmith," cried Sir Francis fiercely.
"He's too good a mate to tell," said Ike stoutly. "Here, I may as well
make a clean breast of it, and here it is. I'm an old soldier, sir,
and--well, theer, it got hold of me at dinner-time. 'Stead of having
anything to eat I had a lot to drink, having had some salt herrin' for
breakfast, and I suppose I took too much."
"Herring, my man?"
"No, your worship, beer; and I went to sleep down among the bushes.
There, that's the honest truth, Mr Brownsmith's brother. Fact as
fact."
"I believe you, Ike," said Mr Solomon. "He's a very honest workman,
Sir Francis."
"Thank ye; I call that handsome, I do," said Ike.
"Stop! this is getting very irregular," cried Sir Francis. "Now, Grant,
once more. Did you not go down the garden thinking you would get some
of those pears?"
"No, Sir Francis."
"To meet that man, and let him take them away?"
"No, Sir Francis."
"Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you did not go down to join that
man?"
"I did go down to join him, Sir Francis," I replied. "I saw him asleep
and tipsy in among the black currants and I left him there, and took
this key to-night to wake him up and let him out by the gate in the
wall."
"Why not through the coach-yard?"
"Because I was afraid he would meet Mr Solomon Brownsmith, and get into
disgrace for drinking."
"Thankye, Mars Grant, thankye kindly," said Ike.
"Silence!"
_Plop_!
"A nice tale?" said Sir Francis. "We are getting to the bottom of a
pretty state of things."
Just then I saw Courtenay look at Philip as if he were uneasy. Then I
glanced at Sir Francis and saw him gnawing at his moustache.
"Lookye here, sir," said Ike sturdily. "Is it likely as we two would
take the fruit? Why, we're always amongst it, and think no more of it
than if it was so much stones and dirt. We ain't thieves."
"Look here," said Sir Francis, suddenly taking a tack in another
direction, "you own that you beat my son--my stepson," he added
correctively, "in that way?"
"Yes, Sir Francis," I said, "I didn't know who he was in the dark."
"You couldn't see him?"
"Only just, Sir Francis; and I hit him as hard as I could."
"And you, my man, do you own that you struck my other stepson as hard as
you could in the chest?"
"No!" cried Ike fiercely; and to the surprise of all he threw off his
jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve, displaying a great red-brown mass
of bone and muscle, and a mighty fist. "Lookye here, your worship. See
there. Why, if I'd hit that boy with that there fist as hard as ever I
could, there wouldn't be no boy now, only a coroner's inquess. Bah! I
wonder at you, Sir Francis! There's none of my marks on him, only where
I gripped his arms. Take off your jacket, youngster, and show your pa."
"How dare you!" cried Philip indignantly.
"Take off your jacket, sir!" roared Sir Francis, and trembling and
flushing, Philip did as he was told, and at a second bidding rolled up
his sleeves to show the marks of Ike's fingers plainly enough.
Ike said nothing now, but uttered a low grunt.
"He did hit me," cried Philip excitedly.
"No; I hit you," I cried, "when I rushed at you first. I followed you
after I'd heard you scramble over the wall."
"Oh!" cried Philip with an indignant look.
"You heard them scramble over the wall?" said Sir Francis sharply.
"Yes, Sir Francis. I think it was by the big keeping-pear that is
trained horizontally--that large old tree, the last in the row."
Sir Francis sat back in his chair for a few moments in silence; and
Courtenay said to his brother in a whisper, but loud enough for everyone
to hear:
"Did you ever hear anyone go on like that!"
Sir Francis took no notice, but slowly rose from his seat, crossed the
room, opened the French window that looked out upon the lawn, and then
said:
"Hand me a candle, Brownsmith."
The candle was placed in his hands, and he walked with it right out on
to the lawn and then held it above his head.
Then, walking back into the room, he took up another candlestick.
"Let everyone stay as he is till I come back."
"Do you mean us to stay here, papa--with these people?" said Courtenay
haughtily.
Sir Francis stopped short and looked at him sternly without speaking,
making the boy blench. Then he turned away without a word, and followed
by Mr Solomon bearing a lighted candle, which hardly flickered in the
still autumn evening, he went on down the garden.
"Haw--haw--haw!" laughed Ike as soon as we were alone. "You're a pair
o' nice uns--you are! But you're ketched this time," he added.
"How dare you speak to us, sir!" cried Courtenay indignantly. "Hold
your tongue, sir!"
"No use to hold it now," said Ike laughing. "I say, don't you feel
warm?"
"Don't take any notice of the fellow, Court," cried Phil; "and as for
pauper--"
"You leave him to me," said Courtenay with a vindictive look. "I'll
make him remember telling his lies of me--yes, and of you too. He shall
remember to-night as long as he lives, unless he asks our pardon, as
soon as Sir Francis comes back and owns that it was he who was taking
the pears."
I turned away from them and spoke to Ike, who was asking me about my
hurts.
"Oh! they're nothing," I said--"only a few scratches and bruises. I
don't mind them."
The two boys were whispering eagerly together, and I heard Philip say:
"Well, ask him; he'd do anything for money."
"Look here," said Courtenay.
I believe he was going to offer to bribe us; but just then there was the
sound of voices in the garden and Sir Francis appeared directly after,
candle in hand, closely followed by Mr Solomon, and both of them
looking very serious, though somehow it did not have the slightest
effect on me, for I was watching the faces of Courtenay and Philip.
"Shut that window, Brownsmith," said Sir Francis, as he set down his
candle and went back to his chair behind the table.
Mr Solomon shut the window, and then came forward and set down his
candle in turn.
"Now," said Sir Francis, "we can finish this business, I think. You
say, Grant, that you heard someone climb over the wall by the big
trained pear-tree?"
"I heard two people come over, sir, and one of them fell down, and, I
think, broke a small tree or bush."
"Yes," said Sir Francis, "a bush is broken, and someone has climbed over
by that big pear-tree."
"I digged that bit along that wall only yesterday," said Ike.
"Be silent, sir," cried Sir Francis; "stop. Come forward; set a candle
down on the floor, Brownsmith."
It was done.
"You, Isaac, hold up one of your feet--there, by the candle. No, no,
man; I want to see the sole."
Ike held up a foot as if he were a horse about to be shod, and growled
out:
"Fifteen and six, master, and warranted water-tights."
"That will do, my man," said Sir Francis, frowning severely as if to
hide a smile; and Ike put down his great boot and went softly back to
his place.
"Now you, Grant," said Sir Francis.
I walked boldly to the candle and held up my heavily-nailed garden
boots, so that Sir Francis could see the soles.
"That will do, my lad," he said. "Now you, Courtenay, and you, Philip."
They came forward half-puzzled, but I saw clearly enough Sir Francis'
reasons, Ike's remark about the fresh digging having given me the clue.
"That will do," said Sir Francis; and as the boys passed me to go back
to their places I heard Philip utter a sigh of relief.
"What time did you hear these people climb over the wall, Grant?" said
Sir Francis.
"I can't tell exactly, Sir Francis," I replied. "I think it must have
been about eight o'clock."
"What time is it now, Courtenay?" said Sir Francis. The lad clapped his
hand to his pocket, but his watch was not there.
"I've left it in the bed-room," he said hastily; and he turned to leave
the library, but stopped as if turned to stone as he heard Sir Francis
thunder out:
"You left it hanging on the Easter Beurre pear-tree, sir, when you
climbed down with your brother--on one of the short spurs, before you
both left your foot-marks all over the newly-dug bed. Courtenay
Dalton--Philip Dalton, if you were my own sons I should feel that a
terrible stain had fallen upon my name."
The boys stood staring at him, looking yellow, and almost ghastly.
"And as if that proof were not enough, Courtenay, Dalton; when you fell
and broke that currant bush--"
"It was Phil who fell," cried the boy with a vicious snarl.
"The truth for the first time," said Sir Francis. Then bitterly: "And I
thought you were both gentlemen! Leave the room."
"It was Phil who proposed it all, papa," cried Courtenay appealingly.
"Ah, you sneak!" cried Philip. "I didn't, sir. I was as bad as he was,
I suppose, and I thought it good fun, but I shouldn't have told all
those lies if he hadn't made me. There, they were all lies! Now you
can punish me if you like."
"Leave the room!" said Sir Francis again; and he stood pointing to the
door as the brothers went out, looking miserably crestfallen.
Then the door closed, and the silence was broken by a sharp cry, a
scuffle, the sound of blows, and a fall, accompanied by the smashing of
some vessel on the stone floor.
Sir Francis strode out into the hall, and there was a hubbub of voices,
and I heard Philip cry passionately:
"Yes; I did hit him. He began on me, and I'll do it again--a coward!"
Then there was a low murmur for a few minutes, and Sir Francis came back
into the library and stood by the table, with the light shining on his
great silver moustache; and I thought what a fine, handsome, fierce old
fellow he looked as he stood frowning there for quite a minute without
speaking. Then, turning to Mr Solomon, he said quickly:
"I beg your pardon, Brownsmith. I was excited and irritable to-night,
and said what I am sorry for now."
"Then don't say any more, Sir Francis," replied Mr Solomon quietly.
"I've been your servant--"
"Faithful servant, Brownsmith."
"Well, Sir Francis, `faithful servant,'" said Mr Solomon smiling,
"these twenty years, and you don't suppose I'm going to heed a word or
two like that."
"Thank you, Brownsmith," said Sir Francis, and he turned to Ike and
spoke sharply once more.
"What regiment were you in, sir?"
"Eighth Hoozoars, Captain," said Ike, drawing himself up and standing at
attention.
"Colonel," whispered Mr Solomon.
"All right!" growled Ike.
"Well, then, Isaac Barnes, speaking as one old soldier to another, I
said words to you to-night for which I am heartily sorry. I beg your
pardon."
"God bless you, Colonel! If you talk to me like that arterward, you may
call me what you like."
"Eh?" cried Sir Francis sharply; "then I will. How dare you then, you
scoundrel, go and disgrace yourself; you, an ex-British soldier--a man
who has worn the king's uniform--disgrace yourself by getting drunk?
Shame on you, man, shame!"
"Go on, Colonel. Give it to me," growled Ike. "I desarve it."
"No," said Sir Francis, smiling; "not another word; but don't let it
occur again."
Ike drew his right hand across one eye, and the left over the other, and
gave each a flip as if to shake off a tear, as he growled something
about "never no more."
I hardly heard him, though, for I was trembling with agitation as I saw
Sir Francis turn to me, and I knew that my turn had come.
"Grant, my lad," he said quietly; "I can't tell you how hurt and sorry I
felt to-night when I believed you to be mixed up with that contemptible
bit of filching. There is an abundance of fruit grown here, and I
should never grudge you sharing in that which you help to produce. I
was the more sorry because I have been watching your progress, and I was
more than satisfied: I beg your pardon too, for all that I have said.
Those boys shall beg it too."
He held out his hand, and I caught it eagerly in mine as I said, in
choking tones.
"My father was an officer and a gentleman, sir, and to be called a thief
was very hard to bear."
"It was, my lad; it was," he said, shaking my hand warmly. "There,
there, I'll talk to you another time."
I drew back, and we were leaving the room, I last, when, obeying an
impulse, I ran back.
"Well, my lad?" he said kindly.
"I beg your pardon, Sir Francis; but you said that they should beg my
pardon."
"Yes," he said hotly; "and they shall."
"If you please, Sir Francis," I said, "I would rather they did not."
"Why, sir?"
"I think they have been humbled enough."
"By their own conduct?" said Sir Francis. "Yes, you are right. I will
not mention it again."