"I would not stop over these, my dears," said Vine, as they sat at
breakfast, which was hardly tasted, "but if I neglect them they will
die."
He had a glass globe on the table, and from time to time he went on
feeding with scraps of mussel the beautiful specimens of actiniae
attached to a fragment of rock.
"We'll all go directly and see if we can be of any use. I'm glad
Knatchbull called as he went by."
"But what news!" said Louise sadly. "It seems so terrible. Only
yesterday evening so well, and now--"
She finished her remark with a sob.
"It is very terrible," said her father; "but I hope we shall soon hear
that the villains are caught."
Harry sat holding the handle of his teacup firmly, and gazing straight
before him.
"You'll go up to the office, of course, my boy?" said Vine.
"Eh? Go up to the office?" cried Harry, starting.
"Yes, as if nothing had happened. Do all you can to assist Crampton."
"Yes, father."
"He was very quiet and reserved when I went in at seven; quite snappish,
I might say. But he was too much occupied and troubled, I suppose, to
be very courteous to such an old idler as I am. Ah!" he continued, as a
figure passed the window, "here's Uncle Luke."
A cold chill had run through Harry at the mention of Crampton--a chill
of horror lest he should suspect anything; and now, at the announcement
of his uncle's approach, he felt a flush run up to his temples, and as
if the room had suddenly become hot.
"Morning," said Uncle Luke, entering without ceremony, a rush basket in
one hand, his strapped-together rod in the other. "Breakfast? Late for
breakfast, isn't it?"
"No, Luke, no; our usual time," said his brother mildly.
"You will sit down and have some, uncle?"
"_No_, Louie, no," he replied, nodding his head and looking a little
less hard at her. "I've had some bread and skim milk, and I'm just off
to catch my dinner. The idiot know?"
"My dear Luke!" said his brother mildly, as Uncle Luke made a gesture
upward towards Aunt Marguerite's room; "why will you strive to increase
the breach between you and our sister?"
"Well, she tells every one that I'm mad. Why shouldn't I call her an
idiot? But nice goings on, these. Wonder you're all alive."
"Then you have heard?"
"Heard? Of course. If I hadn't I could have read it in your faces.
Look here, sir," he cried, turning sharply on his nephew, "where were
you last night?"
Harry clutched the table-cloth that hung into his lap.
"I? Last night?" he faltered. "Yes; didn't I speak plainly? Where
were you last night? Why weren't you down at Van Heldre's, behaving
like a man, and fighting for your master along with your henchman?"
"Uncle, dear, don't be so unreasonable," said Louise, leaning back and
looking up in the old man's face--for he had thrown his basket and rod
on a chair, and gone behind her to stand stroking her cheek--"Harry was
at home with Mr Pradelle."
"Pradelle, eh?" said the old man sharply. "Not up?"
"Mr Pradelle has gone," said Louise.
"Gone, eh?" said Uncle Luke sharply.
"Yes," said his brother. "Mr Pradelle behaved very nicely. He left
this note for me."
"Note, eh? Bank-note--"
Harry winced and set his teeth.
"No, no, Luke. Nonsense!"
"Nonsense? I mean to pay for his board and lodging: all the time he has
been here."
"Absurd, Luke!" said his brother, taking up a liberal meal for a
sea-anemone on the end of a thin glass rod. "He said that under the
circumstances he felt that he should be an encumbrance to us, and
therefore he had gone by the earliest train."
"Like the sneak he is, eh, Harry?"
The young man met his uncle's eyes for the moment, and then dropped his
own.
"You'll kill those things with kindness, George. Any one would think
you were fattening them for market. So Master Pradelle has gone, eh?
Don't cry, Louie; perhaps we can coax him back."
He chuckled, and patted her cheek.
"Uncle, dear, don't talk like that. We are in such trouble."
"About Van Heldre, that boy's master. Yes, of course. Very sad for
Mrs Van and little Madelaine. Leslie was down there as soon as one of
the miners brought up the news, trying to comfort them."
Harry's teeth gritted slightly, but he relapsed into his former
semi-cataleptic state, as if forced to listen, and unable to move.
"I like Leslie," said Vine sadly.
"So do I. At least, I don't dislike him so much as I do some folks.
Now if he had been there, he'd have behaved better than you did, Master
Harry."
"Uncle, dear, don't be so hard on poor Harry."
"Poor Harry! Good job he is poor. What's the good of being rich for
thieves to break through and steal?"
"Ah! what indeed!" said his brother sadly.
"Look at Van Heldre, knocked on the head and going to die."
"Uncle!"
"Well, I dare say he will, and be at rest. Knocked on the head, and
robbed of five hundred pounds. My money, every penny."
"Yours, Luke?" said his brother, pointing at him with the glass rod.
"Thanks, no, George; give it to the sea-anemone. I don't like raw
winkle."
"But you said that money was yours?"
"_Yes_; a deposit; all in new crisp Bank of England notes, Harry.
Taking care of it for me till I got a fresh investment."
"You surprise me, Luke."
"Always did. Surprised you more if Margaret had had five hundred pounds
to invest, eh?"
"Then the loss will fall upon you, uncle," said Louise sympathetically,
as she took the old man's hand.
"Yes, my dear. But better have the loss fall upon me than Crampton's
heavy ebony ruler, eh, Harry?"
The young man looked once more in the searching malicious eyes, and
nodded.
"Bad job though, Louie. I'd left poor Harry that money in my will."
"Oh, uncle!" cried Louise, holding his hand to her cheek.
"Yes; but not a penny for you, pussy. There, it don't matter. I shan't
miss the money. If I run short, George, you'll give me a crust, same as
you do Margaret?"
"My dear Luke, I've told you a hundred times, I should be glad if you
would give up that--that--"
"Dog kennel?" sneered the old cynic. "That hut on the cliff, and come
and share my home."
"Yes, two hundred times, I'll swear," said Uncle Luke. "You always were
weak, George. One idiot's enough for you to keep, and very little does
for me. There's my larder," he continued, pointing toward the sea; "and
as to Harry here, he won't miss the money. He's going to be the Count
des Vignes, and take Aunt Marguerite over to Auvergne, to live in his
grand chateau. Five hundred pound's nothing to him."
The perspiration stood on Harry's brow, cold and damp, and he sat
enduring all this torture. One moment he felt that his uncle suspected
him, the next that it was impossible. At times a fierce sensation of
rage bubbled up in his breast, and he felt as if he would have liked to
strangle the keen-eyed old man; but directly after he felt that this was
his punishment called down by his weakness and folly, and that he must
bear it.
"Going, Harry?" said his father, as the young man rose.
"Yes; it is time I went on to the office."
"Good boy. Punctuality's the soul of business," said Uncle Luke. "Pity
we have no corporation here. You might rise to be mayor. Here, I don't
think I shall go fishing to-day. I'll stop, and go with you two, to see
old Van. Louie, dear, go and tell your aunt I'm here. She might like
to come down and have a snarl."
"Uncle, dear," said Louise, rising and kissing him, "you can't deceive
me."
She went out after Harry.
"Not a pair, George," said Uncle Luke, grimly. "Louie's worth five
hundred of the boy."
"He'd drive me mad, Lou, he'd drive me mad," cried Harry, tearing his
hand from his sister's grasp, and hurrying away; but only to run back
repentant and kiss her fondly before going.
Volume 2, Chapter V.