Chapter 2
"Capital sandwiches, Pickle," continued the uncle, eating away with the most intense enjoyment. "One doesn't want any other pickle with these.
What does the old proverb say--Hunger's sweet sauce. Hullo! what are you getting up for?"
"Oh, I am going on eating, uncle," replied the boy. "I was only going to walk to the end and see how far the soldiers had gone."
"Hang the soldiers, sir!" cried the elder irascibly. "I wish they'd keep in their barracks instead of coming hunting their prisoners all over this beautiful countryside. Sit down and go on eating."
The boy resumed his place, and began making half-moons in the edge of his sandwich and trying to munch hard; but somehow his appet.i.te was gone, and before he was half through the second sandwich he watched his opportunity, slipped it into his pocket, and as his uncle turned round to look at him he leaned forward and helped himself to a third from the wallet.
"Ah, that's better! Eat away, boy. We have got a long walk back, and you will have plenty of appet.i.te for a good high tea. Hang the prisoners as well as the soldiers. If I had known that this great cage full of Bony's French frogs was up here I don't believe I should have come--that is, unless I thought that Nap himself was a prisoner here too, when I might have been tempted to come and have a grin at the wild beast in his cage. Eh, what? What did you do that for?"
He looked curiously at his nephew, who, after a glance across the pool, had involuntarily stretched out one hand to grip his elder's arm.
"Do you hear me, sir?" he cried sharply. "Why did you pinch my arm like that?"
The boy, whose face had looked rather white the moment before, flushed scarlet, and stammered out something confused and strange.
"Why, hullo, boy!" cried his uncle sharply, and he leaned forward in turn and caught the lad by the wrist. "Why, what's the matter with you?
Haven't been overdoing it in the sun, have you? Here, take my cup and have a gla.s.s of water."
"No, no, uncle; I am quite right. There's nothing the matter with me.
It's--it's--it's--"
"It's what?" said Uncle Paul sharply, as he gazed full in the boy's eyes and held tightly by his wrist. "Well, it's what?"
"Perhaps I am a bit tired, uncle. I have been working very hard, and I turned faint and hungry a little while ago."
"Humph!" grunted Uncle Paul. "Then do
"That's better," he continued, a few minutes later. "Now eat another sandwich. No nonsense, sir! Do as I tell you!"
The boy sighed and helped himself to another of the double slices and their contents, and for the next few minutes no word was spoken, the pair sitting opposite to one another and munching or ruminating steadily away, the younger feeling as if every mouthful of which he partook would choke him.
"Hah!" said Uncle Paul, at last; "it is a drawback to this beautiful place. The colours of the heath are glorious, and the views from up here are grand. I got some good specimens too, ready for our microscopic work to-night; and that was a nice trout you caught. How many did you get, boy?"
"Only one, uncle," said the boy vacantly.
"What!"
"I didn't see the other, uncle."
Uncle Paul drew a deep breath and fixed the boy with his eyes, as he said quietly--
"I asked you how many trout you got, Pickle."
"Oh, about fifty, uncle. Creel's half full."
"Ah! Then we will have some for high tea to-night, and some for breakfast in the morning, and give our landlady the rest. Nice woman that; full of stories about the prisoners, and Bony and his wretched sc.u.m. Ugh! The very name of the rascal raises my bile, and--There, I think I had better take you home and give you a dose."
"Yes, let's go on back now, uncle," said the boy eagerly, "but indeed, indeed I don't want a dose."
"Humph! Then pray why did you grip hold of my arm again like that, and stare across yonder over my shoulder as if you could see a raven hiding in one of the holes?"
"Oh no, uncle," cried the boy, with a forced laugh. "I couldn't see anything."
"Ha, ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Uncle Paul. "Now, look here, Pickle; you and I have always had a sort of tacit agreement that we'd play fair together, and that there should be a mutual confidence."
"Yes, uncle, of course," cried the boy, whose face was burning.
"Very well, then, you are breaking truce. You are not playing the game, sir."
"Uncle!"
"Pickle! Now then, sir, out with it. You have seen those French prisoners."
"Uncle!"
"Yes, sir. Why did you pinch my arm--twice? Now then, honour!"
"I--I--You were talking about Bonaparte."
"Well, what of that?"
"I was afraid he'd hear you, uncle."
"What!" cried the other, and his mouth opened wide. "Bony! Here?"
"No, uncle, of course not, but one of the young prisoners. He was escaping."
"And you--you have turned traitor to your King, and been hiding a prisoner of war from his guard! Why, you young scoundrel! You lied to that sergeant, and said you hadn't seen them."
"I didn't, uncle!" cried the boy hotly. "It was you."
"Eh? What?" roared the elder. "You dare to! Eh?--Ah--so I did! But then I didn't know."
"No, uncle, and if you had seen and heard the poor lad as I did, I am sure you wouldn't have betrayed him."
"Betray! It isn't betraying, sir, to give up a prisoner of war."
"I felt as if it would be, uncle, under such circ.u.mstances," said Rodd, who began noting that his uncle had lowered his voice, and that his angriest words had been uttered in a whisper.
"Look here, my boy," he said now quite softly, "I knew that there was something up, or you would have been wolfing more than your share of those sandwiches. I saw you keep squinting at that hole over yonder.
So you have hid him away there?"
"No, uncle," said Rodd; "I did nothing, but just as the soldiers were coming up, and he'd been begging and praying me to save him, I just said that that would be a good place to hide."
"Humph!" grunted Uncle Paul. "It was very wrong, my boy--very wrong; but look here, Pickle, is the poor fellow badly wounded?"
"No, uncle; only exhausted. He looked just like that hunted deer we saw the other day."