The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 4

"You may, my dear. And now, come, try and throw aside all those fanciful notions about going abroad and meeting with adventures. There is no place like home, Don, and you will find out some day that is true."

"But I have no home till I make one," said the lad gloomily.

"You have an excellent home here, Don, the gift of one who has kindly taken the place toward you of your father. There, I will listen to no more from you, for this is all foolish fighting of your worse against your better self."

There was a quiet dignity in his mother's words which awed Don for the moment, but the gentle embrace given the next minute seemed to undo that which the firmness had achieved, and that night the cloud over the lad's life seemed darker than ever.

"She takes uncle's side and thinks he is everything," he said gloomily, as he went to bed. "She means right, but she is wrong. Oh, how I wish I could go right away somewhere and begin life all over again."

Then he lay down to sleep, but slumber did not come, so he went on thinking of many things, to fall into a state of unconsciousness at last, from which he awoke to the fact that it was day--a very eventful day for him, but he did not awaken to the fact that he was very blind.

CHAPTER THREE.

AN AWKWARD GUINEA.

It was a busy day at the yard, for a part of the lading of a sugar ship was being stored away in Uncle Josiah's warehouses; but from the very commencement matters seemed to go wrong, and the state of affairs about ten o'clock was pretty ably expressed by Jem Wimble, who came up to Don as he was busy with pencil and book, keeping account of the deliveries, and said in a loud voice,--

"What did your uncle have for breakfast, Mas' Don?"

"Coffee--ham--I hardly know, Jem."

"Ho! Thought p'r'aps it had been cayenne pepper."

"Nonsense!"

"Ah, you may say that, but see how he is going it. 'Tarn't my fault that the dock men work so badly, and 'tarn't my fault that Mike isn't here, and--"

"Don't stand talking to Wimble, Lindon," said a voice sharply, and Uncle Josiah came up to the pair. "No, don't go away, Wimble. Did Bannock say he should stay away to-day?"

"Not to me, uncle."

"Nor to me, sir."

"It's very strange, just as we are so busy too. He has not drawn any money."

"P'r'aps press-gang's got him, sir," suggested Jem.

"Humph! Hardly likely!" said Uncle Josiah; and he went on and entered the office, to come out at the end of a few minutes and beckon to Don.

"Lindon," he said, as the lad joined him, "I left nine guineas and a half in the little mahogany bowl in my desk yesterday. Whom have you paid?"

"Paid? No one, sir."

"But eight guineas are gone--missing."

"Eight guineas? Missing, sir?"

"Yes, do you know anything about them?"

"No, sir. I--that is--yes, I remember now: I picked up a guinea on the floor, and meant to give it to you. Here it is: I forgot all about it."

Don took a piece of gold from his flap waistcoat pocket, and handed it to his uncle, who looked at him so curiously that the boy grew confused.

"Picked this up on the floor, Lindon?" said Uncle Josiah.

"Yes, sir. It had rolled down by my desk."

"It is very strange," said Uncle Josiah, thoughtfully. "Well, that leaves seven missing. You had better look round and see if you can find them."

Don felt uncomfortable, he hardly knew why; but it seemed to him that his uncle looked at him doubtingly, and this brought a feeling of hot indignation into the boy's brain.

He turned quickly, however, entered the office, and with his uncle looking on, searched all over the floor.

"Well?"

"There's nothing here, sir. Of course not," cried Don eagerly; "Mrs Wimble sweeps up every morning, and if there had been she would have found it."

Uncle Josiah lifted off his c.o.c.ked hat, and put it on again wrong way first.

"This is a very unpleasant affair, Lindon," he said. "I can afford to lose seven guineas, or seven hundred if it came to that, but I can't afford to lose confidence in those whom I employ."

Don felt hot and cold as his uncle walked to the door and called Jem; and as he waited he looked at the map of an estate in the West Indies, all fly-specked and yellow, then at the portraits of three merchant vessels in full sail, all as yellow and fly-specked as the map, and showing the peculiarity emphasised by the ingenious artist, of their sails blown out one way and their house flags another.

"Surely uncle can't suspect me," he said to himself; and then the thought came again--"surely uncle can't suspect me."

"Come in here, Wimble," said Uncle Josiah, very sternly.

Jem took off his hat, and followed him into the office.

"Some money is missing from my desk, Wimble. Have you seen it?"

"Me, sir?" said Jem, stooping down and peering in all directions under the desks. "No, sir, I harn't seen it. Let's see, I don't think I've been here only when I locked up."

"By some mischance I left my desk unlocked when I went out in a hurry yesterday. Lindon here has found one piece on the floor."

"P'r'aps tothers is there, too," said Jem eagerly.

"No; we have looked. Call your wife. Perhaps she may have found them when sweeping."

"Not she, sir," said Jem. "If she had she'd ha' told me. 'Sides, how could they ha' got on the floor?"

"That remains to be proved, Wimble," said Uncle Josiah, drily. "Call your wife."

Jem went to the door, rubbing his ear, and as it happened, seeing his wife outside the cottage, telegraphed to her to come by working one arm about furiously.

Little Mrs Wimble came up in a hurry, looking scared.