The Vast Abyss Part 32

"Well," he said softly, "it's a rum 'un. If I didn't feel quite c.o.c.k-sure as it was you, Master Tom, that I did. Then it warn't you, arter all! Then who was it? that's what I want to know."

"That's what we all want to know, David," said Uncle Richard, as he laid his hand now upon his nephew's shoulder, the firm pressure seeming to send a thrill of strength and determination through the boy's heart.

"One thing is very plain--it could not have broken itself."

"But don't you think, Master Tom, as it might have gone down when you leaned over the wrapper?"

"Impossible," said Uncle Richard quickly. "The gla.s.s was far too heavy, as we well know, eh, Tom? Here, let's look out outside."

He led the way through the open door, and round to the window beneath which the speculum had lain upon the bench, and examined the lately made flower-bed, in which various creepers had been planted to run up the wall.

"There's no need to be in doubt," said Uncle Richard, pointing; and Tom uttered an excited cry, for there, deeply-marked beneath the window were the prints of heavy-nailed boots, doubled--by the toes pointing toward the mill, and by the appearance as of some one stepping partly into them again.

"Are those your footmarks, David?" said his master.

"Mine, sir? No. Mine's got tips on the toes. Look."

He lifted one leg across the other, as if he were going to be shod by a blacksmith, showing that his soles would have made a very different impression upon the soft earth.

"Why, sir," continued David with a smile, "I never leaves no footmarks.

Natur' meant a man's hands to be used as rakes, or they would not 'a been this shape. I always gives the place a touch over where I've been."

"Yes," said Uncle Richard, nodding. "I have seen you."

"You ayve, sir, many times," said David, bending down; "and these here couldn't have been made by Master Tom, anyhow."

"Lend me your knife, David," said Uncle Richard.

"Knife, sir? Oh, I'll soon smooth them marks out."

"Stop!" cried Uncle Richard, and only just in time, for David's finger-rake was within an inch. "We may want to compare those with somebody's boots."

"Why o' course, sir," said the gardener, handing his knife already opened; when, placing one foot close against the bricks, Uncle Richard leaned across the bed, inserted the blade of the knife beside the iron cas.e.m.e.nt frame, and with it lifted the fastening with the greatest ease.

David gave his leg a heavy slap.

"That was some 'un artful, sir, and he got in."

"Slipped in descending inside, and dragged the speculum on the floor,"

said Uncle Richard, frowning. "Now the question is, who was it?"

"Ah, who was it, sir?" said David. "Arn't such a great many folk in Furzebrough, and I should say as it lies between Parson Maxted and Pete Warboys, and it warn't parson, 'cause of the boots."

"I don't like to suspect unjustly," said Uncle Richard, "so don't say anything, David. I'll go down to the lad's home with my nephew here, and we'll see if we can find out whether he has been about here since yesterday."

"And you'll have your work cut out, sir," said David; "for that chap goes hawking about more like a ferret than aught else; but if it warn't him, Master Tom, I'll heat my head."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

David went back to his gardening, giving Tom a smile and a nod, and whispering to him as he followed his uncle after locking up the workshop and the yard gate--

"You and me's good friends again, arn't we, Master Tom?"

"Yes, of course, David; and I beg your pardon for ever suspecting you."

"Oh, that's all right, sir. It was six o' one and half-a-dozen o' the other. I thought it was you, and you thought it was me, and--"

"Come, Tom," said Uncle Richard; and the boy hurried forward, and did not hear the end of David's speech.

"Mind we put a secure fastening on those lower windows to-morrow morning," said Uncle Richard thoughtfully. "We ought to be able to live down in a place like this without nocturnal visitors; but there, one never knows."

They walked on pretty sharply till the cottages were reached; and as soon as the visitors came up to the gate the curious-looking old woman appeared at the open door, shading her eyes with her hand, and peering at them as they walked down the path.

"It's of no use to come here," she cried loudly. "Don't want any. No money to buy anything. Go to the rich gentlefolk and sech."

"You old impostor!" said Uncle Richard softly. "You can see who we are plainly enough."

"D'yer hear? Don't want any to-day."

"Now, Mrs Warboys, I want to see your grandson."

"Hey?"

"I say I want to see your grandson."

"What?"

"I want to see your grandson."

"Who are you? Haven't you got anything to sell?"

"You know I have not. You can see well enough when you come for help."

"Hey? Who are you?"

"You know me. I am from Heatherleigh."

"Oh, it's you. I thought you wanted to sell calicoes and flannels.

What did you bring your pack for? What's in it? Oh, I see, it arn't a pack at all; it's a boy. What d'yer want?"

"I told you I want to see your grandson."

"What for?"

"I want to ask him a few questions."

"Ah, that's no good. He says he had so many asked him at school that he'll never answer no more."