The Vast Abyss Part 83

For Sam was utterly exhausted by his many hours' exertions, and his father's monotonous, droning voice, as he went on bemoaning his fate, after irritating him for a time, and making him ready to make retorts, gradually began to have a soothing effect, making him feel drowsy; then more drowsy, and at last, when James Brandon paused before the chair in which the lad lay back, and gazed full in his face, saying--

"What I want to know, sir, is, how you could be such an obstinate idiot as to persist in going your own way, after all my strong, carefully-thought-out advice?--what I want to know, I say, is--why, he's asleep!"

James Brandon was quite right--his son had dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep, and it is probable that if he had shouted in his ear instead of speaking in a subdued, hurried voice, he would not have succeeded in awaking him to the sense of anything he said.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

Uncle Richard came back late the second night after the robbery, tired out, and glad to go to bed, so that nothing was said respecting the events at the observatory till the next morning at breakfast.

"Hah! no place like home, Mrs Fidler," he exclaimed. "London hotels are all very well, but I'm always glad to get back to Heatherleigh."

"It does me good to hear you say so, sir," said the housekeeper, "for I'm always afraid, sir, that when you come back from the grand places you've been at you'll be dissatisfied."

"No fear of that, Mrs Fidler," said Uncle Richard merrily. "Well, Tom, my lad, I need not ask how you are; you look quite hardy."

"There, Mrs Fidler," said Tom, "you hear that?"

"Yes, my dear, I hear that," said the housekeeper, compressing her lips; "but you can't deceive me. You know you were ill."

"I know you wanted to dose me with prune tea," cried Tom hastily; and he made a grimace.

"Well, sir, who are you that you are not to be dosed with prune tea?"

said Uncle Richard, with a mock-serious look. "Mrs Fidler has on more than one occasion tried to play the doctor's part with me."

"And I'm sure, sir, I meant it for the best," said the housekeeper, drawing herself up.

"Of course you did, Mrs Fidler," said Uncle Richard. Then, to change the conversation--"Well, Tom, how about the plane mirror; have you got one perfect yet?"

"Perfect, uncle?" said Tom, smiling. "I'm afraid not."

"So am I, my lad; but have you made one as perfect as possible?"

"Yes, uncle, I've done that," said Tom, who, ever since he rose that morning, had been in a state of mental perturbation, eager to tell his uncle about the breaking into the mill, but fully determined not to say a word--for several reasons--until they were alone.

"Well, let's hear what you did."

"Exactly as you told me, uncle. I took the three pieces of thick plate-gla.s.s, and ground them together, changing their positions over and over again, and ended by polishing them one over the other till I think they are as flat as they can possibly be."

"That remains to be proved, Tom--in the telescope. One of the three ought to be good enough for us; but we shall see."

Then the breakfast went on, with Uncle Richard spending a good deal of time over his letters; and at last Mrs Fidler rose and left the room, while Tom felt his cheeks grow warm with excitement.

The time had come for speaking about the robbery, and the question was how to begin. For the boy felt that he had been left in charge of the observatory, and that his uncle might fancy that he had neglected something in the way of securing the place. How then to begin?

While he was mentally seeking for the words connected with the first plunge, the difficulty was solved, the announcement coming out quite naturally, just as Tom felt that he must plunge at once into the story of how he had--in his ignorance--become once more poor.

"What was the matter with you, my boy?" said Uncle Richard, suddenly dropping the letter he was reading, and looking searchingly at his nephew.

"Matter, uncle?"

"Yes, when Mrs Fidler wanted to physic you. There must have been something wrong or she would not have noticed it. Too much fruit?"

"Oh no, uncle," cried Tom eagerly. "She saw how dull and tired I looked after that night in the mill."

"What? you never were so foolish as to stop up all night at work over those plane mirrors?"

"Oh no, uncle," cried Tom, who was now well started; and he plunged at once into his narration, from the looking out of the window to his return to bed.

"Tut--tut--tut!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Uncle Richard, frowning, and looking very grimly at his nephew, who, as soon as he had run down, changed from a state of eager excitement to one of depression, and felt quite chilled by the reception his news had met with.

"You don't think I ought to have done more, do you, uncle?" he faltered.

"More? Goodness gracious, boy, what more could you have done? You behaved very pluckily, but it was a great risk to run. Then you have not made it known?"

"No, uncle. David knows, of course, but I gave him strict orders not to say a word."

"And he has not spoken?"

"No, uncle, I think not."

"Good! But you have not spoken to Mr Maxted?"

"No, uncle. I thought you ought to be the first to hear."

"Quite right, Tom. I am glad that in so serious a matter you kept your own counsel. I don't think David would speak. Eh? Yes, Mrs Fidler, we have quite done. Come along, Tom. We'll go over into the workshop."

Uncle Richard led the way, gazing keenly up at the little gallery as they crossed the mill-yard.

"Tut--tut--tut!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Why, Tom, you might have broken your neck."

He said no more till they were up in the laboratory, where he examined the bureau, frowning heavily the while, and noting how easily, by the insertion of a flat iron tool, the woodwork could be heaved up, so as to allow the locked drawers to be wrenched open; and there were the marks of chisel or screw-driver plainly showing where they had indented the wood.

Then they went up into the observatory, and the great shutter was examined.

"Hah! I see you have locked the stable door, Tom," exclaimed Uncle Richard.

"Stable door, uncle?"

"Yes, now the steed is stolen. That shutter did not close securely.

Any one could pa.s.s a hand beneath, and then slip the bolt."

"Yes, uncle; and so I put a screw in there to hold it fast till you came back."

"Quite right. I'll have it done properly. We'll secure it with a piece of sheet-iron at the bottom. Come along down."

They went back into the laboratory below. Uncle Richard making a few remarks about the trap-door, and the struggle at the steps, asking a few questions too about the chase up and down, and round the workshop, before he settled himself in an easy-chair, leaving Tom standing by the table.