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 WE THREE BOYS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A YEAR OF ADVENTURE. 
 
 By L. valentine, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE kni(;ht's ransom," "sea fights and land battles,' 
 
 "HEROISM AND ADVENTURE," ETC., ETC. 
 
 LONDON: 
 FREDERICK WARNE AND CO., 
 
 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.
 
 DALZIEt, BROTHERS, CAMDEN PRBSS, LONDON, N.W. 
 
 383— 20.10.83— 39i>.
 
 
 iA1i~-^'^^ 
 
   'Z^.-^ r^t^'" " v^ 
 
 
 ■:^t?<i^^--^^'^^ VX3€w-e 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 I 
 
 'EVERAL of the adventures related 
 in the following tale actually oc- 
 curred. Some of them are authen- 
 ticated by the Author's personal experiences, 
 especially the fact of a tiger in full chase 
 passing in dangerous proximity to a carriage; 
 and that of General Sir Charles Napier 
 checking the spring of two leopards by his 
 steadfast gaze. 
 
 It is hoped that our readers may find some 
 amusement in this record of the perils and 
 exploits of " Three Boys."
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. — IN GREATEST PERIL 
 
 11. — PRESENTATION OF THE WATCH 
 
 III. — dick's uncle .... 
 
 IV. — RUNNING AWAY 
 V. — AN ADVENTURE AT AN HOTEL 
 VI. — HAROLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGER 
 VII. — A ROMANTIC STORY 
 VIII. — AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 
 
 IX. — lance's watch 
 
 X. — AN INTERVIEW WITH TERESA 
 XI. — BETRAYED 
 XII.— lance's STORY 
 XIII. — A MYSTERY 
 XIV.— A TERRIBLE SECRET 
 XV. — FEARS AND PERILS . 
 XVL— ENGLISH BOYS' HONOUR 
 XVII. — "WE THREE" ONCE MORE 
 XVIII. — IN THE CAVES . 
 XIX.— LANCE SHOT INSTEAD OF DICK 
 
 PAGB 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 21 
 
 31 
 
 36 
 
 45 
 55 
 61 
 72 
 
 78 
 84 
 
 91 
 
 95 
 108 
 114 
 121 
 128 
 138 
 X48
 
 Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XX. — THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL 
 
 XXI. — SHIPWRECKED 
 
 XXII. — SAMBO 
 
 XXIII. — AMONGST THE TEA 
 
 XXIV. — THE ORANGE GROVE . 
 
 XXV. — FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES . 
 
 XXVI. — A TIGER-HUNT BY MOONLIGHT 
 
 XXVII. — A DREADFUL ADVENTURE . 
 
 XXVIIL — RESTORED TO THEIR FRIENDS 
 
 XXIX. — BESIEGED .... 
 
 XXX. — THE DEFENCE 
 
 XXXI. — IN THE FOREST . 
 
 XXXII. — RELIEVED .... 
 
 XXXIII. — PROSPECTS MARRED 
 
 XXXIV. — NEMESIS .... 
 
 XXXV. — THE LOST CHILD . 
 
 XXXVI. — THE PARROT 
 
 XXXVH. — BURGLARS .... 
 
 XXXVIIL — CONCLUSION 
 
 154 
 164 
 169 
 179 
 J 94 
 202 
 213 
 222 
 
 241 
 249 
 
 265 
 270 
 
 274 
 
 285 
 
 291 
 299 
 
 309
 
 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN GREATEST PERIL. 
 
 T is evening ; the sun is setting in saffron and 
 rose, and a soft pinkish-grey light is falling 
 over the sea. The tide is coming in fast, 
 but with a gentle murmur, as the waves lap 
 against the rocks. The beach is shut in by the high 
 Cornish cliffs, which, rising steeply from it, fling their 
 frowning shadow over the sea. 
 
 At their foot, seated on a ledge of rock, is a boy of 
 about fourteen years old ; he is a fine lad, tall for his age, 
 with a good honest countenance — in fact, one might call 
 him handsome, with his bright blue eyes, chestnut hair, 
 and rather chiselled features. He is reading, and is too 
 deeply enthralled by his book to notice the advancing 
 tide, till by-and-bye it laps over the ledge he is sitting 
 on, and runs up to his feet. Then he rises reluctantly, 
 closes his book, and, with a sigh, prepares to return 
 home ; but, to his surpi-ise, he finds the beach he has so 
 recently traversed under water. It is too deep for him 
 to wade through, and he cannot swim. He turns back
 
 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 hastily — he can escape, he thinks, by the beach on the 
 other side of the ledge, it is nearer on a level with it, and 
 will not yet have been submerged. 
 
 But on reaching it he finds that it also is deeply 
 covered by the waves, while the water on the ledge 
 itself is already over his boots. He looks round him in 
 dismay : there is water everywhere, except where the 
 mighty cliff raises its precipitous side behind him, and 
 over all the tranquil sea there is no sign of a boat, save 
 a distant sail in the horizon. 
 
 He notices by the wet seaweed high up on the side of 
 the cliff that the tide will rise presently far above his 
 head. There is no other escape than by climbing the 
 cliff; he must try it, but he looks up hopelessly at it. 
 He dwells a mile or more from the sea and the cliffs, 
 and though he can climb the highest tree in his uncle's 
 park, he has never tried to clamber on the rocks, and 
 this is an awful ascent to make. He pauses, and cries 
 loudly for help ; but none comes, and now the water is 
 up to his ankles. Again he cries out, but his voice is 
 only echoed by the rocks. There is no help coming to 
 him, he thinks bitterly; he must perish there or dare 
 that dreadful cliff's side. Well, it looks impracticable, 
 but it is at least a chance ; and he might perhaps reach 
 a narrow ledge he can discern some distance up, and 
 stand there till he is seen by some passing boat. He 
 begins the ascent. It is not as difficult as he feared. 
 There are projections and twigs he has not noticed, which 
 help him. He goes on. He has reached at last the 
 distant ledge. It is only wide enough for him to stand 
 on, and he wonders if it is beyond reach of the sea. He 
 fears not, for there is seaweed on it. 
 
 Encouraged by his success thus far, he determines to
 
 IN GREATEST PERIL. 
 
 continue his ascent at once. Had he only known it, 
 the ledge ivas just above high-water mark ; but he did 
 not, and resumed his climbing. He is midway up the 
 cliff now ; but, alas ! it has been increasingly difficult to 
 mount. The earth crumbles under his feet ; the face of 
 the cliff grows more rocky and smooth. There is no hold 
 farther on. He stands where he is, and looks up hope- 
 lessly. The cliff bends over him at the edge, as if to 
 crush him. He can go no farther, and in despair he 
 utters once more an agonized cry for help. 
 
 This time it is heard. Some of the visitors to the neigh- 
 bouring watering-place are walking on the top of the 
 cliff A gentleman looks over it at the sound, and cries, 
 
 "Good Heaven! there is a boy clinging to the cliff, 
 half-way up it." 
 
 The others crowd to the spot ; amongst them the 
 coastguard man, with his glass under his arm. 
 
 Exclamations of horror and pity are uttered by all. 
 
 " Oh ! how can he be saved ? " that is the general 
 question. 
 
 One gentleman calls for ropes to be brought. '* We 
 must throw him one," he declares. 
 
 The coastguard man shakes his head. 
 
 " He could not catch it," he said, " or put it round him 
 as he stands. Some one must go down to him ; but it 
 is awfully dangerous." 
 
 Several people had meantime run off to get ropes and 
 aid from the town. 
 
 " Could not a boat be sent to him } " asked a visitor. 
 
 "No, sir," said the coastguard man, "it could not get 
 in over the sharp low rocks there ; and besides, he could 
 not get down to it. Look how helplessly he clings : he 
 has lost his nerve, poor little cbap ! "
 
 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 And now the people are returning, bringing ropes from 
 the coastguard-station, and men. Accompanying them 
 is a tall stately gentleman, well known to most of those 
 present as Captain Regan of the Royal Navy, and with 
 him is his son, a midshipman of about fifteen, a tall 
 powerful lad, with broni^cd skin and laughing eyes. 
 
 The ropes are now on the cliff, but the men agree with 
 the first coastguard man that it would be useless to throw 
 a rope to the boy. Some one must descend to rescue him. 
 
 The coastguard man (first named) gallantly volunteered 
 to go ; but he was a large heavy man, and they demurred 
 as to the rope bearing him and the added weight of the 
 lad. 
 
 " A boy could do it — no one else," said one of the pre- 
 ventive men. " If my lad were here, he should go ; but 
 he 's at Plymouth." 
 
 " I will go," said the midshipman, stepping forward. 
 
 Captain Regan laid his hand on his son's shoulder. 
 " You could not do it, Lance," he said nervously. 
 
 "Yes, father, I can. Please remember that I am a 
 born cragsman, reared in Ultima Thule," with a smile. 
 " It is to save a life, father ! " eagerly. 
 
 Captain Regan sighed. "Well," he said, "then, go, 
 and God keep you, my brave boy." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said Lance simply. Then advancing, 
 he said, " My father will let me go, men." 
 
 There was a deep murmur of applause as the boy drew 
 off his boots and stockings, and threw off his hat and 
 jacket, and the preventive seamen then fastened the rope 
 round his waist, leaving a long loop for him to extend to 
 the boy, if that should be possible. 
 
 Captain Regan anxiously examined the knots of the 
 rope to be sure all were taut and safe, and then they
 
 ^
 
 LANCE DESCENDING TO SAVE HAROLD.
 
 I.Y GREATEST PERIL. 5 
 
 proceeded to assist Lance in getting over the cliff. Tlie 
 spectators, who eagerly crowded the very edge of it, held 
 their breath as they saw him hang free against the side, 
 and the rope was paid carefully and slowly out. 
 
 He keeps himself cleverly from being beat against the 
 side of the rock, and now — now he is close over — now he 
 is beside the boy, and clutches his jacket collar in a strong 
 grasp. The rescued lad too by a despairing effort catches 
 at the rope. Lance throws one arm round him, the other 
 holding the rope, and then he whistles ; the signal for 
 drawing up. They begin to draw in the rope, and there 
 are so many strong helping hands that it ascends rapidly, 
 and the two boys stand on the cliff at last — safe. 
 
 Then a burst of wild cheering goes up from the crowd, 
 and Lance's father steps forward and speechlessly grasps 
 his son's hand ; every one rushes up to do the same. 
 The brave boy is overwhelmed with praises and congra- 
 tulations. 
 
 Meantime, however, the rescued lad has sunk under 
 the reaction, and lies white and faint on the grass. 
 
 A lady and a little girl arc beside him. The lady is 
 holding a scent-bottle to his nose ; then the men bring 
 her a flask furnished by one of the visitors, which she 
 holds to his mouth, and he revives and gets up hastily, 
 though still white and sick; he is sadly ashamed of that 
 very natural swoon. 
 
 " Where is the fellow who saved me ? " he asks, passing 
 his hand over his brow ; " where is he ? " 
 
 " Here ! here ! " cried the little girl, running to Lance, 
 seizing his hand and dragging him from amongst his 
 surrounding admirers, " here he is." 
 
 The boys clasped hands. " I don't know how to thank 
 you," said Harold, faintly.
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Oh, there's no need," said his deliverer; "it was 
 nothing." 
 
 "Nothing! You saved my life! I was so giddy just 
 then that I zuautcd to jump oft" into the sea. Another 
 minute, and I should have done it ; but I saw you 
 coming," and he shivered. 
 
 " It must have been hard for you," said Lance. 
 
 At this moment there rushed up to them another boy 
 of about the rescued lad's age, who grasped Lance's 
 hand also, and exclaimed, 
 
 " Oh, I say. Lance, it zvas brave of you ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Dick ; you would have done the same, you 
 know, if you had been here." 
 
 " Oh, I would have v/anted to, but I couldn't. I 
 should have been too giddy to see," protested Dick. 
 
 "Ah, that 's because you were not born in the Shetland 
 Isles," said Lance. 
 
 Just then the child who had dragged Lance over to 
 the rescued boy pulled his jacket. He looked down at 
 her, and saw a sweet little face upturned to him, and a 
 soft voice said, 
 
 " Brave boy, I want to kiss 'oo because 'oo so good." 
 
 Lance laughed and blushed, but bent down and kissed 
 the little creature, who put her arms round his neck. 
 Her mother, who was standing by, said, 
 
 " Pray forgive my little girl, Mr. Regan. She is very 
 intrusive ; but she was so dreadfully excited about you, 
 and so anxious for you." 
 
 "Yes," said the little one, "and all the time I said 
 Our Father' for )ou ; and so God saved you both." 
 
 " That is the very truth," said Captain Regan reve- 
 rently ; " and," raising his hat, " we owe Him thanks." 
 
 Then, turning to the boy, he said,
 
 IN GREATEST PERIL. 
 
 " Young gentleman, 1 hear you do not live in the 
 town ; you had better therefore go home v/ith us, and 
 have a cup of tea. 
 
 " Thank you ! " said the lad, " I should be glad to do 
 so ; but I have a long walk home, and I am late now.'^ 
 
 " Still, I think a rest would be advisable, and perhaps 
 a fly home, after such an adventure." 
 
 " Do come," said the lad Lance had called Dick. " I 
 know you live at the Raven's Nest, and it 's a good walk 
 there. Come home with us, and I am certain my father 
 will send you home in the carriage. He attends Sir 
 Jasper, you know." 
 
 " Are you Dr. Lovelace's son } " asked the boy eagerly. 
 " Oh ! then I will go with you and have a cup of tea, for 
 I am awfully thirsty." 
 
 " And Lance who saved you, and his father, are stay- 
 ing with us, you sec; so we can all talk the event over to- 
 gether. Captain Regan — Lance, — this is Harold Sinclair, 
 Sir Jasper Sinclair's nephew, whom you have saved, and 
 he will go home to drink tea with us." And Dick almost 
 cut a caper with pleasure at the thought. 
 
 As the three boys moved to leave the cliff, another 
 great cheer rose ; and the coastguard man came up and 
 said to Lance, 
 
 "Before you go, sir, I should be proud to shake hands 
 with you. You 're in the navy, sir, and I shall be glad 
 at any future time to serve under you." 
 
 Lance shook hands cordially with his brother sailor, 
 and then they moved away and descended into the town 
 to the house of Dr. Lovelace, a handsome dwelling on 
 the Esplanade facing the sea. 
 
 Here they were welcomed by Mrs. Lovelace, a very 
 pleasant charming person, who, when she heard their
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 story, kissed Lance with tears in her eyes, and warmly 
 welcomed Harold, whom she had known — as Dick had 
 — by sight for a long time ; but by sight only hitherto, as 
 the lad visited no one, and made no friends. 
 
 He came daily into the town to his tutor's, but he was 
 never seen about the place after he left the tutor's lodg- 
 ings, except by the boatmen, for he always ran off to the 
 sea-shore if he had any time to spare. Harold's passion 
 was the sea. He had gone thither, as we know, to read 
 in his favourite place a book his tutor had lent him — 
 "The Last Days of Pompeii"— and had been so absorbed 
 in it, that he had nearly been engulfed in the waves he 
 so fondly loved. That he was, however, glad to make 
 these new acquaintances was manifest from his radiant 
 face, as the boys led him into the drawing-room. 
 
 " How cleverly you kept us from striking against the 
 cliff! " he said to Lance. 
 
 " Oh, you see, ever since I was a brat I have been 
 used to the cliffs. I was born in Shetland, and there 
 boys go over higher cliffs than these — or as high — for the 
 sake of birds' feathers and eggs. I thought nothing of 
 going over ; I was only anxious about being able to get 
 at you ; but you were as agile as an acrobat," 
 
 "It was a despairing effort," said Harold — "that or 
 death, you know. Enough to make a fellow agile ! Are 
 you in the navy ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How delightful for you ! I do so want to go to sea," 
 sighed Harold. 
 
 "And won't your people let you ? " asked Lance. 
 
 "I have only an old uncle," replied Harold, "and he 
 will not hear of it." 
 
 "That is unlucky," said Lance: "I think if one has a
 
 2N GREATEST PERIL. 
 
 great longing for the sea, it is a pity not to enter the 
 service. What are you to be, then ? " 
 
 "Nothing," said the boy, rather bitterly, "except a 
 gamekeeper ; that is part of my occupation at present." 
 
 Lance wondered, but did not like to make any remark, 
 as Dick, who was leaning over the back of the sofa, 
 pinched his shoulder. Just then a little rosy-faced girl 
 ran in. 
 
 " Oh, Lance ! " she cried, " how brave and good you 
 
 have been ! Did you " Then seeing the young 
 
 stranger, she paused. 
 
 "Yes," said Harold, smiling at her, " he pulled me over 
 the top of the cliff. It was good of him." 
 
 "Why were you so silly as to go and stay till the 
 waves got round you ? " she asked, fixing her brown eyes 
 earnestly on him. 
 
 " I was reading, and did not notice that the tide was 
 coming in," he said. 
 
 " But then you might have swum round the point." 
 
 " I cannot swim," said Harold. 
 
 " Then you must learn : Dick will teach you. Lance, 
 we are to have honey for tea ! " suddenly : " that is to 
 reward you ! " 
 
 The boys all laughed. 
 
 " Edith," said Dick majestically, "we have souls above 
 honey." 
 
 "Oh, Dick! you know you like it better than any- 
 thing," reproachfully. 
 
 Dick laughed. 
 
 " But," she went on, " mamma sent me to tell you that 
 tea is ready, and papa will be in almost directly ; so 
 come as soon as you like." And little Edith ran off 
 again.
 
 lO 
 
 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Dick then led the way into the dining-room, where 
 they found Mrs. Lovelace presiding at a table covered 
 with all kinds of dainties — honey amongst them — and 
 Captain Regan standing by her. 
 
 "Your father is come home," she said to Dick, "and 
 will join us directly ; but we will not wait for him, as 
 Mr. Sinclair will no doubt be anxious to get home, lest 
 his uncle should hear of his danger and be alarmed." 
 
 Harold smiled a little bitterly, but said nothing, and 
 sat down quietly between Dick and Lance.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE PRESENTATION OF THE WATCH. 
 
 AROLD did not go home that night. 
 
 When Dr. Lovelace had heard the storv, and 
 noticed that the rescued lad could not eat a 
 morsel of the capital meat-tea spread before them, he 
 felt his pulse, and declared that instead of sending Harold 
 hom_e, he would drive over to see Sir Jasper himself. 
 
 "And Mrs. Lovelace," he added, smiling at the sweet, 
 kind, motherly woman, " will have a bed made up for 
 you — we keep our beds always aired — and you must go 
 to it at once, Harold, and take a composing draught, 
 or you will suffer again, in your dreams, the horrors 
 of the past few hours." 
 
 Harold declared that he was " all right now," and need 
 not give Mrs. Lovelace any trouble ; but the doctor 
 would not hear of his return home, and the lad had to 
 obey him. 
 
 He went off to bed, while the doctor started for the 
 Raven's Nest, as old Sir Jasper's place was called. He 
 requested Captain Regan not to sit up for him, and ad- 
 vised that Lance and Dick should follow Harold's ex- 
 ample, and go to bed after their excitement ; but they 
 only lavghcd, and when he returned at about eleven 
 o'clock, he found them still up. 
 
 11
 
 IFE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " Well," asked Mrs. Lovelace, " what did the old gen- 
 tleman say ? Was he not thankful for his heir's escape 
 from death ? " 
 
 " Thankful 1 " cried the doctor scornfully, " I really be- 
 lieve that he would not have cared if the poor lad had 
 been dashed to pieces ! All I could get out of him was 
 'What business had he there?' and, 'I hope his rescue 
 won't cost much ! " 
 
 " It won't cost anything," said Lance, reddening. 
 
 " So I told him," answered the doctor ; " I said that a 
 young gentleman had saved Harold, and that officers 
 in the navy were paid only by thanks. Then he grew 
 quite eloquent, and begged me to tell you that he could 
 not thank you enough ; that you were the bravest of 
 boys, and would doubtless be a great man." 
 
 Lance laughed merrily. 
 
 " What a queer old chap he must be," he said. " But, 
 I say, Dr. Lovelace, I didn't know that there were any 
 misers nowadays. Does he keep his guineas in his house 
 and count them every night .'' " 
 
 " No, my lad, that kind of miser is gone by. The miser 
 of the present day hoards that he may invest, and in- 
 stead of counting over his gold, watches the rise and fall 
 of his investments. But it is really shameful," he went 
 on to Captain Regan, " the old man will not send Harold 
 to a public school, or to either of the universities. He 
 has had him educated by an old tutor who lives in Pcn- 
 garven, and gives daily lessons at a low rate. The boy 
 walks in to them daily ; I expect he was taking a longer 
 road home for the sake of a walk by the sea to-day 
 when he got caught by the tide. Sir Jasper will neither 
 educate him nor give him a profession. He said when I 
 once urged it, ' No, no. Dr. Lovelace. When I die he
 
 THE PRESENTATION OF THE WATCH. 13 
 
 will come into my property, for it is entailed, and as I 
 can't do anything with it after my death, I choose to do 
 what I like with it in my lifetime, and he may be very 
 grateful to me that I don't waste my money.' In vain 
 I told him that, for Harold's future position, culture and 
 education are indispensable. He replied scornfully, 'What 
 culture would he get at Oxford or Cambridge ? All he 
 would learn there would be to spend money — my money, 
 doctor.' But, I urged, he must have a profession. It is 
 so bad for a lad to have nothing to do all day. 'There's 
 plenty for him to do,' was the reply, * he can keep the 
 accounts of the farms for me, and shoot the game. I 
 don't choose to pay a keeper, with a great lad like that 
 about the place.' Of course it was of no use for me to 
 say more." 
 
 " It is an awful shame," said Captain Regan ; " he 
 seems a fine lad, too." 
 
 " He is a first-rate young fellow," said the doctor, 
 "honourable, gentle, devoted to reading and study of all 
 kinds. He has a taste for drawing and sketching, but 
 his uncle won't buy him pencils or paints, so the gift is 
 cast away in great degree. I gave him a paint-box my- 
 self one day, and he has found old parchments in the 
 muniment-room, which Sir Jasper said he might have. 
 It is extraordinary the talent he has; if cultivated, it 
 would make him a great artist." 
 
 " What a sad position for the poor lad," said Captain 
 Regan. 
 
 "And it may go on till he is middle-aged," went on 
 Doctor Lovelace, "for Sir Jasper, though in feeble healtli, 
 takes a great deal of starving." 
 
 Dr. Lbvelace did not fully know how mean Sir Jasper 
 Sinclair really was. Poor Harold was often badly shod,
 
 14 IVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 his boots patched by the village cobbler, his jacket thread- 
 bare, his under-linen of the coarsest. It took all the old 
 housekeeper's loving care to keep the poor boy even 
 decent. It was quite " treasure trove " when he disco- 
 vered in a garret of the old rambling mansion some 
 ladies' velvet dresses of the centuries gone by, from 
 which good Mrs. Brown manufactured him jackets, while 
 from the fine old Dutch linen sheets she made his under- 
 garments. If it had not been for her care also, the heir 
 of the Raven's Nest would often have been cold and 
 hungry, for Sir Jasper never had a large enough fire in 
 his own grate to warm himself, and never allowed a suffi- 
 cient supply of meat at his table. Harold was always 
 being lectured on his inordinate appetite, and was often 
 glad to take a trout from one of the streams, to Mrs. 
 Brown, who dressed it for their supper in her room. 
 
 Sir Jasper kept only this old servant, a girl, and a man. 
 The place was let go to ruin, for he never repaired the 
 old house, or permitted the labourer, whom he called a 
 gardener, to cultivate anything but vegetables. 
 
 Therefore Harold, who had a taste for gardening, had 
 himself dug up and tended the once beautiful " Plea- 
 saunce," where, thanks to his care and the delightful 
 climate, the roses and lilies bloomed to perfection. Gar- 
 dening, fishing (in its season, shooting), and reading were 
 Harold Sinclair's chief occupations. There was a grand 
 old library and picture gallery in the house, and in these 
 he was free to revel, for Sir Jasper never entered either. 
 He had a private study of his own, with bureaux for his 
 share receipts and coupons, in which he read the report 
 of the money market, and studied everything about the 
 existing state of affairs in all lands which were the credi- 
 tors of Europe.
 
 THE PRESENTATION OF THE WATCH. 15 
 
 He had long since fallen out of the county society, 
 refusing all invitations, and returning no calls; therefore 
 Harold was not acquainted with any one but Dr. Love- 
 lace, who was often at the house in attendance on Sir 
 Jasper, whose health was feeble. 
 
 The next morning the three boys met at breakfast, 
 and again fraternized. Dr. Lovelace had brought word 
 from Sir Jasper that Harold might dine with Captain 
 Regan, and the boys were delighted to hear that he 
 (Captain Regan) intended to give them a dinner at the 
 hotel, and to take them to a circus, which was in the 
 town, afterwards. It was Dick's holidays — he went to the 
 grammar school in the town, and it was now vacation. 
 Lance, who was a naval cadet, was on a visit at the house 
 with his father — for Captain Regan and Dr. Lovelace 
 were very old and dear friends. 
 
 Captain Regan had married a beautiful and well-born 
 Shetland lady, and when this princess of Thule died (as 
 she did when Lance was only three years old), her family 
 had taken charge of her orphan babe, and brought him 
 up, till he went on board the Britannia training-ship. 
 His education had been entrusted to a clever tutor who 
 lived in his grandfather's house, and who had prepared 
 the boy admirably for his examinations, without the 
 necessity of cramming. But in his play-hours young 
 Lance had gone out on the cliffs with the Shetland boys, 
 and had, as he said, become a good cragsman, an accom- 
 plishment very valuable to him in his future profession, 
 and, as we have seen, in other circumstances also. 
 
 Captain Regan gave the boys a first-rate dinner at the 
 hotel. Many of the delicacies presented to them Harold 
 had never seen before, and, boy-like, he enjoyed them 
 greatly. After dinner they went to the circus, which
 
 l6 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 was a very good one, and the first entertainment of the 
 kind also that Harold had ever seen. 
 
 " This is jolly," he whispered to Lance ; " my life was 
 worth saving, as I am to have so much pleasure in it." 
 
 By-and-bye they saw a little fair-haired girl of about 
 seven years old nodding violently to them from a seat a 
 little way off. It was Lance's small admirer. The boys 
 returned her greeting cordially, and as they went out of 
 the circus, her mother joined them. She was a Mrs. 
 Mordaunt, a woman of large fortune, the wife of a general 
 in the army, who was then absent in India, from whence 
 she had returned with little Ella for the child's education 
 and health. She spoke to Captain Regan, and repeated 
 her invitation to his son and his friends, 
 
 " Can they spend the day with us to-morrow," she 
 asked, "or the day after? — I mean all the three — and we 
 can have a day in the woods." 
 
 The invitation was accepted for two of the boys, and 
 Harold said he knew Sir Jasper would let him go if he 
 asked him. The next morning, therefore, the friends 
 parted, with the hope of a speedy reunion. 
 
 Sir Jasper received his nephew on his return home 
 after his peril with a growl. 
 
 " So, sir," he said, " you have been climbing the cliffs, 
 and risking other people's valuable lives, as well as your 
 own. I suppose you have torn your boots to pieces .'' " 
 
 " They are a little scratched, that is all," said Harold. 
 
 " Well, don't let me hear of any more tricks of that 
 kind, wearing out your clothes unnecessarily. You are 
 expense enough as it is, without such risks." 
 
 " Uncle Jasper," said Harold, " why need I be an ex- 
 pense to you? Why don't you let me earn my own 
 living.? I should be glad to do so."
 
 THE PRESENTATION OE THE IVATCII. 17 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! Earn your living, indeed ! 
 You couldn't do work enough to earn your suit. Be 
 content and thankful for your home, and see what you 
 can do for me, to lighten the burden of feeding and 
 clothing you." 
 
 And with these words Sir Jasper dismissed his nephew. 
 But when they met in the evening at dinner, he was more 
 amiable, and was quite pleased that Harold should go 
 out for a day again — " it saved his food " ! 
 
 They had a merry day at the IMordaunts'. Mrs. Mor- 
 daunt drove them into the great woods which sheltered 
 her house on the north-east, and there they dined, under 
 the green trees. They rode donkey races afterwards in 
 the meadow — and, in short, they had a thorough day's 
 fun, pleasure as well as danger thus drawing the boys 
 together. They walked back to the town in the twilight, 
 talking of all conceivable things, amongst which the 
 future held a considerable place. 
 
 Lance spoke with enthusiasm of what he should see 
 and do at sea, while Dick made jokes about being " a 
 Sawbones," and discovering absurd remedies for poisons; 
 but it was of Lance that poor Harold felt bitterly en- 
 vious. He loved the sea with all his heart. His happiest 
 hours had been spent upon the beach, and whenever a 
 good-natured boatman had given him a sail he had been 
 perfectly happy. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, as Lance spoke of the ship he was 
 about to enter as midshipman — a smart corvette — " if I 
 could only go to sea ! Do you know the waves seem 
 always calling me. Lance?" 
 
 " Like pick Whittington, eh .?" laughed Dick Lovelace. 
 " I advise you not to listen to them, or you may be * mar- 
 ried to a mermaid at the bottom of the sea,' as the song
 
 1 8 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 says. I lay any money Lance never heard them calling 
 to him. Did you, Lance ? " 
 
 " No," said the boy, " I didn't ; but I love the roar of 
 the waves too, Dick." 
 
 Harold sighed deeply. "And I must always live 
 on shore, and only dream of storms, and calms, and the 
 beautiful lands far away," he said disconsolately. 
 
 "Never mind," returned Dick consolingly, "by-and-bye 
 you will be master of the Raven's Nest, and then you can 
 fit out a yacht and go round the world if you like." 
 
 "But I may be an old man then," said Harold. 
 
 To this there could be no answer. 
 
 The boys parted that night, to meet again next day 
 and the day after; in fact, the three were never happy 
 asunder. 
 
 " May we three boys have a swim together .■' " " ]\Iay 
 we three boys go to fish together with old Ben the fisher- 
 man .'' " " May we three boys have mother's pony car- 
 riage to drive to the cricket match at Rcdlands ? " was so 
 often repeated that little Edith Lovelace at last nick- 
 named the boys "We three," and used to ask where " \Vc 
 three" were whenever she wanted Dick. 
 
 " We three " were greatly delighted when one day Mrs. 
 Mordaunt called at Dr. Lovelace's, to ask Captain Regan 
 to allow his son to go to the Assembly Rooms to receive 
 a watch which was to be presented to him by the resi- 
 dents and visitors in the place, in acknowledgment of his 
 recent act of bravery. 
 
 The boys of course were all present on this memorable 
 occasion, and both Dick and Harold were very proud 
 when handsome Lance came forward to receive his gift 
 from the hands of a distinguished old admiral who lived 
 in the place.
 
 THE PRESENTATION OF THE V/ATCH. 19 
 
 "I have great pleasure, my lad," said the brave old 
 sailor, " in presenting you with this gift, a public acknow- 
 ledgment of your generous courage in risking your life 
 for another ; and I beg to inform you that }-ou will re- 
 ceiv-e, in September next, the Royal Humane Society's 
 medal for the same. Take this watch, sir, and use the 
 same coolness and self-devotion for the service of your 
 country, in the noble profession to which you belong." 
 
 Lance, crimson with mingled embarrassment and plea- 
 sure, took the watch, which was a splendid gold one, and 
 then in a clear voice said, 
 
 " I thank the givers of this splendid present with all 
 my heart, though I cannot think that I did more than 
 my simple duty. I shall keep it in remembrance of 
 their kindness, and as a reminder to deserve it." 
 
 A cheer from the assembled spectators answered him, 
 for the hall was quite full ; and Lance, bowing and 
 blushing, found himself surrounded by people eager to 
 shake hands with him, "Exactly," Dick assured him 
 afterwards, " as if he had been Tom Thumb, or any other 
 monstrosity." 
 
 The boys were eager to examine the watch, which 
 they found bore the following inscription : 
 
 " Presented by the visitors and residents in Pengarven 
 to Lancelot Regan, of Her Majesty's Navy, in acknow- 
 ledgment of his heroism in rescuing a lad from death on 
 August 12, 1870." 
 
 This gift, nobly deserved and generously given, was 
 destined hereafter to save Lance's liberty, if not his 
 life. 
 
 With it^ presentation Captain Regan's pleasant visit 
 to his friends ended, and he and Lance had to return 
 to Portsmouth to join their respective ships. Captain
 
 20 
 
 WB THREE BOYS. 
 
 Regan's was to sail for the East Indian station, Lance's 
 corvette for the Mediterranean. 
 
 The boys parted with great regret. 
 
 " Oh, Lance, how we shall miss you ! " said Harold 
 sadly. 
 
 " You '11 write often, won't you, old fellow ? " cried 
 Dick. 
 
 They each had a hand of Lance's in their own. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I '11 write as often as I can ; and you must 
 write to me, both of you. It won't do for us three to 
 forget each other," said Lance. 
 
 And thus, with much unspoken affection, the three 
 boys parted, to meet again sooner, and under far diffe- 
 rent circumstances than any they anticipated.
 
 ■?f' ^^ •■V' 3:?^' " .: 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 dick's uncle. 
 
 ICK and Harold were very downcast after part- 
 ing from Lance, but found consolation in each 
 other's society. Dick went back to the gram- 
 mar school about the i8th or 19th of September; but 
 previous to that time Sir Jasper had allowed Harold to 
 ask him to shoot with him. The old miser was glad that 
 Harold should so often get his dinner elsewhere, and 
 also thought that with two guns the supply of game 
 would be more abundant. Dr. Lovelace gladly acceded 
 to this new sport for his son, took out a licence for him, 
 and gave Dick a handsome gun, with which the boys 
 were equally enraptured. 
 
 Dick, under Harold's tuition, became a remarkably 
 good shot, and the boys passed many happy hours 
 amongst the stubble, or in the woods round the Raven's 
 Nest. 
 
 When going out for a day's shooting with Harold, 
 Dick always managed to take a sort of knapsack he had 
 bought full of some nice patties, etc., for his friend ; but 
 Harold secretly chafed at the fact that he could not ask 
 Dick to ev^n a cup of tea, or bring to their picnics more 
 than a crust of bread and cheese. A high-spirited, ge- 
 nerous boy, he felt his imposed poverty cruelly, but found 
 
 21
 
 IV£ THREE BO VS. 
 
 some consolation in pouring forth all his troubles to his 
 good-natured, sympathetic friend. It was a great relief 
 to him when Sir Jasper once actually opened his heart 
 wide enough to give Dick a pheasant for his mother, and 
 told the boy to " bring young Lovelace home to tea one 
 evening." 
 
 And yet how bitterly Harold felt the meanness of that 
 tea compared to the "jolly" meals at Mrs. Lovelace's! 
 
 The weak tea, the skim milk (the fresh milk, cream, 
 and butter of the Raven's Nest dairy were always sold), 
 the week-old home-made bread, and the half pheasant 
 (cold from Sir Jasper's dinner), which was all that INIrs. 
 Brown dared set before the two hungry boys. 
 
 Nevertheless, Dick looked pleased, and was so amusing 
 and made Sir Jasper laugh so much that he graciously 
 invited him to come again " some time," and bade Harold 
 show him over the house. 
 
 Dick was enchanted with the old place ; with the 
 endless staircases and passages, the picture gallery, the 
 holes and corners. He declared that there ought to be 
 a ghost ; adding, "Anyway, it is a jolly place for playing 
 hide and seek." 
 
 Harold took him to the library, but Dick did not care 
 much for books, though he liked amusing stories very 
 well ; while Harold devoured every book he could find. 
 He had thus made himself well acquainted with history 
 and poetry, and gained much quaint and yet useful know- 
 ledge. His old schoolmaster, a private tutor who lived 
 in Pengarven and gave lessons when he could, had not 
 given him much Latin or Greek, but he had taught him 
 French and Italian and a little German, having himself 
 been a travelling tutor for many years and being more 
 conversant with modern languages than with the classics.
 
 DICICS UXCLE. 23 
 
 This was all the teaching Sir Jasper would give his 
 nephew, and for it he paid a shamefully low sum. 
 
 Thus Harold could read the French and Italian books 
 in the library, and though he would have assuredly failed 
 in an examination, was, perhaps, far beyond the unlucky 
 crammed youngsters in knowledge, and in that mental 
 condition which is most conducive to greater attainments. 
 He loved natural history too, and in this taste Dick shared, 
 being a great collector of insects and also a fair botanist, 
 thanks to the doctor's instructions. 
 
 The autumn faded all too soon for the boys, but brought 
 before it ended a great grief to Harold. His poor old 
 tutor — a kind cultivated man, who ought to have made 
 his way in life and did not — died. The poor boy was 
 constantly with him during his last illness, and won Dr. 
 Lovelace's good opinion even more than ever by his 
 kindness to Mr. Fletcher. 
 
 When the tutor's will was read it was found that he 
 had left all he possessed to Harold. It was little enough, 
 only three hundred and fifty pounds; but aware that even 
 this little sum would be grasped for investment by Sir 
 Jasper, he left it under the trusteeship of Dr. Lovelace, 
 who was to give small sums from it to Harold if he 
 required them for any reasonable purpose ; and who 
 would be free of all responsibilities about them upon 
 receiving Harold's receipt- 
 Never did heir to millions feel more grateful to its 
 bequeather than Harold was to the poor man who thus 
 left him hi^ all. Sir Jasper was very angry at the will. 
 " I could have made something of it," he growled ; " it 
 would have grown in my hands; now it will be thoroughl}'- 
 wasted." 
 
 But Dr. Lovelace would not have allowed waste even
 
 24 JV-E THREE BOYS. 
 
 if Harold had wished it. He gave the boy a few pounds 
 for new clothes and needful things, and a small amount 
 for pocket money, out of which Harold resolved at once 
 to buy a gift for Dick at Christmas, and a gown for Mrs. 
 Brown. 
 
 And now Harold was able also to hire a pony, and 
 ride with Dick and his father occasionally, Dr. Lovelace 
 thinking that this sum — which would be worth little to 
 Harold by-and-bye, when he inherited his property — 
 might be profitably spent in teaching him the arts fit 
 for his station. 
 
 And thus the weeks flitted by, and November gave 
 place to " dark December." 
 
 Christmas Eve came at last, and Harold had the satis- 
 faction of bestowing gifts for almost the first time in his 
 hfc. 
 
 "I can't think, Harold," said Dick, as he thanked him 
 for the small but pretty cabinet for his insects, " where 
 you get your generous nature. Not from Sir Jasper, 
 assuredly." 
 
 " From, my dear father," said Harold gravely, " if I am 
 generous. He was a most generous man, Mrs. Brown 
 tells me. He was half-brother to Uncle Jasper, who was 
 years older than my father ; my grandfather married a 
 second time, you know. My father was in the army, and 
 died, as did my dear mother, in India. 
 
 Dr. Lovelace had consented to give Dick a party that 
 evening, and Harold had come into Pengarven to attend 
 it, and was to sleep there that night. 
 
 It was a very successful entertainment. They danced, 
 j)layed games, had a pretty Christmas-tree with really 
 good presents on it, and then went into the darkened 
 dining-room to have snapdragon.
 
 DICK'S UNCLE. 
 
 It was while the boys, with bursts of laughter, were 
 dashing at the burning plums that a very loud rap at the 
 door startled them. 
 
 "What a bore!" muttered Dick; "our fun is not over, 
 and there is somebody 'grown-up' come ! " 
 
 The parents of the children had been invited at ten. 
 
 But soon he heard his father's voice in the hall, ex- 
 claiming, "My dear Tom ! I had no idea you had arrived." 
 
 " It is Uncle Tom ! " cried little Edith. " Oh, Dick, it 
 is Uncle Tom come from India ! " 
 
 And it was indeed Dr. Lovelace's only brother who 
 had arrived. 
 
 " My dear Tom," said the doctor, " we are delighted to 
 see you ; but where are i\Iary and her girl ? " 
 
 " I have left them at Dover," he said ; " they were 
 tired, having only just landed, but they will be here the 
 day after to-morrow. I could not resist the temptation 
 of running off by m}'sclf, in time to keep Christmas willi 
 you once more. It was too long a journey for ]\Iary 
 without rest, you see. She has Beatrice with her, whom 
 we have taken now from her Brussels school." 
 
 Beatrice was ]\Ir. Lovelace's step-daughter ; he had 
 married a widow with one child. 
 
 The boys went in to supper, and there they saw the 
 doctor's brother, a tall powerful-looking man of about 
 forty-five. 
 
 After supper the boys went home, declaring that they 
 had spent ajdclightful evening. 
 
 Harold did not see Dick again after this entertain- 
 ment for some days. Then Dick came over to the 
 Raven's Nest, and was w'elcomed with great glee bj' his 
 friend. Dick was full of importance ; he had a great 
 piece of news to tell. 
 
 4
 
 26 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " What do you think, Harold ? " he said. " Uncle Tom 
 has asked my father to let me go back with him to India. 
 I shall be fifteen on New Year's Day, and he says I shall 
 be of great use to him in Assam, and he will teach me 
 himself for a year or two, and provide for me as a son. 
 At first my mother did not like the idea ; but father 
 talked her over, because he says it is a good thing for me. 
 You see, when Edward comes back from walking the 
 hospitals and passing his exams., he is to be father's as- 
 sistant, and by-and-bye his partner ; and father thinks it 
 would be better for me to give up studying medicine and 
 take to tea cultivating, especially as Uncle Tom is a very 
 rich man already. So I shall go v/ith him." 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! " said Harold, " it is really dreadful for me 
 to be left alone so. I am glad for your sake, old fellow, 
 that you are going, but what shall I do without you .'' " 
 
 " I would ask Uncle Tom to take you also," said Dick, 
 "if you were not such a grandee. But the heir of Raven's 
 Nest can't go out to work in India, as I must." 
 
 Harold groaned. 
 
 " I hate being Uncle Jasper's heir," he said ; " but 
 there 's no helping it, unless I ran away. Dick, if I follow 
 you some day to India, will you be glad to see me .'' " 
 
 "Rather!" said Dick; "shouldn't I about, Harold! 
 But don't run away — there 's something sneaking in that." 
 
 " I won't if I 'm not driven to it, Dick, but I may be, 
 for Uncle Jasper gets more miserly every day, and if I 
 didn't fish and shoot well, poor Mrs. Brown and I should 
 be starved." 
 
 "It's an awful shame of him," said Dick; "but you 
 need never starve; you can always dine with us if you 
 like." 
 
 That afternoon, after Dick had left him, Harold got
 
 DICK'S UNCLE. 27 
 
 out an atlas and a fevv^ works on geography, i-n order to 
 find out to what kind of a place Dick was bound. He 
 found that Assam is a province of British India, consisting 
 of the upper valleys of the Brahmaputra. It is bounded 
 on the north by the sub-Himalayan ranges, and on the 
 east by the unexplored forests and mountains which sepa- 
 rate British India from Northern Burmah ; on the south 
 by the hills inhabited by the Nagas, Jaintiyas, and Kha- 
 sias, which separate Assam from Silkct ; and on the west 
 by the Garo hills and Kuch Behar. And he read also 
 that the land was beautiful, and full of elephants, tigers, 
 rhinoceroses, and all kinds of wild beasts, and he wished 
 he were going with Dick to hunt the tiger in his native 
 jungle. But what was the use of wishing? 
 
 Nevertheless, Harold wished it more and more when 
 he knew the Lovelaces better, and he now often met 
 them when spending a day with Dick. They liked the 
 miser-baronet's poor young nephew, and were very good 
 to him. Mr, Lovelace was a clever man, with much 
 energy and decision of character ; Mrs. Lovelace a kind 
 motherly woman ; and Beatrice Seaforth (her daughter) 
 a merry, good-natured girl of seventeen. That winter 
 was the happiest Harold had ever spent ; but, like all 
 pleasant things, it came to an end at last. 
 
 Spring brought its sunshine and showers, and its violets 
 and May blossoms, and the time had come when the 
 Lovelaces must start on the European tour they intended 
 to take before they returned to India. They spoke of 
 visiting Paris, Florence, Rome, Naples, and even Sicily. 
 
 And Dick informed Harold that he meant to go up 
 Vesuvius and Etna, and visit all the wonders of the 
 Mediterranean. He promised to write to Harold and 
 tell him of everything he saw worth describing ; but
 
 28 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Harold was destined soon to know that Dick's descriptive 
 powers were very limited, and that when he said a place 
 was "very jolly" or "awfully dull," he had come to the 
 end of his description. Of this, however, at that time 
 n iither of them was aware. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace left for the Continent with his wife and 
 her daughter in May, and Dick as arranged accompanied 
 them. He found it a severe wrench when the moment 
 came for saying good bye to his father and mother and 
 Harold, but he thought it manly not to show what he 
 felt too much, and therefore parted with his family with 
 tolerable composure. 
 
 His uncle took him with him to London to fit him out, 
 
 and Dick wrote from thence to Harold, who had thus a 
 
 first specimen of Dick's powers of description. This was 
 
 the note : — 
 
 "Grand Hotel, May 15th. 
 
 " Dear Harold, — We got here all right. London is 
 not so fine a place as I thought it was, but it is very large, 
 and I don't think I could find my way well in many parts 
 of it. We went to the Tower yesterday ; I liked it 
 very much — it is very jolly. At night we went to the 
 play ; it was Hamlet, and Irving acted. We went too to 
 Westminster Abbey; there are a good many tombs there. 
 I hope you are quite well. Write to me soon. Yours 
 affectionately, "Richard Lovelace." 
 
 This \Q\y jejune epistle from merry Dick rather disap- 
 pointed Harold, who had expected a very different kind 
 of letter; but he was glad to hear from his friend anyhow, 
 and besides, the letter contained a capital photograph of 
 Richard, who took very well. 
 
 That summer was almost intolerable to Harold. There
 
 DTCl^'S UNCLE. 29 
 
 was no shooting, no more friends to meet and talk with ; 
 nothing but to sit by the stream fishing, and dream all 
 sorts of vague sweet daydreams. 
 
 Sir Jasper only saw his nephew at dinner, and that 
 meal was always a purgatorial time for the boy. He was 
 checked in his healthy hunger; scolded for faults real or 
 imaginary ; reminded constantly of his dependence, and 
 reproached for his ingratitude. Some people would have 
 said " he led the life of a dog," but in fact few dogs are 
 not happier, and at length the fretted spirit yielded to 
 temptation, and Harold resolved, if possible, to go out 
 into the world and earn his bread. 
 
 With these thoughts in his head he asked Dr. Lovelace 
 one day to give him five pounds. The doctor demurred 
 for a moment. 
 
 "It is a large sum for a boy," he said ; "what do you 
 want with it, Harold ? " 
 
 Harold truthfully declared lh:t he wanted new books 
 and many other things. 
 
 " I will not ask for any more this year if you will let 
 me have this at once," he said. 
 
 "And this is August," said the doctor. "The intercut 
 of your three hundred pounds — wc have spent fifty 
 pounds, you know — is, at five per cent., fifteen pounds. 
 You shall have that yearly, Harold ; but you must re- 
 member yoti have to dress on it." 
 
 The doctor had invested Harold's three hun.dred pounds 
 for him. 
 
 " I will not ask for more ; but may I have five pounds 
 now .'' Indeed, I will not waste it." 
 
 Dr. Lovelace was persuaded, and gave Harold the sum 
 for which he asked. As Harold took it, with cagrcr 
 thanks, the good doctor thought,
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " The lad has some khid action in view, I am 
 certain." 
 
 Alas ! he little guessed the real motive of Harold's 
 insistance. 
 
 
 M:^mm-<ii;e!XJ:^;?p^^:i:i^K^M
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RUNNING AWAY. 
 
 AROLD had made up his mind to run away, and, 
 if possible, go to sea. He would be a cabin- 
 boy even, he thought, if they would not take 
 him as a seaman. He must, therefore, escape to a sea- 
 port. Pengarven was only a fishing town and watering- 
 place : Falmouth naturally occurred to him. But if Sir 
 Jasper did seek after him, which he rather doubted, he 
 would be sought there first of all ; so after many reflec- 
 tions Harold decided that he would have a better chance 
 to be taken on board a merchant ship than a Queen's 
 ship, and that therefore London would be the most 
 desirable place for him to fly to. 
 
 He examined his wardrobe (Dr. Lovelace had pro- 
 vided him x^vith a pretty fair one, as to quantity and 
 quality); he collected his few treasures; the small writing- 
 case, which had been Ella Mordaunt's birthday gift ; his 
 knife, the parting present of Dick, for which the super- 
 stitious Cornish boy had insisted on Harold's paying him 
 a halfpenny; his mother's likeness, which he hung by a 
 cord round his neck; and a small Bible and Prayer Book 
 hat the clergyman had given him at his confirmation. 
 All these he packed up with his clothes in a little old 
 portmanteau which he found in the lumber-room, where, 
 
 31
 
 32 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 also, he discovered a heavy oaken stick with a massive 
 silver head and point: this he also appropriated. Then 
 he wrote a letter to Sir Jasper, telling him that he was 
 tired of his idle life at home, and had set out to seek his 
 fortune. He thanked his uncle for the shelter he had 
 given to his helpless boyhood ; said he hoped never to 
 do anything which could disgrace the name he bore, and 
 wished him farewell. 
 
 These preparations made, he was ready to depart. 
 
 He rose on the fateful morning at the first dawn of 
 day, stole down to the larder and found some bread, and 
 took a drink of milk in the dairy; then he was ready 
 to depart. He threw his small portmanteau over his 
 shoulder and prepared to start. In order to make as little 
 noise as possible, he opened a window of the library and 
 got out that way ; then passing swiftly across the ill- 
 kept lawn, he was soon concealed from view by the thick 
 trees. He had determined not to go into the town, where 
 he was so well known, and from whence he might be so 
 easily traced, but to walk on to the next railway station 
 along the cliffs — the line ran nearly parallel to the sea 
 for a little while— and then he would cut across country 
 to the station. 
 
 The woods on that August morning were in their ripe 
 beauty and perfection. The dew lay like diamond drops 
 on the grass and leaves ; the soft coo of the wood-pigeon 
 stole on the air. He walked for nearly a mile through 
 the extensive grounds which were on that sideof his uncle's 
 property, and came out at last on the top of the cliffs. 
 
 There lay the sea, with the rising sun just painting an 
 edge of rose and gold on the horizon where it met the 
 sky. Harold's heart rejoiced. 
 
 " Soon," he thought, " I shall be afloat on those glo-
 
 RUNNING AWAY. 
 
 rious waves. Why do people say that boys can't find 
 work when there is the glorious life of a sailor always 
 open to them ? " 
 
 Alas ! poor Harold had little idea of the life of a mer- 
 chant seaman. Had he become one, as he wished, he 
 would have found himself sadly unfitted for so rude a 
 life. But Fate, or rather Providence, had something 
 better in store for him. However, with pleasing hopes 
 he went on, singing blithely as he walked. He had 
 achieved nearly three parts of his way to the station now, 
 and leaving the cliffs, he plunged into one of those long 
 West-country lanes which appear to have no ending. It 
 went on in a straight line for a long way, then it wound 
 round nearly at right angles to its former course. It was 
 shaded by trees, Vv'hich just now were in their richest 
 foliage, and being chiefly limes, gave forth a sweet fresh 
 perfume. Harold had ceased singing ; the swinging pace 
 he was now walking at did not permit vocal amusements. 
 
 He was advancing silently and swiftly round the curve 
 of the lane, when he perceived a gentleman a few paces 
 off defending himself with a broken umbrella against 
 two footpads. In a moment Harold threw down his 
 portmanteau, seized his stick, and dashed forward to the 
 stranger's aid^. Harold was, like most Cornish lads, clever 
 at singlestick. The silver-headed stick was a formidable 
 weapon in his hands, and with it at a blow he laid one 
 of the footpads on the earth. 
 
 The other man instantly turned on him with a cudgel, 
 but Harold parried the awkward blow easily, and then 
 rapidly hit the fellow on the wrist, causing him to drop 
 his cudgel. The gentleman then resumed beating him 
 with the broken umbrella, and a second blow from Harold 
 settled the matter. The villain growled an oath, and 
 
 5
 
 34 JV^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 sprang through a gap in the hedge, leaving his fallen 
 companion. 
 
 Harold lifted both their cudgels from the ground, and 
 said to the stranger, 
 
 " If you will hold these sticks, I will tie this rascal's 
 hands and feet ; I have some cord in my pocket that I 
 did not use for my portmanteau when I was packing up. 
 One always wants string, you know," he added, like a 
 true boy. 
 
 The stranger smiled and took the cudgels. 
 
 " A thousand thanks, my brave lad ! " he said. 
 
 And the boy at once set about his task, tying the still 
 unconscious ruffian's wrists and ankles firmly together. 
 
 " He can do no more harm, now," the boy said, as he 
 rose from his knees, 
 
 " No ; you have secured him well. We can send the 
 police back for him. We had better get on ourselves, 
 lest the other fellow returns ; he may have associates in 
 the neighbourhood. I think I owe my life to you, young 
 gentleman, for I was nearly powerlesss, having one arm 
 broken." 
 
 Harold then saw that the unknown's left arm hung 
 down useless by his side. 
 
 " They have broken your arm ! " he exclaimed, 
 
 "Yes; I had to use both arms in defending myself 
 from the double attack ; and the fellow who fled struck 
 me a tremendous blow on my left arm." 
 
 " I will just run back for my portmanteau," said 
 Harold, " and then I will help you at once." 
 
 And he swiftly flew back for his portmanteau, and 
 then returning, offered the rescued man his arm. 
 
 *' No, thank you ! " he said. " You are sufficiently 
 weighted ; and we shall get on faster apart. I can sup-
 
 7? UNNING AWAY. 35 
 
 port my arm on the cudgels. But we must keep our eyes 
 occasionally behind us to see that we are not followed. 
 It was lucky, though, that your Cornish thieves are not 
 garotters. And, now," he added, as they went on, " let 
 me thank you again, my brave lad, for my life. Those 
 rascals had much the better of me, and would no doubt 
 have killed me, had you not come so gallantly to the 
 rescue. Your skill ^^•ith a stick is remarkable ! " 
 
 " Oh, all Cornishmen know how to use a stick or 
 cudgel," said Harold. 
 
 " So it appears," said the stranger, " I have had proof 
 of it to-day. Well, I thank you sincerely, and I hope I 
 may be able to show you that I am not ungrateful." 
 
 Harold answered by a bright smile. 
 
 The stranger, a good judge of character, was struck by 
 the open frank face, the brave eyes, and sweet mouth. 
 
 "Are you bound," he asked Harold, "like myself, to 
 the station ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the boy, " I am going to London." 
 
 "And I was, but my broken arm will, I fear, delay 
 me," said the stranger. 
 
 Then they sank into silence, for Harold saw, from his 
 excessive pafcness and the way in which he bit his lip, 
 that the unknown was suffering greatl}'. He took quite 
 a fancy to this tall stately gentleman, who bore pain 
 so pluckily, and he would not trouble him by talking 
 to him. They were not followed, and by-and-bye they 
 saw the station rising from above the trees.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE AT AN HOTEL. 
 
 HEY had reached at last the Httlc inn which 
 stood just outside the station of Clovernook, 
 and the traveller, who was now beginning to 
 feel faint from the pain of his arm, was glad to enter it 
 and ask for a bed-room. Harold then ran off to find a 
 surgeon, and was not long in perceiving a brass plate on 
 the paling in front of a house in the high street of the 
 little town, bearing the name of Dr. Jones. He rapped 
 at the door, and asked for the doctor. Luckily, he was 
 at home, and at once accompanied the lad back to the 
 Red Lion. 
 
 They found the stranger, looking pale and faint, lying 
 on a couch in his own room. The doctor, who had heard 
 from Harold as they walked back the circumstances of 
 the case, after a brief greeting cut open the sleeve of the 
 patient and examined the arm. It was badly broken • 
 but he quickly and deftly set it, and bound it up. Then 
 he ordered Harold to ring for a little brandy and water, 
 which he administered to the injured man. 
 
 "You will have to go to bed now," he said, "and I 
 will send Mrs. Gill, the landlady, to attend on you. You 
 will find her a good nurse, and a kind pleasant homely 
 woman." 
 
 SO
 
 Ay ADVEXTURE AT AN HOTEL. 37 
 
 " Thank you," said the stranger ; " but my servant is 
 by this time waiting for me inside the station with my 
 higgage : he was to meet me here. Will you kindly send 
 for him? — Sir Henry Dunmore's man, please. He will 
 do all that I require." 
 
 The doctor assented, and took his leave, promising to 
 call again in an hour or two. 
 
 "This is a very tiresome accident," said Sir Henry to 
 Harold, when they were again alone ; " for I had busi- 
 ness of importance to transact in London this afternoon; 
 and I fear your kind attention to me has caused you also 
 to lose your train." 
 
 "Oh ! I am not tied to time at all," said Harold ; "and 
 I am very glad I came up in time to help you." 
 
 " You saved my life," said Sir Henry, " by your courage 
 and skill at singlestick. I am under the greatest obliga- 
 tion to you, and, as to confer a favour on a person is 
 generally an encouragement to him to ask anotlicr, I 
 mean to request your assistance a second time." 
 
 "Anything I can do for you I will," said Plarold, who 
 had taken a great fancy to the stately pleasant man whom 
 he had save^. 
 
 "Then, first, will you tell me your name?'' 
 
 Harold flushed. 
 
 " Call me Peter Wilklns," he said. 
 
 "Or Robinson Crusoe !" laughed his new friend. " That 
 is not your real name, my young friend. But it is not so 
 long ago since I too loved the hero of those marvellous 
 adventures." 
 
 Harold looked confused and vexed. 
 
 " It is not my real name," he said ingenuously, after an 
 
 awkward pause ; " but I mean to use it till I can retake 
 
 . my own. I am going into the world, Sir Henry, with
 
 3^ JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 five sovereigns for my sole fortune, and as I must 
 probably begin life as a ship-boy, I mean to be called 
 Wilkins till I have retaken my own name under other 
 circumstances." 
 
 "Well," said Sir Henry, "I have no right to intrude 
 on your confidence ; so, Mr, Peter Wilkins, the favour I 
 
 have to ask you is, will you go to the Bank for me 
 
 — to the branch, I mean — in the High Street, Kensing- 
 ton ; get a package of papers for me that I have left 
 there; and, if your time permits you, bring them back to 
 me here ? Of course, I shall pay all your expenses — 
 you can keep your own fortune" — smiling — "intact; and 
 I want to see you again before you ship as a cabin-boy. 
 The papers, I may as well tell you, are of the greatest 
 importance, and I wish to have them in my own hands 
 immediately. Will you do this for m.e ? " 
 
 "I shall be very happy," said Harold, " to do it." 
 
 Sir Henry's servant at this moment entered, looking 
 agitated and concerned, and full of exclamations of dis- 
 may at his employer's misfortune. He was a highly 
 respectable-looking valet, but Harold, glancing at his 
 face, thought he had a sly, furtive look. Sir Henry or- 
 dered him to bring him pen, ink, and paper, and at the 
 same time to order breakfast for the young gentleman, 
 " who was his guest," and Harold was very glad to ac- 
 cept the hospitality thus tendered him, and enjoyed im- 
 mensely the capital meal which the valet had ordered to 
 be served up for him. 
 
 He had just concluded a rather remarkably good 
 breakfast, when Saunders appeared with Sir Henry's 
 compliments, and would Mr. Wilkins go up to him when 
 he had finished. Harold ran off at once. 
 
 Sir Henry had a letter in his hand.
 
 AN ADVENTURE AT AN HOTEL. 39 
 
 " This," said he, " is my order to the manager of the 
 bank to give the package up to you. Be sure you take 
 care of it, Peter, for the fortunes of an orphan boy depend 
 on it, and there is a person who would be too glad to 
 abstract it from safe keeping." 
 
 Harold took the letter, put it in his pocket, and pro- 
 mised to be very careful, 
 
 "You will arrive now in town after the banks are shut," 
 went on Sir Henry, "so you must go to an hotel — the 
 Charing Cross I think would be best for you. Dine and 
 slee^D there. Of course you will take a cab from Waterloo 
 Station to it, and from it to the bank. Be sure to take 
 cabs everywhere, in short, or you may get lost, which I 
 charge you not to do ; and here is a ten-pound note, my 
 dear lad, for your expenses." 
 
 "Won't that be too much.'" asked Harold. 
 
 " No. Your first-class journeyings there and back, 
 your hotel, and cabs will exhaust it, I fancy. When 
 does the next train go ? " 
 
 "At one-thirty," replied Harold. 
 
 " Then you have no time to spare. Good bye." 
 
 And they shook hands. 
 
 Harold found the landlady in the bar downstairs 
 speaking to the barmaid. He asked her if he might 
 leave his portmanteau with her ; and borrowed of her a 
 black travelling-bag, in which he deposited his brushes 
 and night-linen. Then he crossed the road to the 
 station. 
 
 This journey was actually the first the poor lad ]:ad 
 taken, and he enjoyed it immensely. He never wearied 
 of looking out of the window at the lovely country the 
 train passed through, and with his usual poetical enthu- 
 siasm murmured to himself, —
 
 4d WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 " Where 's the coward that would not dare 
 To die for such a land ? " 
 
 The entrance into London was rather bewilderhig to 
 the country boy ; but he soon secured a cab, and was 
 speedily deposited at the Charing Cross Hotel. Here he 
 ordered dinner at once in the coffee-room, and told the 
 Avaiter he should want a bed. 
 
 Seated at one of the small tables, he amused himself, 
 while waiting for his dinner to be brought, by looking 
 about him at the novel scene. At length a gentleman 
 seated at the next small table, and facing him, attracted 
 his especial attention by his disagreeable likeness to 
 Sir Henry Dunmore. He had much the same air and 
 features, but a heavy frown rested on his brow, and his 
 eyes were fierce, and even cruel — though, like Sir Henry's, 
 they were blue and his hair fair. The gentleman seemed 
 uneasy ; he watched the door as if expecting some one 
 to enter, and once left his place and the room, returning 
 in a few moments, looking vexed and irritated. 
 
 Dinner over and paid for, and the waiter rather liberally 
 " tipped," our young hero thought he would like a turn 
 in the lighted-up Strand before he went to bed, and 
 asked the waiter if he could be shown to his room, that 
 he might leave his travelling-bag there. The man at 
 once complying with his request, transferred him to an- 
 other attendant outside the room, and Harold was shown 
 upstairs to a handsome bed-room on an upper floor. 
 Here he deposited his bag, and then ran downstairs, 
 eager to get a glimpse of long-dreamed-of London. You 
 may imagine the wonder and amusement of a lad who 
 had lived such a recluse life in Cornwall at finding him- 
 self in that magnificent street, with lights wherever a 
 theatre stood, and noisy with the roll of omnibuses and
 
 AN ADVENTURE AT AN HOTEL. 41 
 
 cabs ! He longed to go into one of the theatres, but 
 resisted the temptation (though he knew well that there 
 he could not lose his way), because he did not wish to 
 diminish his small property, even by a shilling; and Sir 
 Henry's money was, of course, only a trust. After a 
 time he returned to the hotel, and asked the porter where 
 the Embankment was, as he had a great desire to see it. 
 He was directed down Villicrs Street, and assured that 
 he could not lose his way ; but that he had better not 
 linger long by the river, as it was late for the Embank- 
 ment. 
 
 " And you 'd best not go farther than Cleopatra's 
 Needle, sir," said the man, patronizingly, " for there are 
 very rough customers on the H embankment by this 
 time." 
 
 " Oh, I shall take my stick," said Harold, with a laugh. 
 And he ran off on his intended walk. 
 
 The Embankment was soon reached, and the lad stood 
 by the wall looking over at the rolling river and its re- 
 flected rows i)f lights, which, he thought, it was worth 
 coming from Cornwall to see. There seemed very few 
 people here, and Harold liked the quiet, and, leaning 
 against the wall, stood listening to the lapping of the 
 water against the stone. 
 
 By-and-bye two people in earnest conversation ap- 
 proached the spot where he stood. As they passed him 
 he heard these words spoken in French in a low but very 
 distinct voice, — 
 
 " I have succeeded. It was a risk, for Dunmore " 
 
 Then tlie strangers passed on, but Harold, at hearing 
 his new friend's name, turned and looked after the speaker. 
 He felt convinced that he was the very man who had sat 
 opposite to him at dinner, and he felt a vague uneasiness. 
 
 6
 
 42 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Sir Henry had told him to be carcfal, for some one wanted 
 the papers. Did this man mean that he had been suc- 
 cessful in getting them ? However, he (Harold) could 
 do nothing, and after a short pause he returned to the 
 hotel, and meeting his friend the waiter, asked him if he 
 knew the name of the gentleman who had dined at the 
 next table to himself. 
 
 "That, sir," was the reply, "that was Sir Henry Dun- 
 more. His bed-room adjoins yours; I took his bag up 
 for him just now." 
 
 "Sir Henry Dunmore !" exclaimed Harold. "Why, 
 he is now in Cornwall." 
 
 " No, sir, I think not. This gent calls himself Sir 
 Henry Dunmore." 
 
 Some one called the waiter at this moment, and he 
 hurried away, 
 
 Harold was greatly perplexed. Could there be two 
 Sir Henry Dunmores? It was unlikely. He began to 
 fear some swindling was going on, but felt too sleepy 
 after his long day of excitement to think much about it, 
 and mounted to his bed-room, resolving to go to bed and 
 see what could be done in the morning. 
 
 On entering his room he lifted the black bag he had 
 borrowed from the floor, and opened it to take out his 
 brushes and night-gear. To his amazement they were 
 not to be found there ; the bag contained only a comb, a 
 razor, and a package of papers. As he lifted the latter 
 out in perplexity, to see if an}'thing was underneath, a 
 cover fell off it, and he saw written in large clear letters, 
 
 " Package of papers belonging to Sir Henry Dunmore, 
 left at Bank. July 20." 
 
 He could scarcely believe his eyes. Then suddenly he 
 went out and looked at the number of the door. It was
 
 AN ADVENTURE AT AN HOTEL. 43 
 
 50 — his own was 51'.- The sharp boy saw at once that 
 he had blundered on a " find " of great importance. This 
 was the sham Sir Henry's room : he had somehow got 
 out of the bank the very package for which Harold had 
 come to London ! There was not a minute to lose : he 
 must carry them away at once, before the robber came 
 back ; but not to his own room. The man might, na}', 
 was sure to miss his packet, and would demand a search: 
 the papers would be taken from Harold, if found in his 
 possession ; he might even be accused of robbery him- 
 self, and in any way would lose the package. He thought 
 and acted with lightning speed. He shut the bag, put the 
 packet in his bosom, and ran downstairs at full speed. 
 
 "Supper or tea, sir?" asked the waiter, meeting him 
 at their foot. 
 
 " Get me some tea," said Harold. " Same table : I am 
 just going out." 
 
 And he flew out into the Strand. There, by a happy 
 chance, he saw a Kensington omnibus standing by the 
 pavement : Ire jumped in at once. 
 
 "Put me down in Kensington High Street," he said. 
 And the ponderous vehicle moved off. 
 
 He sat in a perfect ferment of thought, revolving what 
 he should do. He would get a bed at some inn, and go 
 to the bank early in the morning and find out if the 
 papers really had been stolen or not. If not, he must 
 send back those he possessed, at once to the Charing 
 Cross Hotel. If these were the right ones required by 
 Sir Henry, he would tell no one that he had them, but 
 return at once to his friend, and send up to the hotel the 
 sum owing for his bed and untasted tea, and claim his 
 own bag. 
 
 The omnibus put him out at last, and weary and dazed,
 
 44 
 
 n^E THREE BOYS. 
 
 the poor boy, carefully holding his precious bag, found 
 a small inn, where he engaged a bed-room. It was not 
 hke the hotel, but his bed was clean and fresh, and, with 
 the package under his pillow, he soon fell into a profound 
 slumber. 

 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IIAUOLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGE?^. 
 
 AROLD did not wake till late the next morning, 
 and when he had had breakfast he saw that it 
 was close on the hour of the bank's opening. 
 He therefore proceeded thither at once. He delivered 
 Sir Henry's letter to a clerk, who took it to the manager, 
 and in a few minutes returned, looking troubled. 
 
 "Will you walk this way?" he said, and led Harold 
 to the manager's office. He (the manager) was seated, 
 and holding Sir Henry's letter in his hand. 
 
 " From whom did you receive this letter .-' " he asked 
 Harold. 
 
 "From Sir Henry Dunmore," was the reply. 
 
 " But Sir Henry sent for the papers yesterday," said 
 the manager, "and they were given up to him." 
 
 Harold at once saw that he had done right, and had 
 been very lucky. 
 
 " Sir Henry Dunmore," he said, " was on his way to 
 London yesterday, when he was, while walking to the 
 station, attacked by footpads, and had his arm broken. 
 He is lying at the Railway Inn, Clovernook, now, and 
 has sent me on for the papers," 
 
 " A very roundabout story," said the manager, sarcas- 
 
 45
 
 46 IVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 tically ; " Sir Henry Dunmore is staying, or, rather, was 
 staying, at Charing Cross Hotel. He was not to leave 
 it, I believe, till last night, so how could he be in Corn- 
 wall ? Sit down, young man," to Harold, who flushed 
 with passion, " sit down ; and )'ou, Mr. White," to the 
 clerk, '■' send Mr. Jones to me." 
 
 Harold burst forth indignantly, " Do you take me for 
 an impostor ? " 
 
 " I don't know what you are yet," said the manager, 
 rudely, " we shall soon see." 
 
 In a few moments Mr. Jones, a grave, sensible-looking 
 man, made his appearance. 
 
 The manager opened a drawer in his writing-table, 
 took out a note, and gave it, with the one Harold had 
 brought, to Mr. Jones. 
 
 " You are an expert, or nearly so," he said, " at hand- 
 writings. Which of those notes is a forgery.? " 
 
 The clerk put on his spectacles and examined them 
 carefully, 
 
 "You know Sir Henry's hand?" queried the manager. 
 
 "Yes, sir, very well. This is his writing," giving the 
 note Harold had brought to the manager; "the other is 
 a wonderfully good forgery." 
 
 The manager looked greatly annoyed. 
 
 "You know Sir Henry personally, do you not?" he 
 asked of Mr. Jones. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; when he is in Kensington he is often here." 
 
 " Send off a messenger — no, go yourself to Charing 
 Cross Hotel and ask if Sir Henry Dunmore is there still, 
 and see him. You will wait here," he added to Harold, 
 "till this gentleman returns." 
 
 "You have no right to detain me," said the boy in- 
 dignantly.
 
 HAROLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGER. 47 
 
 ) " I have the right to give you to the pohcc on sus- 
 picion of fraud," repHcd the manager spitefully. 
 
 " Your own clerk tells you that the letter I have 
 brought is genuine," said Harold, "and the other a 
 forgery," 
 
 " He thinks so ; I mean to make sure," was the reply. 
 "Remain where you are, or I shall send for the police." 
 
 And the manager resumed his previous employment. 
 Harold felt that it would be wiser to wait where he was. 
 If he attempted to get off he would be easily caught and 
 brought back, and the name of the police terrified the 
 country boy ; but he sat in a state of great uneasiness. 
 
 If the robber had missed the papers he (Harold) would 
 be sure to be suspected of taking them ; both from his 
 flight and from his room being close to the sham Sir 
 Henry's ; and they would be taken from him. The mo- 
 ments seemed hours to the poor lad. He asked once if 
 he might telegraph to Sir Henry, or if the manager 
 would, but received a flat refusal to both requests. The 
 fact was, the manager expected to get into trouble, and 
 was consequently in the worst of tempers. 
 
 At last Mr. Jones returned. 
 
 "Sir Henry Dunmore," he said, "had left the hotel 
 the previous evening by the last train to Dover." 
 
 The manager looked still more worried. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Jones," he said, " it would be best for you 
 to accompany this young gentleman," with a sneer at the 
 word, " to Clovernook, and see if you or I am right about 
 the letters. At any rate, it is the thing to do. We must 
 discover and punish the perpetrator of the forgery, which- 
 ever it may be." 
 
 Mr. Jones agreed that it would be the best course to 
 adopt.
 
 48 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 "And if you will excuse me, sir," he said, " I think it 
 would be as well to set a detective on the track of the 
 Sir Henry who left Charing Cross with a friend — aFrench- 
 man — last night. He 7uay be the guilty party." 
 
 *' I will send for one at once," said his superior. " Go 
 and dine with this young lad at the railway station, and 
 then take the earliest train to Cornwall. Here is a cheque 
 for your expenses, which the bank pays." 
 
 Harold rose with a thankful heart to accompany Mr. 
 Jones to the station and to luncheon, for it was now one 
 o'clock. 
 
 You will wonder, perhaps, why Harold, having the 
 package in his own possession, should allow the manager 
 to take so much trouble about it ; why he did not at 
 once tell the story of his recovery of the papers. Well, 
 it was partly that he did not want to give up the papers 
 to any one but Sir Henry, and partly because he had a 
 boy's love of fun and mischief, and he thought it only 
 a fair return for the rudeness with which he had been 
 treated, to give the bank the expense and trouble of their 
 clerk's railway journey into Cornwall. So without a word 
 about his precious packet, he drove with Mr. Jones to 
 Waterloo Station, and was soon on his return journey to 
 Clovernook. 
 
 The clerk learned in handwritings was quite convinced 
 that Harold was the real messenger, and therefore behaved 
 with great kindness to the lad. 
 
 " I had a holiday yesterday," he said ; " if I had been 
 at the bank, the bearer of that letter would never have 
 succeeded in getting Sir Henry's papers. It is a serious 
 thing having lost them, as they were, I believe, highly 
 important." 
 
 They did not arrive at Clovernook till about nine
 
 HAROLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGER. 49 
 
 o'clock, but Sir Henry had not gone to bed. He had 
 been lying on a sofa in a sitting-room next his bed-room 
 all day, and was rather surprised that Harold had not 
 arrived earlier. 
 
 Harold thought Sir Henry looked pale and ill when 
 they were shown into his room by Saunders. He (Sir 
 Henry) was very much surprised when he saw the bank 
 clerk, whom he knew at once, with Harold, and he 
 listened to his explanation of why he came there, and 
 examined the note which he showed him, with an expres- 
 sion on his countenance of absolute dismay. 
 
 " It is a fatal loss, I fear," he said, " Mr. Jones. The 
 welfare of a young ward of mine is most seriously com- 
 promised by it." 
 
 "We are extremely sorry," began poor Mr. Jones, "it 
 is a great misfortune for the bank also ; but we have sent 
 a detective after the sham Sir Henry, and we will spare 
 no efforts to recover the papers." 
 
 Sir Henry flushed so painfully and looked so distressed 
 now that Harold would no longer suffer him to feel 
 anxiety. He drew the packet from his bosom, and said, 
 
 "Are these the lost papers, Sir Henry?" 
 
 The baronet took them, glanced at them, and uttered 
 a suppressed exclamation of thankfulness. 
 
 " They are all right ! " he exclaimed, examining them ; 
 " but, my dear boy, where did you get them ? " 
 
 Harold related his adventures since they parted, clearly 
 and simply ; how he had overheard those few words on 
 the Embankment, and afterwards found and secured the 
 papers from the sham Sir Henry's bag. 
 
 " You are as ready and shrewd as you are brave and 
 lucky," said Sir Henry, "for it was great luck — and yet, no ! 
 surely I ought to say Providence — which guided you into 
 
 7
 
 50 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 the wrong room. Two bags exactly like and a mistaken 
 door have done a great good. I have no doubt the robber 
 had left his bag in his room while having an interview 
 with his accomplice, and you mistook his room for your 
 own — so far it was luck, or Providence ; but }our decision 
 and rapidity of action saved the papers. You have again 
 greatly obliged me." 
 
 " But," said Mr. Jones sharply, " I should like to know 
 why this young gentleman, having the papers in his pos- 
 session, did not at once make the matter clear by showing 
 them, and thus save the bank the expense and me the 
 trouble of a long journey ? " 
 
 "Yes, Wilkins, why have you kept it secret till this 
 minute?" asked Sir Henry, laughing. "Was it for the 
 sake of a coup de theatre ? " 
 
 "No, indeed," said Harold, colouring. "I was afraid 
 if I said I had them the manager would have declared I 
 was a thief, and have given me to the police. He was 
 so insolent that it serves him right to have been made 
 anxious. And, Sir Henry, I wanted Mr. Jones to tell /lis 
 story first, for /le is very clever and very kind." 
 
 "Well," said Sir Henry, "that is a just excuse, and I 
 hope that Mr. Jones and his bank will forgive your trick 
 in return for our saying nothing about the fault of the 
 bank in giving up my papers on a forgery. The bank 
 may charge expenses to me." 
 
 Mr. Jones smiled assent, and then Sir Henry begged 
 that he and " Mr. Wilkins " would go and have as good 
 a dinner as the inn could produce. Over their roast 
 chicken Mr. Jones grew quite friendly with his boy com- 
 panion. 
 
 "You are some relation, I suppose, of Sir Henry's?" 
 he said to Harold.
 
 HAROLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGER. 51 
 
 "No; I am only an acquaintance. I met him yesterday 
 morning for the first time." And then Harold told the 
 story of the footpads with great glee. 
 
 "It would have been capital fun," he said, "if Sir 
 Henry had not been hurt." 
 
 " H'm ! I don't see much fun in breaking heads," said 
 Mr. Jones ; " but, do you know, I think you must be a 
 lucky boy, things have turned out so well for you ; and 
 Sir Henry will be your friend for life. He is a very 
 kind, good man, though a very eccentric one. Everybody 
 says he does things like no one else." 
 
 "I think he's a capital fellow," said Harold — "the 
 sort of man one would like to sail under. But he is not 
 in the navy, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Well, no, he is not ; but he is devoted to the sea, and 
 has a fine steam yacht of great size, I hear, in which he 
 almost lives." 
 
 " He isn't married, then .'' " asked Harold. 
 
 " No, he isn't married ; but he has a little boy on 
 board the yacht, with his nurse — a child whom he has 
 adopted, I hear ; and I suspect those papers belong to it, 
 but I don't know." 
 
 "Has he a brother?" asked Plarold, thinking of the 
 strange likeness between the sham and real Sir Henrys. 
 With great consideration, he had not mentioned this 
 likeness before the clerk, 
 
 " No ; he has no brother, but he has a first cousin, who 
 is his heir. A rather bad lot he is, too, I believe, but the 
 estates belonging to the baronetcy are entailed, and un- 
 less Sir Henry marries, he must come in for them." 
 
 " Is he like Sir Henry in face .'' " asked the boy. 
 
 " I don't know ; I never saw Mr. Giles Dunmore. The 
 baronet has only had the title a year or so. He inherited
 
 52 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 it from his cousin, the late baronet, who was also very 
 eccentric, and who scarcely ever lived in England." 
 
 The waiter appearing at this moment, Harold asked 
 him if the police had taken the footpad he had struck 
 down and bound. 
 
 " No, sir," said the man ; " when they reached the spot 
 that Sir Henry described, the man was gone, but there 
 were marks of footsteps and of a struggle. His comrades 
 had probably returned and carried him off. The police 
 are scouring the country to find the robbers." 
 
 Sir Henry sent a message just as they were ending 
 their dinner to say that he would like to see Mr. Wilkins 
 for a few minutes before he went to bed, and Harold 
 speedily obeyed the summons. Sir Henry, who had 
 retired for the night, received him with a kind smile. 
 
 " My dear boy," he said, " I sent for you that I might 
 beg you not to go away to-morrow morning till I have 
 spoken with you." 
 
 " I should not have gone away till I had seen you, 
 Sir Henry," said Harold, " for I have your change to 
 give you — here it is ; but I have not paid for the bed I 
 engaged, but did not occupy, at the hotel, nor for the 
 tea which I ordered." 
 
 And he put the change of the ten pounds into Sir 
 Henry's hand. 
 
 "You have been very economical," said Sir Henry, 
 smiling ; " I expected no change. You had better keep 
 it," offering it to him again, " to pay for your bag if you 
 don't get it again." 
 
 "Oh, no, thank you!" said Harold, flushing. "I 
 couldn't take payment. But the tea and the bed will 
 have to be paid for (no doubt you know. Sir Henry, 
 what they would be), and when you send it, you could,
 
 HAROLD PAYS OFF THE MANAGER. 53 
 
 if you please, ask them to forward Mrs. Gill's bag here. 
 My bed-room number was fifty-one." 
 
 Sir Henry looked at him earnestly. 
 
 " You are a good lad 1 " he said. " Well, I will send 
 up the money for the bed and tea, and desire that your 
 bag — if it has not been taken by mistake also — may be 
 returned. You will stay with me till it arrives?" 
 
 "Yes, if you like, Sir Henry," frankly. 
 
 " I do like very much to have you. Now go and get 
 some tea, and to bed with you ; you must be tired out." 
 
 And Harold's sleep that night was certainly of the 
 deepest. 
 
 The clerk left early the next day, but Sir Henry saw 
 him first, and induced him to undertake the payment of 
 the bed and tea, and the sending back Harold's bag — 
 which, however, never arrived. It had disappeared ; no 
 doubt the sham Sir Henry had taken it in mistake for 
 his own, having also mistaken his room, which might 
 account for his hurried departure. 
 
 Harold amused himself by fancying what the robber's 
 feelings would be when he opened the wrong bag and 
 found that he had made so fatal an exchange. 
 
 During those two days of waiting Sir Henry saw a 
 good deal of Harold. He had been convinced from the 
 first that " Peter Wilkins " was a young gentleman, and, 
 he feared, a runaway, and in some anxiety he had looked 
 carefully and daily at the Times for an advertisement for 
 "a tall, dark, gentlemanly lad," but hitherto in vain. If 
 Wilkins had fled from home, his friends had evidently no 
 wish for his return. It was when he had ceased to look 
 for it that, at last. Dr. Lovelace's advertisement appeared, 
 entreating Harold Sinclair to write to his anxious friends. 
 The appeal was signed " Dick."
 
 54 
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Neither did Harold see it, or he would have replied to 
 it at once ; he meant to write by-and-bye, but not yet. 
 
 Meantime he had grown on affectionate terms with Sir 
 Henry, and the baronet still kept his young friend with 
 him. Harold often read to him, occasionally wrote his 
 letters, and had no hesitation in remaining his guest 
 while Sir Henry so greatly needed his attentions.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A ROMANTIC STORY, 
 
 NE day, when Harold was sitting near his couch, 
 Sir Henry asked, 
 
 "What was the usurper of my name Hkc, 
 Peter ? " 
 
 " Sir Henry, he was a disagreeable likeness of your- 
 self." 
 
 " I thought so," murmured the baronet ; " but why did 
 you not tell me so before, Peter .? " 
 
 "I thought from the likeness that there might be a 
 relationship, and that you would not like Mr. Jones to 
 know it," said Harold ; " since then I have forgotten it." 
 
 "Again I am obliged," said Sir Henry; "I should not 
 have wished Jones's suspicions to be directed aright. You 
 have shown delicacy and tact, Peter, and since you are 
 so trustworthy and cautious, I mean to tell you the story 
 of the papers you saved for me. But first, will you con- 
 sent to take a voyage or two with me in my yacht as 
 midshipman } You would thus see much both of sea 
 and land, and discover whether you really like the life of 
 a seaman when you have experienced it." 
 
 " I shall be very glad to go with you, Sir Henry," de- 
 clared Harold ; "you are only too good to mc." 
 
 " Then it is settled. You are midshipman of my yacht, 
 
 55
 
 56 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 henceforward, and I hope part-guardian of a dear httle 
 boy who is on board her at this moment. Now listen to 
 my story. I succeeded to my cousin's baronetcy, estates) 
 and large personal fortune about two years ago. Shortly 
 afterwards I received a letter from Italy, from a lady who 
 declared that she was the widow of the late baronet, ray 
 cousin, imploring me to go to her at Naples. Of course 
 I obeyed the summons, and found in the hotel to which 
 she had directed me, one of the most lovely women I 
 have ever seen ; but in the last stage of consumption. 
 She told me that she was the orphan daughter of an 
 Italian professor ; she had become governess in the 
 family of a rich American, and had accompanied them 
 back to their own land. There she met my Cousin 
 Algernon, who was travelling in the States ; he fell 
 deeply in love with her, but as his father was then living, 
 and would never have consented to his marriage with a 
 poor foreigner, he persuaded her to be secretly married to 
 him in New York. She spoke very little English, and did 
 not know the name of the street or church where she had 
 been married. She left her situation soon after, and went 
 with Algernon to England. A little son was born to 
 them in London, and being a sickly baby, was baptized 
 at home soon after his birth. 
 
 " Algernon was in the Foreign Office. He soon after- 
 wards got a diplomatic appointment in Italy, and Carina 
 was happy in being thus restored to the sunshine of her 
 own land ; but she was even then in a consumption. 
 
 " About a year after their return to Italy Algernon was 
 summoned to attend his father's death-bed. He left 
 Carina, providing her with a pleasant home and a good 
 income, at Naples, and hastened to England. His father 
 died, and he was now himself a wealthy baronet. But
 
 A ROMANTIC STORY. 57 
 
 he did not instantly send for his wife and child, nor did 
 he even announce his marriage. Indeed, all through this 
 affair Algernon behaved with blamable selfishness. He 
 had persuaded Carina to act wrongly and deceitfully, as 
 well as doing so himself; and even now his thoughtless- 
 ness exposed her to great trials. Three months after his 
 father's death no one knew he was married : he remained 
 at the Hall, and even joined the hunting-field, but said 
 nothing of his wife and son. 
 
 "If (as I trust) he meant to do her tardy justice, he 
 delayed it till it was too late : he was thrown from his 
 horse while hunting, and killed on the spot. 
 
 " I succeeded him in due course. Carina, miserable at 
 not hearing from him, learned the truth by applying to 
 the English consul. She was at first overwhelmed with 
 grief, but roused herself at last for tlie sake of her boy, 
 and wrote to me. I asked her, of course, for the cer- 
 tificates of her marriage and of her boy's baptism, without 
 which I could not act for her. She had neither ; she 
 said Algernon had always kept them ; but I had found 
 nothing of the kind amongst his papers. Still, I never 
 doubted her : I felt that the dying Carina was a truthful 
 woman. 
 
 " I wrote to my lawyer, and desired that every inquiry 
 should be made for the certificates, and every place 
 searched for them at the Hall ; but they could not be 
 found. My cousin and next heir, Giles Dunmore, was 
 very angry with me for making these inquiries : he de- 
 clared that Carina was an impostor, and that she was 
 trying to impose her child on me as my cousin's heir. 
 However, I persisted in advertising for the certificates, or 
 even for any information on the subject. But none had 
 reached us when poor Carina died. I soothed her last 
 
 8
 
 58 PVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 moments by promising to adopt little Algy (whose sweet 
 face and pretty ways had won my love at once), and to 
 take care of him, even if we never recovered the papers 
 which would attest his birthright. 
 
 " But a very short time ago I received a letter from a 
 man who had been confidential valet to Alcrernon about 
 the time of the marriage. He said he had the certifi- 
 cates, and should be happy to give them up to me for 
 the reward offered — two hundred pounds. He declared 
 that his late master had given him the papers to keep 
 for him, with others ; and that when he was dismissed 
 some little time afterwards, he had taken them with him 
 by mistake. This was quite unlikely ; he had probably 
 stolen the papers, and kept them for the purpose of ulti- 
 mately being paid by some one to restore them. How- 
 ever, that was, at present, no concern of mine, nor could 
 I have proved the truth of my suspicions ; consequently 
 I told him that if he would come to my house in Ken- 
 sington, I would pay him the money, if the papers were 
 all right. 
 
 " He brought them to me. I paid him a hundred 
 pounds, and told him that he should have the remainder 
 of the reward when I had ascertained from America that 
 the certificate of marriage was genuine. He was willing 
 to consent to this. IMeantime I placed the packet of 
 
 papers in charge of the Bank, where I banked, not 
 
 having time at the moment to send or take them to my 
 family solicitor, being summoned to the supposed death- 
 bed of a dear old friend in Cornwall. But I wrote and 
 told Giles all about it, and very imprudently said, 'The 
 
 proofs are now at Bank, and I doubt not will prove 
 
 correct, though I have only had a glance at them.' I 
 was returning to London the day you saved my life —
 
 A ROMANTIC STORY. 59 
 
 first, because my friend was out of danger, and next, 
 because I had had an angry letter from Giles, in which 
 he denounced my folly, and advised me to destroy the 
 sham certificates at once, using expressions which 
 alarmed me, and made me anxious to put the certifi- 
 cates at once into my lawyer's hands, and have the 
 matter settled. 
 
 " I fear very much, Wilkins, that it was Giles who 
 personated me and got the certificates from the bank. 
 You have saved me a great deal of trouble, and perhaps 
 shame, by your speedy action. Now, I tell you this 
 story because I wish }'ou to share my care of Algy. He 
 is very delicate, and I am going to take him to the ]\Ie- 
 diterranean as soon as possible with his nurse, a faithful 
 Italian woman. When we return to England we will see 
 whether you can go to sea in the mercantile marine ; I 
 fear the navy is not possible. What do }'ou say to my 
 offer?" 
 
 Harold accepted it most thankfully. "You are only 
 too good to me, Sir Henry," he said. 
 
 But Sir Henry soon laid aside that title. He went 
 very sliorlly afterwards to London with Harold, and re- 
 mained there till his little charge's rights were established, 
 and the title and estates transferred to him. Meantime 
 Mr. Dunmore, as we must now call him, took Harold 
 to see all the wonders of London, and treated him as if 
 he had been his son, and Harold learned every day to 
 love and reverence his friend better and better. Just 
 before they left town Harold wrote to Dr. Lovelace and 
 told him of his good fortune, and that he was going to 
 sea in Mr. Dunmore's yacht. "And I really hope," he 
 added in conclusion, " that Dick and I may meet again 
 soon, for we are going to the Mediterranean because
 
 6o 
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Algy needs a warm climate. Lance's ship is there also, 
 therefore I trust ' we three ' may meet again shortly." 
 
 (He little thought how and where that triple meeting 
 would take place ! ) 
 
 "You can tell Uncle Jasper of my good fortune," went 
 on the boy's letter, " that is, if he cares to hear ; and do 
 not forget to tell kind Mrs. Mordaunt and little Ella of 
 it, and that I am always their, as well as your, affectionate 
 Harold." 
 
 " I wish Dick could write such a letter as this," said 
 Dr. Lovelace, as he finished reading the lengthy epistle 
 aloud ; " but he never will." 
 
 " No matter," said his wife ; " the days for good letter 
 writers are gone. Dick will write well enough for an age 
 of telegrams and postcards." 
 
 Dr. Lovelace shook his head. 
 
 "You are wrong, dear Nelly," he said, "and some day 
 you may find out what a valuable accomplishment good 
 letter writing is when great distances divide friends."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 
 
 R. LOVELACE had resolved after his brief visit 
 to England to travel for a short time on the 
 Continent before he returned to Assam, so Dick 
 was to have the great advantage of seeing something of 
 Europe before he commenced life as a clerk in his uncle's 
 office. He was very happy; he liked his Aunt Jane, who 
 enjoyed the fun of a merry boy, and he and Beatrice 
 got on pretty well, though sometimes she resented his 
 chaffing her for fine-lady airs and graces. She had not 
 been in India since her early childhood, having been 
 sent home for education to her mother's cousin, who 
 kept z. pension for young ladies in Brussels, from whence 
 her father and mother had taken her on their return to 
 England. She was rather pretty, very fair, with lovely 
 hair and large blue eyes, but she was by no means 
 clever, though very good-natured and affectionate. 
 
 They visited Paris, Milan, Florence, Rome, and Naples ; 
 and Dick, who was a fair classical scholar for his years, 
 and knew his Roman History, was greatly amazed at 
 his cousin's blunders in the Eternal City. 
 
 " I have heard of the Coliseum," she said to him one 
 day ; " Mrs. Waller told us once that she had been there 
 as a girl, and it was wonderful. She quite knew Paris 
 
 Cl
 
 62 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 from seeing a panorama of it there, and they had the 
 Colossus of Rhodes there, and ships in full sail passed 
 between its feet," 
 
 Dick was mystified. 
 
 "A panorama in the Coliseum?" he said. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace burst out laughing. 
 
 "My little girl, you are speaking of quite another Coli- 
 seum than that of Rome," he said. " Your cousin ought 
 to have told you that it was a place in the Regent's Park, 
 London— misnamed after the Coliseum you will see to- day. 
 Dick," he added to his nephew ; " I fear Bee does not 
 know much — you must try and teach your cousin a little." 
 
 And Dick, grateful for his uncle's kindness, brought 
 Beatrice his last prize, Arnold's " Rome," and told her it 
 would amuse her if she read it. " At least," he added, 
 " the first volume." 
 
 "'Arnold's Rome,' — who wrote it.?" asked Beatrice. 
 
 " Oh, Bee ! how can you ask } Why, Arnold, of course. 
 Don't you see it 's ' Arnold's Rome ' on the binding even ? 
 He was a capital fellow — a Rugby schoolmaster." 
 
 " Oh," said Beatrice, " I will read it, Dick, if you wish, 
 but I hate history and dates. I like novels best." 
 
 Dick made no reply; he thought Beatrice a goose. 
 But, after all, it might be the fault of those who had 
 taught her. She spoke French very well, and had a 
 smattering of Italian and German, and she sang prettily, 
 so Mrs. Lovelace was quite satisfied with her attainments. 
 And Dick did his best to rectify her blunders about 
 Rome, which were many and, to him, comical. She had 
 really no idea of chronology; and mixed up Julius Caisar, 
 with whom she had some acquaintance (as being men- 
 tioned in her History of England), with Trajan and Titus. 
 Harold, well read and with great poetical feeling, would
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 63 
 
 have been annoyed if not irritated at her ignorance, and 
 would have missed sympathy with his own feeHngs ; but 
 careless Richard Lovelace, though he liked well enough 
 to see RomC; felt no especial interest in it, and was in fact 
 glad to start for Naples, where, as they heard, Vesuvius 
 was offering the spectacle of a small eruption. 
 
 PVom beautiful Naples they passed over to Sicily, as 
 Mr. Lovelace said they ought to see the other and larger 
 volcano, and accordingly they steamed into the splendid 
 harbour of Messina on a lovely September morning about 
 six weeks after Harold had left his uncle's house. They 
 landed at once, and went to one of the best hotels, in 
 the Sicilian city. 
 
 " The signore is not our only guest," said the English- 
 speaking waiter to Mr. Lovelace, as he conducted them 
 to a suite of apartments ; " there is an English signore in 
 the rooms above these. He has his yacht in the harbour; 
 but his bambino was ill, and he has brought it on shore 
 by the doctor's advice." 
 
 The Lovelaces had on landing been struck with great 
 admiration for the fine Sicilian city, surrounded by its 
 vast fortifications ; with its noble citadel and arsenal, 
 and containing, as they knew it did, many interesting 
 monuments of antiquity. 
 
 "We have much to see in this city," said Mr. Lovelace, 
 as they sat at dinner. " I think the harbour and Pharos 
 are very fine." 
 
 "And so do I," said Mrs. Lovelace. "Beatrice and I 
 shall expect Dick to furnish us with ail the interesting 
 details he knows about it." 
 
 Dick shrugged his shoulders. " I don't know much 
 about it," he said : " you must look it up in your guide- 
 book, aunty."
 
 64 ^E THREE BO VS. 
 
 •'Shall we drive on the Corso this evening, papa?" 
 asked Beatrice. 
 
 "If you like," was the reply. And Mr. Lovelace 
 ordered a carriage. 
 
 The evening was delightful ; the cool sea-breezes came 
 in to relieve the heat of the day, and the fashionable 
 promenade called the Corso had numberless carriages 
 of all kinds driving up and down it, or standing still 
 while their occupants chatted with their friends. Sud- 
 denly Dick, who sat beside Beatrice, with his back to 
 the horses, cried out, 
 
 " Why, there 's Harold Sinclair ! How came he here ? 
 Oh, uncle ! please stop the carriage and let me get out : 
 I must speak to him ! " 
 
 Mr. Lovelace at once called to the coachman, and 
 Dick, springing out, pursued Harold through the crowd 
 of pedestrians. He was quite breathless when he came 
 up with him, gasping, " Harold ! Harold ! " 
 
 Harold turned at his name, and with a glad exclama- 
 tion of " Dick ! " the boys clasped hands. 
 
 " Who would have thought of seeing you here, Sin- 
 clair?" said Richard ; " I thought you were tied for life to 
 the Raven's Nest." 
 
 "No, I have taken flight, literally as well as figura- 
 tively," laughed Harold ; " but it is a long story. I am 
 here with a great friend, a Mr. Dunmore ; I am midship- 
 man of his yacht." 
 
 "Well, that is a lark," cried Richard. "When did 
 you enter the navy?" 
 
 " I have not entered it," said Harold. " lit. Dunmore 
 has a private yacht, with a master in the navy for his 
 captain ; so he said he wanted a second officer, and pro- 
 posed that I should go with him as such, and that Cap- 
 tain Elliot should teach me my duty."
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 65 
 
 "It's the strangest thing !" said Richard; "and did 
 Sir Jasper let you go willingly ? " 
 
 " No, indeed he didn't. The truth is, Dick, I ran away, 
 and happening to help Mr. Dunmore in a scrimmage 
 with two footpads, he has taken charge of me ever since ; 
 so if Uncle Jasper has learned from your father that I 
 am safe, it is as much as he knows. But I wrote you the 
 whole story. Didn't you get my letter?" 
 
 " No," said Richard ; " but that is not strange: we have 
 been constantly moving from place to place, but my 
 uncle has written to the Poste Restante at Rome to have 
 them forwarded. I think my father would have written 
 last there. You sent your letter through him, I suppose.-*" 
 
 " Yes. I wrote to him and enclosed a letter to you 
 just before we sailed. By the way, Dick, Mr. Dunmore 
 does not know my true name. I am called Peter Wil- 
 kins." 
 
 Richard burst into a fit of laughter. 
 
 "Wasn't that the fellow," he asked, "who sold his soul 
 to the demon ? He was Peter Somebody." 
 
 At this moment Mi". Dunmore's courier, who was 
 with them on the box, approached, and, touching his 
 hat, said that " Monsieur Lovelace hoped his nephew 
 would bring Monsieur Harold to speak to them." 
 
 "Oh, yes! of course," said Dick; "tell my uncle we 
 are coming. I say, Harold, am I to introduce Peter 
 Wilkins ? " 
 
 " Shut up," said Harold. And the boys followed the 
 courier to the carriage, which had moved slowly after 
 Richard. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace were very glad to see Harold, 
 whom they had met at the doctor's, and whom they all 
 liked and pitied ; and Beatrice was equally glad to sec 
 
 9
 
 66 IVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 him : she thought him more courteous and refined in 
 manner than her Cousin Richard. 
 
 "How long have you been in Messina?" asked Mr. 
 Lovelace, when Harold had briefly explained how he 
 came there — not, however, mentioning his flight from 
 home. 
 
 " About five days," replied Harold. " Mr. Dunmore 
 has a little boy-ward, a child nearly four years old, who 
 is with us ; he wasn't very well — he 's a delicate little 
 chap ; so Mr. Dunmore had a doctor to see him at Malta, 
 and he advised him to go to Sicily, and let him run about 
 in the fields." 
 
 "But there are no fields in Messina," said Beatrice, 
 smiling. 
 
 " No ; but just a short drive from the city there are 
 splendid pastures, used for dairy purposes; and there 
 are lovely gardens of flowers, and mulberry plantations 
 for the silkworms." 
 
 " Oh ! are there ? " said Richard. " Then 1 shall do 
 myself the honour of inspecting them." 
 
 " Where is Mr. Dunmore staying ? " asked Mrs. Love- 
 lace, 
 
 " At the Royal Hotel," replied Harold. 
 
 " Oh, that is where we are ! " cried Beatrice ; " how 
 glad Dick will be to have you with him again, Mr. Sin- 
 clair ! " 
 
 They chatted a little longer, then Harold said he must 
 be going back ; he had been with a message for Captain 
 Elliot to the quay, but thought he would take a turn or 
 two on the Corso before he went home. 
 
 "And it was lucky I did," he said, with a glance at 
 Dick. Then, wishing them " Good evening," he ran 
 off.
 
 A A' UNEXPECTED MEETING. 67 
 
 " That is a fine lad," said Mr. Lovelace ; " I am glad 
 he has escaped from that old miser's den." 
 
 " And so am I," said Mrs. Lovelace ; " we all of us 
 liked Harold Sinclair." 
 
 The three young people met before breakfast the next 
 day in the garden of the hotel, and there in greater detail 
 Harold related all his recent adventures to his friends — 
 only concealing the belief of Mr. Dunmore, that the 
 person who had stolen the papers was his cousin. 
 
 They listened with great interest. Beatrice's pretty face 
 flushed, and her eyes sparkled at such a romantic tale, 
 and she looked on Harold as a perfect hero. 
 
 " It is such fun, too," she said, " that you should be 
 Peter Wilkins. It is quite like a three-volume novel." 
 
 " But will Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace keep the secret ? " 
 asked Harold a little anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, I will beg them to do so," cried Beatrice. 
 
 " But they won't, Harold," said Dick. " I know Uncle 
 Lovelace will say you ought to tell Mr. Dunmore." 
 
 "Well, I suppose I must," said Harold, with a sigh. 
 
 " No — let papa tell him, then," said Beatrice ; " he can 
 explain better than you can why you were obliged to run 
 away." 
 
 And Harold eagerly allowed that this would be much 
 the better plan. 
 
 "And now where have you been, Dick," he asked, 
 " since we parted ? " 
 
 "In Paris, Florence, and Naples," said Dick, "and 
 several other Italian places. Then, after seeing Vesuvius, 
 Uncle Lovelace thought he should like to see Etna. We 
 cam.e to Reggio, and then crossed over — and I do hope 
 we shall go up the big mountain." 
 
 " Oh, dear, I hope not 1 " said Beatrice. " Mr. Sinclair,
 
 68 IFF THREE BOYS. 
 
 we were all nearly killed on Vesuvius. We went to see 
 the eruption, and were standing on the extinct point 
 which once upon a time buried two great cities, and papa 
 suddenly insisted on our going away from it. Mamma 
 and I were quite vexed, for we could see the eruption 
 very well, and there were so many people, too, to see. 
 But papa made us go, and we had just reached Professor 
 Palmieri's observatory, when we looked back, and at that 
 moment saw the peak open and throw up a great river 
 of lava. We screamed ! But if we had been there we 
 should have been scalded to death, as many were." 
 
 " That was indeed a narrow escape," said Harold. 
 
 Thus they went on chatting till a lovely fair-haired 
 little boy of nearly four years old came running out to 
 call " Halald " to breakfast. Harold caught the pretty 
 child in his arms, and asked Beatrice if he wasn't a jolly 
 little fellow ; and she kissed the pet, who peeped shyly 
 up at her from Harold's shoulder. 
 
 Then Harold carried little Algy with him up to Mr. 
 Dunmore's apartments, and set him down to play on the 
 carpet while they had breakfast. He had told Mr. Dun- 
 more the previous evening of his meeting with his friends, 
 and the latier now asked him, smiling, " If he had been 
 having another chat with his chum .?" 
 
 Harold acknowledged he had. 
 
 " I shall call on Mr. Lovelace this morning," said Mr. 
 Dunmore. " I suppose you would wish me to do so, 
 Peter, as his son is such an ally of yours ? " 
 
 " I should like it very much," replied the boy, flushing, 
 "'for I am sure they would be glad to know you, Mr. 
 Dunmore. Only " he paused. 
 
 "Only what?" asked Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " Only they will tell you something about me," said
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 6g 
 
 Harold. " I hope it will not make you angry with 
 me." 
 
 " No harm, I hope ? " said Mr. Dunmore gravely. 
 
 " I don't know whether you will think it harm," said 
 Harold. 
 
 "Had you not better tell me yourself?" asked Mr. 
 Dunmore. 
 
 " I don't think I deceived you/' went on Harold : " I 
 told you Peter Wilkins was not my name." 
 
 " Yes, you did. Is there more to know ? " 
 
 "Only that I ran away from home, and that I had no 
 need to seek my fortune," said the boy shyly. 
 
 " Well, it does not seem easy for you to tell your own 
 story," said Mr. Dunmore, " so I will ask it of your 
 friends. What is your real name ? " 
 
 " Harold Sinclair," he replied. 
 
 "Not a bad name," said Mr. Dunmore. "Well, I shall 
 ask Mr. Lovelace about Harold Sinclair." 
 
 And Mr. Dunmore called that morning before luncheon 
 on Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace, found them very agreeable 
 people, and after a brief chat on indifferent subjects — 
 on Sicily, Messina, etc. — heard from them the story of 
 Harold's unloved and pinched youth, of his struggles 
 to educate himself, of his friendship with Lance and 
 Richard, and of his final flight from the lonely and penu- 
 rious home in which he had been kept. And they, in 
 turn, learnt how Harold had saved Mr, Dunmore's life, 
 and had proved himself a lad of great sense, courage, 
 and resources. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace listened with interest to this story. 
 
 " I think him a very fine lad," he said — " I always did, 
 and I am thankful for his sake that he has found so good^ 
 a friend."
 
 70 JVi; THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Are you angry with me? "asked Harold, when his 
 benefactor entered the room, where the boy had been 
 rather anxiously awaiting the result of his visit. 
 
 " No, my dear boy; I have no right to be angry. Your 
 flight from home was a blessing for me, as it saved my 
 life; and you had great excuses for leaving so churlish 
 and avaricious a kinsman. But I must communicate at 
 once with Sir Jasper, and tell him where his heir now is. 
 In a worldly point of view your flight was very unwise, 
 Harold. Had j'ou really gone to sea, as you proposed, 
 as a cabin-boy, your identity might have been very dif- 
 ficult to prove by-and-bye, and you might have figured 
 as a second Claimant." 
 
 " But you will not make me go back to Uncle Jasper, 
 if he wishes it.''" asked Harold anxiously. 
 
 " My dear boy, I don't think, from what Mr. Lovelace 
 tells me, that he will desire your return. I shall ask him 
 to let you remain a year or two with me, and I shall 
 undertake all your expenses during that time. I think 
 he will hear reason." 
 
 "I think on those terms he will," said Harold, smiling; 
 "and I can never thank you enough, Mr. Dunmore, for 
 your goodness to me. Still, I ought not to be such an 
 expense, and I fear you pay me more than my services 
 deserve." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You quite earn your pay," laughed his 
 friend. 
 
 " But will you promise," urged Harold, " that I may 
 repay you that which I can repay — the money part of 
 your benevolence — when I succeed to my uncle's pro- 
 perty.?" 
 
 "You shall, if it will make you happier," said Mr. 
 Dunmore. " And now come to luncheon ; we have to
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 
 
 71 
 
 drive little Algy to the pastures afterwards, remember. 
 And perhaps your friend Richard would like to come 
 with us ? " 
 
 " Oh, thank you, sir ! " cried Harold, and ran off to aslc 
 his friend. 
 
 s;^-/'ffiM"^;r:; 
 
 r-'-'V"' '■■ 
 
 vQ
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 lance's watch. 
 
 HE drive to the pastures was a delightful one. 
 They extended — green meadows, full of the 
 very sweetest flowers — from the edge of the 
 sea to the bottom of the mountains. Over them were 
 dotted groups of almond-trees and cypresses, and one 
 huge chestnut spread its great branches over quite a 
 large circle of gra^s. 
 
 Beneath this tree the cattle, belonging to the dairy- 
 farm kept by Tedeo Soraci, had taken shelter from the 
 noontide heat. He did not own all that range of pas- 
 tures, they belonged to others also ; his own meadows 
 were those nearest to the city and the sea. 
 
 Soraci came out to meet them with courteous bows 
 and civil compliments. He spoke a little French, a few 
 words of English, and he could understand the Italian of 
 Italy, from which, however, the dialect of Sicily differs a 
 good deal — for example, the /'s of Tuscany become, in 
 Sicily, ^'s: thus bella is bedda ; e and o become / and ti : 
 thus padre becomes padri, sojio, swum. Nevertheless, 
 Italian is understood by the Sicilians ; the difficulty was 
 rather with the Englishman understanding the Sicilian. 
 However, Soraci was equal to the occasion : he con- 
 sented, for a good " consideration," to allow Mr. Dun-
 
 LANCE'S IVATCIL 
 
 more to send his ward with the nurse daily to the dairy- 
 farm, to drink milk warm from the cow, and to be allowed 
 to run and play about in the meadow till his dinner-time; 
 promising, for the same sum, to guarantee the perfect 
 safety of the child and his attendant — a stipulation very 
 necessary in Sicily outside the towns. 
 
 " My daughter," went on Soraci, "has been a boiuie in 
 Messina. She speaks French, and some English ; she 
 will look after the bambino." 
 
 And it was settled that little Algy should be driven 
 out at early dawn to be in time for the milking in the 
 pastures. And henceforward Harold, accompanied by 
 Richard, frequently drove the child to his morning play- 
 ground, and often lingered there till the time for his 
 return. 
 
 The Lovelaces were still at Messina. Mrs. Lovelace 
 was not very well, from over-fatigue in travelling, and 
 her husband would not take her with him in his different 
 excursions ; but Richard occasionally went, and Harold 
 with them. When they were not thus absent, they never 
 failed to drive Algy and his Italian nurse to the farm, 
 where the happy child played amidst the flower-en- 
 amelled grass, or chased butterflies across it with babyish 
 glee. 
 
 Teresa, the daughter of the dairykeeper, was very 
 friendly with the nurse and very kind to the child, who 
 grew fond of her, and she managed to make the Italian 
 nurse understand her. She was also very good-natured 
 to the boys — gave them cups of milk and honey-cakes 
 — and was especially pleased with Harold because he 
 could speak a little Italian, which he had learned, as we 
 have said, from his quaint old schoolmaster, who was 
 proud of being able to read Dante, and liked to impart 
 
 10
 
 74 JVJ^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 his knowledge to his favourite pupil. It proved now to 
 Harold a most useful accomplishment. 
 
 The boy had also been able of late to indulge his 
 artistic tastes. With his first " pay," which Mr. Dunmore 
 had advanced while they were still in London, he had 
 bought himself a paint-box, brushes, and sketch-book, 
 and had commenced using them off Cape St. Vincent, 
 by painting the cliff with its salt sea fountain springing 
 in foam through the rocks, and its grey convent on the 
 summit. Mr. Dunmore, who was himself a good draughts- 
 man, saw this attempt, and was so pleased with it, that 
 he gave Harold a few bints on perspective, and when 
 they landed at Messina presented him with some of his 
 own colours. Harold, therefore, seized every opportunity 
 of making sketches, and the pastures afforded him some 
 lovely ones. When Dick was not with him — either 
 through accompanying Mr. Lovelace on his excursions, 
 or going out with the fisherman (who lived on the beach 
 at the foot of the meadows) to fish or sail on the exqui- 
 sitely sunny sea — Harold always drew for an hour or 
 two ; and he had at last ventured to ask Teresa if she 
 would sit to him for her portrait. She was well fitted to 
 be an artist's model — tall, powerful, with glorious dark 
 eyes, and a brunette complexion lighted up by rosy 
 cheeks, and lips as red as wet coral : she looked like a 
 queen condescending to rural labour when milking her 
 cows or goats. 
 
 Harold easily persuaded her to consent to sit to him, 
 and her portrait was begun. They managed to keep up 
 a broken conversation in French, Italian, English, and 
 the Sicilian dialect ; and Teresa asked many questions 
 about the Signori Iiiglcsi at the hotel, and about the 
 small cavaliere who so often ran to her to give and re 
 ceive a kiss.
 
 LANCE'S IVATCH. 75 
 
 But that which she chiefly enjoyed was Harold's recit- 
 ing, from Tasso's "Gerusalemme" to her, passages he 
 had learned by heart. 
 
 One morning, when Dick had gone out fishing, Harold 
 sat painting diligently, Teresa seated on a tree -root 
 before him, leaning on her brown arm in the attitude 
 he desired, in her picturesque costume ; the cows graz- 
 ing beneath the chestnut-trees ; beyond the trees the 
 blue sea glittering in the- sunlight, which gave also a 
 golden glow to the rich grass of the meadow. The boy 
 paused in his work a moment and glanced slowly round. 
 
 "How beautiful it is," he said, "your Sicily, Teresa ! 
 If I could paint well enough I should like to make a 
 picture of you as Proserpine gathering flowers on the 
 fields of Enna ; you would make a splendid goddess." 
 
 " The signore is too good," said Teresa, flushing with 
 pride ; "but he could do anything he liked to try, and if 
 he paints me as the Goddess Proserpina " (she knew the 
 story well, it was a folk's tale of her isle), " perhaps he 
 would give me the portrait he is doing now." 
 
 Harold laughed. 
 
 " Such a picture would be beyond me," he said ; " but 
 if you wish it, Teresina, I will make a copy of this por- 
 trait for you." 
 
 " Ah, inille grazie ! " (thousands of thanks) cried the 
 girl. " It is for a friend of mine I want it, one who has 
 given me a fine present ; he will be glad of it." 
 
 " He is a lover, I guess," said the boy. 
 
 " Si, signore. We zxo. proviessi sposi" she replied, " and 
 he gave me on n\y festa a fine watch. Ah, perhaps the 
 signore would look at it, for it does not go right — it keeps 
 not time." 
 
 "I will regulate it for you if you like," said Harold.
 
 76 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " Then I will bring it," said the girl, springing up and 
 hurrying away. 
 
 She returned in a minute or two, with a gold watch in 
 her hand. 
 
 " It does not go now," she said, " and it is too slow 
 when it does." 
 
 The watch had stopped. 
 
 " But where is the key ? " he asked. 
 
 " Ah, I have lost it," she replied. " But has not the 
 signore a key on his chain .-*" pointing to Harold's small 
 watch-chain, 
 
 " Yes, but it may not fit your watch," he said, laughing. 
 " However, we will try." 
 
 " My father has a watch and a key, but they big — very 
 big," said Teresa, giving him the watch ; " I tried the 
 key, but it did not do." 
 
 Harold examined the watch ; it looked like a very 
 handsome English one. He opened it and tried his key; 
 it did fit, but not very well, and as he turned it slowly 
 and with care, he perceived something engraved on the 
 raised gold lid of the watch-case. Harold was near- 
 sighted ; he bent down, and, looking at it closely, read : 
 
 " Presented by the visitors and residents at Pengarven 
 to Lancelot Regan, etc., in acknowledgment of his hero- 
 ism in rescuing a lad from death on August 12, 1870." 
 
 Harold nearly let the watch drop in his surprise and 
 dismay. It was Lance's watch, given him for saving 
 Harold's life ! He could not speak for a moment, but 
 during that moment he recovered his self-possession; it 
 would not do to let Teresa know what he had seen. 
 
 " Teresa," he said ; " you must have a key yourself, 
 because the watch needs winding up every twenty-four 
 hours."
 
 TERESA SHOWS HAROLD LANCE S WATCH,
 
 LANCE'S WATCH. 77 
 
 " I know, signore," nodding her head ; " my father's 
 does Hkewise." 
 
 " Well, if you like, I will take your watch into Messina 
 and get a key for it." 
 
 Teresa looked at him keenly for a moment. 
 
 " No," she said slowly ; " I will wait and get one my- 
 self. Thanks to his Excellency all the same ! " 
 
 And she held out her hand for the watch. Harold 
 gave it to her with an air of indifference. 
 
 " It is a handsome watch ; it must have cost much ! " 
 he said. 
 
 "Yes," said Teresa, holding it to her ear to hear it tick 
 as Algy might have done. 
 
 " Your lover is rich, is he .■* " asked Harold, with re- 
 strained eagerness. 
 
 "No, alas, no! not yet," said the girl; "but he soon 
 will be, and then he will hire the adjoining pastures at 
 the foot of the hills, and we shall be married." 
 
 Harold rose. 
 
 " I see Dick coming up the beach," he said ; " it is time 
 to put up my painting." 
 
 And he replaced his brushes with hands that trembled 
 so much, he feared Teresa would observe them. But 
 she was engrossed with her watch. Soon after Richard 
 joined him ; he called to the nurse and Algy, and drove 
 them home at a speed which drew a remonstrance from 
 the nurse. 
 
 Then, the moment they entered the hotel, he grasped 
 Richard's arm and exclaimed, 
 
 "Dick, Dick! I have just seen Lance's watch. He 
 has been robbed of it, and perhaps murdered "
 
 ' W.- 
 
 .^_y;-' : 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH TERESA. 
 
 ICHARD'S dismay when he heard Harold's 
 story was extreme. 
 
 " Teresa to have it ! " he exclaimed. " I can't 
 believe she is a thief." 
 
 " But didn't I tell you her lover gave it to her ? " said 
 Harold; "'he must be a robber, for Lance would never 
 willingly have parted with that watch." 
 
 " No, he wouldn't," said Dick, thoughtfully ; " I hope 
 it was only stolen — I hope Lance is all right." 
 
 " I hope so too," exclaimed Harold, "But the matter 
 must be inquired into at once. I tried to get the watch 
 from Teresa, but she was too cunning to give it up ; that 
 makes me fear that she knows it was unfairly obtained." 
 
 " Come in and tell my father," said Dick: "the Regans 
 are great friends of his, you know, and he will know what 
 to do." 
 
 Harold went with him and related his discovery to 
 Mr. Lovelace and his listening wife and daughter, who 
 were greatly excited by the story. 
 
 " We must go to the police about it at once," said Mr. 
 Lovelace, " though I fear they are not of much use here. 
 However, the watch must be recovered, and Teresa must 
 be made tell how her lover obtained it."
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH TERESA. 79 
 
 " Let me go and tell Mr. Dunmore before we start for 
 the police office," said Harold ; " he has been a good deal 
 in Italy and Sicily, you know, and may suggest the best 
 means of discovery." 
 
 Mr. Lovelace readily assented. 
 
 " Go and tell him at once," he said ; " I will wait." 
 
 And Harold ran upstairs to their apartments and rC' 
 lated to Mr. Dunmore his discovery of the watch. 
 
 " Lance's watch ! " cried that gentleman ; " and in 
 Sicily? Lance is the lad who saved your life on the 
 cliff, of which you told me, is he not ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Harold. " He sailed in the Covins for 
 the Mediterranean, and must have landed here." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore looked very grave. 
 
 " You did not tell me," he said, " that your young friend 
 v/as on board the Coimis, or I should have mentioned to 
 you that I had seen in a paper, while we were at Malta, an 
 account of an accident to that ship, or, rather, to her crew. 
 It stated that a boat from her went on shore at Messina 
 with some men who had a day's leave — a midshipman in 
 charge. They landed, were seen in the town, and em- 
 barked in the evening in their boat for the ship ; a sud- 
 den gust of wind — common enough in these seas — over- 
 took them, the boat was upset, and not one of those who 
 had left for the shore was seen alive again. I think the 
 midshipman's name was Regan." 
 
 Harold uttered a cry of pain and distress ; he bowed 
 his head upon his hands and wept bitterly. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore laid his hand kindly on his shoulder. 
 
 " I am sorry for you, my dear boy," he said ; " but this 
 watch seems to yield a gleam of hope that Lance may 
 possibly — mind, I only say possibly — have been captured 
 by brigands, and thus have not been in the boat ; at any
 
 So IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 rate, we can ascertain his fate through this watch. The 
 body may have come on shore, and the watch have been 
 on it ; but that is scarcely Hkely, I think, as the watch 
 is in such good condition; or he may have been robbed 
 before he embarked in the boat. We must fully investi- 
 gate the matter. Come, compose yourself, and go with 
 me and Mr, Lovelace to the police station." 
 
 Harold, by a strong effort, and the aid of that gleam 
 of hope of which Mr. Dunmore spoke, regained a little 
 calmness, and followed his friend down to the Lovelaces' 
 apartments, and from thence to the police station. 
 
 The police confirmed the newspaper report of the 
 accident to the Comnss boat, and thought the watch 
 might have been stolen from the midshipman before he 
 embarked to return to his ship. But every inquiry should 
 be made ; they would undertake the case at once. 
 
 Nothing more could be done at the time, and they 
 returned to the hotel, the two boys greatly depressed by 
 the fate of their friend. 
 
 "It is 'we two,' not 'we three,' now," said Dick, sor- 
 rowfully. 
 
 They did not any of them go to the pastures the next 
 day, nor did they hear from the police ; but by-and-bye, 
 as evening was closing in, a waiter came to Harold and 
 told him that a person wished to see him— a young 
 woman named Teresa. Harold obeyed the summons at 
 once : he could at least question Teresa as to the fate of 
 his friend. He found her wrapped in a cloak, the hood 
 drawn over her head as if for disguise. She threw it 
 back when she saw him, and he perceived that she had 
 been weeping : her eyes were red and swollen, and her 
 face pale. 
 
 " Oh, Signore 'Arold," she said, as he came up to her,
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH TERESA. 8i 
 
 " I never would have believed that you could have been 
 so cruel. To send the police to look at my watch and 
 take it away from me ! Ah, I should not have thought 
 it was you who had done it if I had shown it to any one 
 else ; but I did not — only to you, only to you," with sobs. 
 
 Harold felt as much ashamed as if he had done some- 
 thing wrong. 
 
 " My poor Teresa," he said, " I am very sorry to have 
 been obliged to pain you ; but the watch belonged to a 
 dear friend of mine, and I have inquired about it because 
 I fear he may have been murdered by those who took it 
 and gave it to you." 
 
 " Oh, no, he is alive," she said, " and well ; the band 
 only hold him till his ship returns. The English Queen 
 \\\\\ give a big ransom for her officer." 
 
 Harold felt as if he could have hugged her, he was so 
 delighted at this information. 
 
 " Alive ! " he cried. " Oh, my dear Teresa, is he 
 alive } " 
 
 " Yes, signore, alive and well," she asserted. 
 
 " And where is he .-' " asked the boy, eagerly. 
 
 " He is with the Black Rovers on the hill," she said ; 
 "and they like him well. Look you, he might even join 
 them if he would ; they would forego his ransom." 
 
 " But how did they get him ? " asked the boy. 
 
 "Well, he had leave to go on shore for a few hours, 
 and he wandered about and climbed up to a part of the 
 mountains where people may not safely venture. There 
 he was found by Giovanni and two more of the band, 
 and they seized him and carried him off: they knew the 
 Queen of England would pay a large ransom for her 
 young officer — the English pay well. Then of course 
 they took his watch and purse, and Giovanni gave the 
 
 II
 
 82 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 ■watch to me;" coolly : "they wait till his ship returns to 
 treat of his ransom." 
 
 *' Thank you for telling me this, Teresa," said Harold ; 
 "he must be ransomed — Mr. Dunmore and Mr. Lovelace 
 will ransom him, I am sure, when they know about it." 
 
 " But I have lost my watch," said Teresa, disconsolately. 
 
 " You shall have another if Lance comes back safe," 
 he said, gleefully. 
 
 " And they will give a good ransom ? " she asked, 
 greedily. 
 
 " We shall see — I must ask them." And he turned 
 away, but she caught his arm. 
 
 " Listen, signore," she said. " If you will trust me to 
 help you, I may get him released for a very small ransom 
 — or, to speak truly, — for a present to Giovanni, my be- 
 trothed, who would then help him to escape. Signer 
 Lancillotto has told them that he is poor; but perchance 
 the Queen will ransom her young officer ? " 
 
 ** I don't believe she will," said Harold, bluntly. 
 
 " So I have said," replied Teresa. " Then it will fall 
 on his father ; therefore we had better see what bargain 
 we can make with Giovanni." 
 
 "Teresa, you are a trump — I mean" (in Italian) "an 
 excellent girl," said Harold. 
 
 " Well, Signor 'Arold, it will not do for the band to 
 know of our plot ; but I will send to-night for Giovanni 
 to come to the pastures at dawn to-morrow, to speak to 
 you about what he would take. Only, ricordatevi, re- 
 member, I trust to your honour as an Englishman that 
 you will come alone, and that you will tell no one, not 
 even your padrone, that I have been here or what you 
 mean to do. If not, I will go, and you will hear no more 
 of me."
 
 A A' INTERVIEW WITH TERESA. 83 
 
 Harold hesitated, and she saw that he did. 
 
 "Listen," she said: "it will be well for your friend if 
 you can settle it easily ; when there arc disputes or delays 
 the prisoners sometimes lose an ear or a nose, which are / 
 sent down to their friends to hasten matters." 
 
 Harold shuddered. 
 
 " They had better not hurt a hair of Lance's head," 
 he said, " or we will show them no mercy." 
 
 Teresa laughed. 
 
 "You will have to get them into your power before you 
 talk of mercy," she said, mockingly; "and the mountains 
 are full of hiding-places. Will you keep the secret and 
 come, or will you not ? " 
 
 " I have a great mind to call Mr. Dunmore out to speak 
 to you now at once," he said. 
 
 Teresa raised her large eyes to his face. 
 
 " What ! " she said, " when I have trusted you .-* " 
 
 And Harold thought that he could not honourably 
 announce her presence in the hotel, since he knew that it 
 might cause her to be arrested ; but still he hesitated as 
 to going to the pastures alone. 
 
 " Well," she said, after a pause, " as you will ; I can 
 say no more, and I have risked a good deal to come 
 here. If you settle with Giovanni, a small sum (nothing 
 to rich Englishmen) will release your friend; if not — I 
 can't tell." 
 
 And she turned to leave the hall. 
 
 "Stop," said Harold. "I will come at dawn." 
 
 "And alone? You will not tell the signori?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " No, I will come alone," he said. 
 
 Teresa bowed, drew down her hood, and departed.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BETRAYED. 
 
 'pAROLD rose with the earliest beam of light, 
 dressed himself hastily, and hurried off to the 
 dairy meadows. Teresa met him in the one 
 where he usually sat to draw, 
 
 " Giovanni," she said, " is afraid of coming as far as 
 this : he will meet us yonder," pointing to a distant field 
 which lay almost at the foot of the mountains ; for the 
 dairy-farm was both near the sea and near the foot of 
 the hills, which extend the whole length of Sicily on the 
 north. 
 
 Harold nodded, and accompanied her across the fresh 
 dewy pastures, the sweet morning air fanning his brow 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " You will be well rewarded for this, if we get back 
 our friend, Teresa," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I shall," she replied curtly, adding, after a pause, 
 "I suppose the English signore will go up Mongibello .? " 
 
 "Etna? Oh, yes; I think so," said Harold. "But 
 now they will do nothing, I am certain, till we have 
 learned all we can about Mr. Regan. I ought to do my 
 best for him, Teresa, for he once saved my life." And 
 he told the young Italian the story of his rescue on the 
 cliff. Her black eyes flashed with admiration of Lance's 
 
 61
 
 BETRAYED. 85 
 
 " Ah," she said, " it was brave ! it was noble ! You 
 had an excuse for betraying me." 
 
 " Betraying you ? But, Teresa, I meant you no harm." 
 
 "And you have done me no harm," she replied, with 
 vivacity, "for Giovanni will let me go to the moun- 
 tains with him, now I am threatened by the police for 
 his sake. Yes ; I shall not have to wait and wait till he 
 has enough to buy a farm and satisfy my father as he 
 wished ; but a good priest whom the band know will 
 marry us at once. — Giovanni ! " 
 
 For while Harold was looking at her, surprised at 
 her vehemence, a man had approached and stood by 
 them. 
 
 " I am here, Teresina ;;//^," he said. " Is this the 
 young English gentleman .'' " (Of course we translate all 
 the Italian.) 
 
 "Yes," she said ; "this is Signor 'Arold." 
 
 " And I am ready to speak to you about Mr. Lance 
 Regan's ransom," said Harold, smiling at the handsome 
 dark-browed young fellow who stood by him. 
 
 "Yes, signore; and of your own," replied the bandit 
 coolly. 
 
 Harold started : he saw at once that he was betrayed, 
 and he darted a reproachful glance at Teresa. She 
 nodded her head. 
 
 " Yes," she said, laughing ; " I have, as you English 
 say, ' tooked you in.' " 
 
 Harold made a slight movement ; he was very swift 
 of foot — he thought that he might regain the farm before 
 the fellow could catch him. But Giovanni's quick eye 
 detected the movement ; he drew out a pistol. 
 
 "If you attempt to escape I will shoot you," he said. 
 
 "If you do," said Harold, dauntlessly, "you will die
 
 86 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 for it : an Englishman has his country's shield over him, 
 and England would avenge me." 
 
 This was a little grandiloquent, but Harold knew the 
 people pretty well now, and he saw his words made an 
 impression. 
 
 " Come quietly with me to your friend," said the ban- 
 dit sullenly ; " I don't want to shed your young blood." 
 
 ** I will not go with you ! " declared Harold, boldly 
 confronting him. 
 
 Giovanni gave a whistle ; three or four men sprang 
 out of one of the thickets of brushwood which lined the 
 edge of the pasture land, seized Harold, and bound his 
 hands and feet. Then they raised him between two of 
 them, and trotted off to the hill-side, while Harold uttered 
 shout after shout for help, and did his best by struggling 
 and wriggling to make it impossible for the fellows to 
 hold him. He received at last, in return for his resis- 
 tance, a blow on the head from his captors, which stunned 
 him, and he did not recover consciousness for some little 
 time. It was restored, probably, by the jerking of a 
 mule, across whose back he had been thrown, and which 
 was carrying him up the mountain-side. A groan which 
 he gave attracted the attention of Giovanni, who ran by 
 his side, and he heard Teresa's voice say, 
 
 "Let the povetino sit up; he is recovering." 
 
 And Giovanni stopped the mule, and took its burden 
 off it. 
 
 " You may sit on it now," he said sullenly. " What 's 
 the use of giving so much trouble ? " in a tone of in- 
 jury. 
 
 Harold, whose head still ached, made no reply, but 
 took his seat on the saddle, aided by Giovanni — for his 
 hands were still firmly bound — and the bandit led his
 
 BETRA YED. Zj 
 
 mule. Teresa walked on the other side, and two of 
 Giovanni's comrades followed them. 
 
 Harold now glanced round him, but could see nothing 
 for a long time but tree-trunks standing thickly together, 
 and an entangled underwood ; the narrow and tortuous 
 path scarcely permitted Teresa to walk by the side of the 
 mule; she had often to follow it. 
 
 But by-and-bye there was a gap in the trees, and a 
 vision of beauty burst upon the boy's sight. They had 
 ascended a good way now, and below lay the fertile lands 
 which surround Messina ; a stretch of the bluest sea, 
 dotted over with white felucca sails ; while crags, covered 
 with woods, formed the foreground. He uttered an in- 
 voluntary exclamation of " Splendid ! " Teresa, then 
 walking by him, nodded her head. 
 
 " It is fine ! " she said ; " but by-and-bye, higher up, the 
 signorino will see Mongibello." 
 
 Harold vouchsafed her no answer ; he was thoroughly 
 disgusted with both Teresa and himself — with her for her 
 falsehood, with himself for his credulity. How could he 
 have been so foolish as to have consented to come alone 
 and secretly to the pastures.-* He acknowledged to him- 
 self that it had all come of conceit in himself; his luck 
 in London about the bag had made him think himself 
 equal to any business. They had travelled upwards a 
 good way by noon, and then the heat, and Teresa's 
 fatigue, rendered a rest necessary. 
 
 Harold guessed that they were going a roundabout 
 way to the bandits' hold, in order that he might not learn 
 the track. They lifted him off his mule and seated him 
 under a tree, then, tying his ankles together and releas- 
 ing his hands, they gave him some black bread, dried 
 venison, and a few fresh figs, for his luncheon or dumcr.
 
 88 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 and offered him a drink of cool water from a trickling 
 rill beside which they reclined. Had Harold not been a 
 prisoner and in some danger, if not ransomed, he would 
 have thought it a most delightful picnic ; as it was, he 
 reflected with some anxiety on Mr. Dunmore's displea- 
 sure when he should learn his folly and its consequences. 
 
 " It is too bad to have put him to such an expense," 
 he thought, " for I know that he will pay my ransom. 
 Uncle Jasper would never be persuaded to do so. Well, 
 I must repay him by-and-bye." 
 
 After an hour's rest they again set out ; but now 
 Harold's eyes were bandaged as well as his hands tied, 
 and his remonstrances and assurances of not revealing 
 their retreat were treated with contemptuous silence. 
 
 It was growing cooler when again they paused, and he 
 was lifted off and his eyes uncovered. He found then 
 that he was in the presence of a small man, of about 
 thirty-five, dressed in true bandit costume : high hat with 
 scarlet ribbon tied round it near the top, a jacket bound 
 with broad silver braid, open, and showing his white 
 shirt, but reaching far below his waist ; a cloak over one 
 shoulder ; and a broad leather belt edged with gold, in 
 which were stuck pistols and a stiletto. 
 
 " Captain," said Giovanni, " this English youth is the 
 adopted son of a rich milordo who is now at the Royal 
 Hotel in Messina ; he will fetch a good ransom." 
 
 The captain took off his hat and bowed to Harold. 
 
 " I am glad to make the signorino's acquaintance," he 
 said courteously ; "he is welcome to the mountains. But 
 he has a black eye, Giovanni, and his face is swollen. I 
 fear he gave trouble ? " 
 
 " A little. Excellency," said Giovanni; "he wriggled 
 like an eel, and we had to give him a pat."
 
 BETRAYED. 8? 
 
 The captain smiled ; a cruel ferocious smile, Harold 
 thought. 
 
 "Just to give him a hint as to our requirements," said 
 he. " Now, Signor Inglese, understand. We will take 
 your parole d'honneiir not to escape. If you do not give 
 it, you will be bound hand and foot till ransomed ; if you 
 do, you may roam about upon the plateau here as you 
 please. If you go beyond 'it you will be shot for break- 
 ing your parole. Take him to our cave." 
 
 And Harold, after a vehement reply to the captain, in 
 which he assured him that he was penniless himself — or 
 nearly so — and that he was no relation and not an adopted 
 son of Mr. Dunmore, was led away, and conducted again 
 upwards, till he stood on a wide plain with gentle un- 
 dulations, which formed the summit of the mountain 
 on which they were ; lying, however, immediately below 
 another lofty height, in which were several small and 
 one large cave. The view from hence was glorious — 
 the sea, the fertile lands, the magnificent chestnut forests 
 through which they had passed, and, above all, the 
 mighty cone of Etna — scarcely forty miles away — en- 
 chanted Harold. The sunlight cast a rosy tint upon the 
 snows which crowned it, and he could have fancied it 
 was a gleam of the hidden fires. 
 
 Then he followed Giovanni to the caves. 
 
 The first they entered was a large one, furnished in a 
 rough but convenient fashion with stools, tables, and 
 forms ; there was also a kind of sideboard, richly carved, 
 of old wood, an ancient and valuable piece of furniture, 
 on which were flagons and the great glass bottles of the 
 country, containing, doubtless, Lachryma Christi and 
 Marsala — the vin ordinaire. Passing through this cave, 
 Giovanni led him down a tortuous passage to a high but 
 
 12
 
 50 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 narrow cave or cell, in which were two couches with 
 beech-leaf mattresses and a coverlet on them, but no 
 other furniture. 
 
 "This is your sleeping-cell," he said ; "you will share 
 it with the other English lad who is your friend." 
 
 Harold's heart beat with the sudden pleasure of soon 
 seeing his friend. 
 
 "Where is he ? " he asked. 
 
 "How should I know?" replied Giovanni, sullenly; 
 "somewhere outside, I suppose. He's a pleasant lad 
 enough, and our fellows like him ; if he would join us 
 we would not speak of ransom ; but he won't." 
 
 " I should think not," muttered Harold to himself. 
 
 " He '11 be here by-and-bye," said Giovanni, — " nay, 
 cccolo ! here he is." 
 
 And Harold, turning, saw Lance, and in another mo- 
 ment the boys had clasped hands in cordial greeting. 
 
 " Why, Harold, in the name of everything wonderful, 
 how came you here ? " cried Lance. 
 
 " On a mule, with my hands tied and eyes bandaged," 
 laughed Harold, " and against my will, I assure you." 
 
 "But how came you in Sicily?" asked Lance, still 
 wondering. 
 
 " Oh, it is a long story, which I will tell you by-and- 
 bye. But how are you, Lance ? You look very jolly, 
 almost too heavy for our rope now," he said, with an 
 affectionate smile. 
 
 " Yes, 1 am rather too fat ; but the fellows are letting 
 me take exercise now, and I shall soon be in better 
 training. Sit down, old lad, and let us have a chat."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 lance's story. 
 
 ANCE listened with great interest and surprise 
 to Harold's tale. 
 
 " You are quite a hero of romance," he said, 
 laughing — "rescuing a gentleman from robbers, defeating 
 the schemes of a villain, and now daring captivity to 
 rescue a friend." 
 
 " The last was a big blunder," said Harold, laughing, 
 " as it has made two prisoners to be ransomed instead of 
 one. But, Lance, I am almost glad to have been such a 
 goose, since it has brought me to you," 
 
 " I don't think you a goose," said Lance : " in fact, I 
 am glad you can make a mistake sometimes, otherwise 
 
 you would be too much like the Italian Mac what is 
 
 his name ? " 
 
 " Machiavelli," suggested Harold. 
 
 " Yes, Machiavelli, — to be a good comrade." 
 
 " But, Lance, tell me now how you were taken," asked 
 Harold. 
 
 " Well, I came on shore on leave with some men : one 
 man was left in the boat while we went for a spree. The 
 fellows wandered off to the wine-shops, and I went for a 
 walk up the hills — was caught by four of these guys of 
 bandits and carried off. In vain I told them that I was
 
 93 U'£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 a British officer : they didn't heed me the least ; but they 
 have since told me that they sent down one of their 
 rascals well armed to the town, meaning to send a mes- 
 sage to Captain Rivers to say that I was their prisoner, 
 and held to ransom. But their messenger never had an 
 opportunity of delivering his message, for the ship had 
 sailed. Our boat had been seen to go down by the people 
 on board, and of course Captain Rivers, thinking we had 
 gone to Davy Jones's locker, made no inquiries on shore 
 (or next to none), and sailed when he intended. However, 
 as the bandits knew that either the Conius or some other 
 man-o'-war will visit Messina by-and-bye, they keep 
 me till that time arrives, and I must say are very civil 
 to me. But meantime, Harold, only imagine the grief 
 of my father, to whom they won't let me write — they 
 fancy the Queen would pay a better ransom, the idiots ! 
 — he must believe that I am drowned." 
 
 " But think what his joy will be when he finds that 
 you are alive," said Harold, in consolation. " He will be 
 four times as happy as ever he was. And how do the 
 bandits treat you .'* " 
 
 "Very well. They find me a good shot. I go out 
 shooting with two or three of them now and then, for 
 they know they can trust me as I am upon my parole ; 
 in fact, I was much pleased to find that they do not be- 
 lieve an officer of the Queen could break his word. But 
 they are a set of low mean cads, Harold : thieves, and some 
 of them murderers, mere dregs of the people, ignorant, 
 vicious, and, I believe, cowardly. All the illusions one 
 has about chivalrous outlaws and gentlemanly brigands 
 fade away when brought face to face with them. But, 
 Harold, there is one thing that has amazed me. I have 
 seen European gentlemen here when I have myself been
 
 LANCE'S STORY. 93 
 
 unseen — a Russian, a Frenchman, even recently an Eng- 
 lishman has been in the caves — and from other observa- 
 tions I have made I believe that many, if not all, the 
 gang are Socialists, and belong to a secret society. You 
 see, I cannot speak their lingo, but I have caught up in 
 the Mediterranean a few words of it, and I can put two 
 and two together. The Englishman of whom I spoke 
 was talking to the captain about a bambino — that is a 
 baby or little child, you know — once when I passed him. 
 It couldn't have been your London friend .-' " 
 
 ** What was he like ? " asked Harold eagerly. 
 
 " I only caught a passing glimpse at him, for he — and 
 they all — kept carefully out of my way ; but I know he 
 was tall and fair." 
 
 " So was the man of the Embankment," said Harold ; 
 *' but it could not be he — he is a gentleman." 
 
 Here they were interrupted by Giovanni calling them 
 to supper, and they proceeded to the large cave, where 
 Teresina and an aged crone were putting the last dishes 
 on the long table. The brigands gathered round, or 
 rather along it, rapidly. Harold found his place was by 
 the captain on one hand, while Lance sat on the other. 
 The captain was very polite to them, and Harold enjoyed 
 the roast venison and wine, the maccaroni and sugar-cakes 
 which followed ; but they were disgusted by the conduct 
 of their companions, who ate voraciously, often with their 
 fingers, expectorated, swore, and indeed behaved as such 
 low villains always do. The two young English gentle- 
 men were disgusted. The captain, or "capitano," as they 
 called him, was a little more civilized, and seemed of a 
 higher class. In fact, he had once been a respectable 
 Italian confectioner in Paris, but having in a fit of jealousy 
 killed his wife, he was obliged to escape from justice ; he
 
 94 f^-S THREE BOYS. 
 
 fled to Sicily, took to the mountains, and from his better 
 education, his knowledge of French and smattering of 
 English, had soon been elected the leader of the robbers. 
 He was consequently able to converse in a medley of 
 Italian, French, and English with the two boys. 
 
 After dinner the men took out cigars, and began a 
 regular drinking bout, which the captain well knew might 
 end in a drunken brawl, dangerous for his valuable guests ; 
 therefore he said he thought they had better accompany 
 him to his room — which was next to the large cave — or 
 they might go and sit outside under the eye of the 
 sentinels who kept watch there. 
 
 They preferred the open air, and went out, pacing 
 arm-in-arm up and down the plateau and listening to 
 the cicalas in the wood till the sun Siank in the sea, and the 
 soft Sicilian twilight fell round them. They chatted of 
 all that had happened since they parted : Lance had 
 to tell of his pleasant messmates and of his voyage ; 
 Harold of their friends at the Cornish watering-place, of 
 Dick's change of fortune, and of their unexpected meeting 
 in Messina. The moon had risen and cast a silvery glory 
 over all things before the captain joined them, and said 
 he advised them to go to rest. The advice was a command, 
 and the boys obeyed it at once ; passing on their way to 
 their cave the bandits in the larger apartment, who were 
 lying about in drunken groups or resting their heads on 
 the table, which was wet with upset wine and sprinkled 
 with cigar-ashes. 
 
 " Circe's swine," whispered Harold, 
 
 "But Circe has retired," said Lance. "By-the-bye, 
 Harold, she is very handsome, but how could you trust 
 such a face .'* it has cunning painted on it." 
 
 Harcld sighed. "Because I was a goose," he said.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A MYSTERY. 
 
 HE boys rose very early next morning, and went 
 out on the plateau of the mountains. The sun 
 had not quite risen, but was just on the horizon, 
 edging it with gold ; the dew lay on the grass in pearls ; 
 the cicalas were already singing ; the air was pure and 
 sweet. 
 
 *' If these men's lives were honest their existence here 
 would be very pleasant," remarked Harold. 
 
 " Yes," said the young sailor, " if one had but a good 
 sea boat below there." 
 
 " What a set of low ruffians they are," went on Harold. 
 "I remember when I was a little chap of about ten, I 
 had the wildest notions of bandits : I thought them un- 
 fortunate gentlemen, brave and chivalrous, and driven by 
 oppression to the mountain fastnesses." 
 
 " I had also picturesque notions of them," said Lance. 
 " But, hillo ! look there, Harold." 
 
 Harold turned as desired, and beheld Teresa, in her 
 full festival array, issuing from the cave with Giovanni 
 and another bandit. She smiled at the lads, and said 
 ^' B no? I giorno !" 2iS she passed them; but Harold took 
 no notice of her, — he was disgusted at her treachery. 
 
 "Where is she going 1 " he asked Lance. 
 
 95
 
 96 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 "To be married to Giovanni at the next village, I 
 suppose," said Lance, " from her dress and his. Did you 
 notice that the bandits were both dressed in villagers' 
 attire — not in their usual garb ? " 
 
 " Yes, I saw they were." 
 
 The lads were now called by the old woman to break- 
 fast in the large cave, where they found the captain. He 
 spoke civilly to them, pressed them to eat, and regretted 
 that he had not better fare to set before them, though 
 the roast kid and coffee served up were excellent. The 
 captain evidently prided himself on his good manners. 
 
 After breakfast he told the lads that they would find 
 some books in his cave, to which they were welcome. 
 They accepted his permission to visit his cave more from 
 curiosity as to the kind of place it might be than in hopes 
 of finding books that would please them. It was cer- 
 tainly better furnished than the outer one, being hung 
 with some curious tapestry, and having a silver lamp sus- 
 pended from the roof. There were goat and deer-skins 
 on the floor, and a fur counterpane on the couch. In a 
 hole of the rock stood a few books— chiefly French — and 
 Harold laughed as he drew out " Gil Bias." 
 
 " He also was in a robber's den," he said ; " but I will 
 have a look at the ' Decameron,' which is h-ere also." 
 
 But though they each took a book, they read little that 
 day, they had so much to talk about. 
 
 For two or three days the two friends were suffered to 
 amuse themselves on the plateau, to which their outdoor 
 life was limited, without any reference by the capitano to 
 their ransoms ; indeed, they were treated by the ex-con- 
 fectioner with great civility. He evidently liked to air 
 his bad French by conversing with them, and to increase 
 his knowledge by asking them questions. When these,
 
 A MYSTERY. 97 
 
 however, related to the movements of their friends in 
 Messina, or to their means, Harold was careful to avoid 
 direct answers. He (the captain) also sought to inspire 
 them with a liking for his own mode of life, especially 
 Lance, for whom he seemed to have formed an affection. 
 He boasted of the freedom and excitement of a bandit's 
 life, and of the riches that might be amassed, on which 
 one could, when one pleased, retire from the business, 
 and was not at all offended by Lance's cool replies and 
 far truer statement of the case ; indeed, he seemed to 
 admire the superior honesty and honour of his prisoner, 
 though he declared, shaking his head, that 'cellenza's 
 principles were not practical in this very bad world. 
 
 One day Lance asked him if inquiries had been made 
 about Harold, adding, " However, of course they have." 
 
 "But, yes," allowed the captain, "he had had inquiries 
 sent to him, and he had informed the English signori 
 that Signer 'Arold was his prisoner ; and there is a talk 
 of ransom," he added; "but there is no hurry. There may 
 be more to settle by-and-bye," significantly. "And I 
 hope the signorini are not unhappy here — that they have 
 all they wish ? " 
 
 " So far we thank you for well treating us," said Harold. 
 " But no one can be happy deprived of liberty," 
 
 The captain shrugged his shoulders and extended his 
 hands, declaring that "that was a fine sentiment," and 
 walked off. 
 
 "What can he mean," said Harold, as soon as they 
 were alone, " by there being more to settle, perhaps, by- 
 and-bye.'' Surely they are not laying snares for Mr. 
 Dunmore or Mr. Lovelace or the ladies?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Lance thoughtfully. " The greater 
 part of the band are absent. They are up to mischief of 
 
 I?
 
 93 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 some kind, of course, somewhere or the other, I wish, 
 Harold, that we had not given our word not to attempt 
 to escape," 
 
 " But if we had not we should have been shut up in 
 one of those close, dirty, dark cells," replied Harold, " in- 
 stead of sitting out here enjoying the sweet air, and look- 
 ing down on beautiful Sicily. Besides, not knowing the 
 roads down the mountain, and being sure to be pursued 
 by those who do, how could we escape?" 
 
 "It would be worth risking it," said Lance "I have 
 a little more idea of our position than you have, because 
 the bandits have let me shoot with them once or twice — 
 as a decoy, I fancy, to join them, or perhaps to inveigle 
 me into it by making it appear that I had done so, and 
 so rendering it dangerous for me to go back to my ship 
 lest the Sicilian authorities should claim me. This last 
 thought occurring to me when we met a peasant during 
 our most recent excursion, who looked earnestly at me, 
 I have declined to go again with them." 
 
 " You were right," said Harold ; " but I wonder they 
 trusted you with a gun." 
 
 "They put the most flattering trust in my parole" re- 
 sponded Lance; "and of course they are right: nothing 
 would tempt me to break it." 
 
 " But we might tell them that we revoked it, and meant 
 to escape if we could," said Harold. 
 
 " Yes, we might, and I think we will. Do you know, 
 Harold, these mountains are full of caverns and subter- 
 raneous passages, where the bandits are perfectly safe 
 from the pursuit of soldiers — the captain has told me so 
 many times. Now, surely zve might hide in them as well 
 as the band, and by doubling on them, escape finally." 
 
 " It might be possible," said Harold.
 
 A MYSTERY. eg 
 
 "You see," continued Lance, "I am by no means sure 
 that the Admiralty would ransom me ; I don't know the 
 least whether they would or not. My father would, of 
 course, when he knows that I am not drowned, but here ; 
 but he is not a rich man, and I should be very glad to 
 save him expense." 
 
 " Of course you would. As to Sir Jasper, I don't 
 believe he would pay a penny to save my life : he would 
 say I had no business here. Mr, Dunmore would pay 
 for me, but I should be glad to save him such an expense, 
 though by-and-bye I could of course repay him." 
 
 " Then we will revoke our parole, and do our best to 
 get away," declared Lance. 
 
 " And as there is no time like the present, let us go to 
 the captain at once, while the greater part of his gang are 
 away," said Harold, rising. 
 
 "No, wait till to-morrow," exclaimed Lance, stopping 
 him. " We must manage to get a little food together 
 if we are to hide in the caves, and we shall have no 
 chance when we are shut up in the prisons : they will 
 feed us with bread and water only. I will go and ask if 
 we may have our breakfast here under the trees, and then 
 we can secrete a little meat and bread in the bushes." 
 
 Old Ridda, the woman who was servant to the ban- 
 dits, good-naturedly assented to Lance's request, and he 
 reappeared laden with a huge brown dish of cold roast 
 kid and a loaf of bread. A portion of this was at once 
 cut off and concealed on a rough projection inside the 
 hollow trunk of a huge chestnut-tree, and then Lance 
 and Harold sat down to eat their noontide breakfast, for 
 — according to the custom of the country — they had only 
 a draught of milk and piece of bread at the earlier meal. 
 
 The scene before them was more beautiful than the
 
 loo JFE THREE BOYS. 
 
 imagination can conceive. They sat under the shade of 
 one of those great chestnut-trees which grow to so vast 
 a size in Sicily; before them the mountain sloped down- 
 wards, richly wooded ; and on the great crowns of oak 
 and chestnut the midday sun threw a perfect glory of 
 golden light ; at the foot of the mountain stretched plains 
 which were dotted over by dwellings, and covered with 
 sheep or herds of cows ; here and there were the great 
 gardens of the bee-masters — these extended up the side 
 of the mountain a considerable way, and filled the air 
 with delicious perfumes. Far beyond the gardens and 
 pastures lay the radiant sea. Turning their heads, they 
 could see the lofty cone of Etna glittering in sunlight. 
 
 To Harold's artistic taste the scene was so charming 
 it seemed to atone for his captivity. As they ate their 
 noonday meal they discussed the possibilities of escape, 
 and, with boyish love of excitement, longed for its diffi- 
 culties and dangers. 
 
 The day passed much as usual, and moonlight was 
 resting in silvery beauty on the mountain. Harold had 
 retired to the cell for the night with Lance, but the heat 
 there was great, and he did not feel inclined to sleep. 
 
 After tossing about for some time, he rose, put on a 
 few garments, and went to the great cave, intending 
 to go out on the plateau for half an hour in the moon- 
 light. At the mouth of the cave, however, he was stopped 
 by the sentinel's rifle being laid across it. 
 
 " You cannot go out," said the man ; " the captain is 
 there with a friend." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said Harold, in his queer Sicilian, " it is 
 so hot in our cave. May I stand here then, and breathe 
 the fresh air, good Guiseppe ? " 
 
 *'■ Bene^ I should think there is no harm in that, signore,"
 
 A MYSTERY. loi 
 
 said the man ; " neither you nor I can hear what they 
 say." 
 
 And Harold, thanking him, leant against the side of 
 the cave, inhaling the sweet perfumed air of night ; but 
 suddenly he started, and the sentinel, turning to him, 
 said, " What is it ? " 
 
 " A bat, I think," stammered Harold, pointing to one 
 flitting by. 
 
 " And you are afraid of it ? " said the sentinel : talk- 
 ing was by no means forbidden to the ill-disciplined sen- 
 tinels of the band. " Well, that is strange ; it cannot 
 harm you." 
 
 " But I dislike bats very much," sa)d Harold, peering 
 forward and gazing out of the cave. 
 
 " H'm ! " said the sentinel, resuming his pacing up and 
 down before the cave entrance. Harold stood watching. 
 At length, as the man again stopped, he said, 
 
 " I am cooler, and will go in, Guiseppe ; the captain 
 might not like to find me here. Good night, and thanks." 
 
 "Good night!" said Guiseppe. "You are right, he 
 mightn't like it, though it was no harm. You needn't 
 speak of it." 
 
 " I will not, I assure you," replied Harold. 
 
 Then he hurried back to his cave. 
 
 Lance was sleeping profoundly — his arm under his 
 head. He was a boy who seldom had cause to complain 
 of sleeplessness. Harold knelt down by him and shook 
 him slightly, whispering " Lance." The lad woke at once 
 with the readiness of a seaman, whom a whisper can 
 rouse, though a tempest might not, and seeing Harold's 
 face close to his own, asked at once in a low tone, 
 
 " What is the matter ? " 
 
 " Lance," said his friend, " do you remember my telling
 
 102 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 you of Mr. Dunmore's cousin who stole those papers 
 which were so important for Httle Algy?" 
 
 " Yes, I do. What a cad he must be ! " 
 
 " He is," said Harold ; " but what do you think .'' I 
 have just seen him." 
 
 " How ? In your dreams .-' " asked Lance, stretching 
 his arms up over his head. 
 
 " No ; alive — here, and talking to the captain. I think 
 it must have been he whom you saw. Lance." 
 
 "You must surely be mistaken," said Lance; "]\Ir. 
 Dunmore would not send Jtim about your ransom." 
 
 " No ; I know he would not, and he cannot have come 
 here about us. But I could not be mistaken ; he is so 
 wonderfully like my Mr. Dunmore." 
 
 "But on friendly terms with the captain of this gang 
 of thieves, and he an English gentleman ! It can't be, 
 Harold. Most likely he is a prisoner as we are." 
 
 " Oh ! you would not think so if you saw how obse- 
 quious the captain was to him — walking with his hat in 
 his hand, and bowing every moment. It would have 
 amused me, only that I fear the said gentleman is up to 
 no good." 
 
 " He had better not come athwart my hawse," laughed 
 Lance. " How came you to see him, Harold ? " 
 
 Harold explained. 
 
 "It is a strange thing, certainly," said Lance. "If 
 these fellows could be hired for bravoes, one would think 
 he had come to engage one." 
 
 "Perhaps they can be," said Harold thoughtfully; "and 
 both Mr. Dunmore and Algy are in Giles Dunmore's 
 way." 
 
 "But what can we do to save them — unless we escape 
 as soon as possible .'' " asked Lance.
 
 A MYSTERY. 
 
 lO' 
 
 " I don't know," said Harold ; " but I think / must 
 wait here. It is not impossible that it is the child Giles 
 Dunmore is after. Perhaps it may be brought here, you 
 see." 
 
 "Well," said Lance in a sleepy tone, "night brings 
 counsel ; let us think it out, and see what can be done 
 to-morrow," 
 
 And in proof of the profoundness of his thinking he 
 shortly after snored. Harold also soon after fell asleep, 
 and they neither of them awoke early.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. 
 
 HE boys woke with a feeling of oppression and 
 anxiety. They foresaw that to take back their 
 parole would assuredly make them closer pri- 
 soners, and so carefully guarded, that there would be 
 scarcely a hope of a successful attempt at escape. 
 
 Lance also, on examining their hoard in the tree, found 
 that the meat he had laid by had been gnawed by some 
 creature — a rat, or something else — and began to per- 
 ceive the difficulty of getting a supply of provisions for 
 any lengthened period of wandering in the caves. While 
 they sat, towards sunset, still discussing in low tones what 
 they should do, they heard footsteps, the tramp of men 
 coming up the mountain-side, the sound of voices, and a 
 laugh, which the mountain re-echoed. 
 
 " The band have returned," said Lance. 
 
 And the next moment there appeared on the plateau 
 five or six bandits, escorting a woman whom they recog- 
 nized at once as Teresa. She had a crying child in her 
 arms, and she herself looked vexed and sullen ; the men 
 were shouting and laughing, full of glee at the success of 
 their enterprise. Harold, with a dreadful suspicion in 
 his mind, went up to the woman and spoke to her. At 
 the sound of his voice the child turned a tearful face 
 round, then clapped his little hands and cried, 
 
 . lOi
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. 105 
 
 " Harold, dear Harold ! " 
 
 Harold sprang forward in a moment and took the boy 
 in his arms, while Algy clasped him round the neck and 
 laid his fair cheek against the boy's. 
 
 " You wicked woman ! " cried Harold furiously, clasp- 
 ing the little one tightly. " Have you even betrayed this 
 innocent?" 
 
 She came close to him and said in a low voice, in her 
 broken English, 
 
 " No ; not mine doing — captain ordered — men seized 
 him. I am sorry ! " 
 
 " Come, come ! " cried a loud voice from the leader of 
 the party ; " carry that youngster to the captain." 
 
 " I will take him," said Harold boldly ; " he will go 
 quietly with me." 
 
 And he walked away leading the child. Teresa lin- 
 gered and looked significantly at Lance (she had 
 occasionally spoken to him since her return from her 
 wedding), but her husband called her to follow him, 
 and she could only point unseen to the hollow chest- 
 nut-tree before she was obliged to obey. 
 
 Harold led the child up to Captain Riccardo. 
 
 " This is a very small prisoner, Signer Capitano," he 
 said ; " but, I think, a more valuable one than any you 
 have taken lately." 
 
 " Ahi !" cncd Giovanni, greed sparkling in his eyes; 
 "and he is my prize, capitano. I shall demand a good 
 share of his ransom." 
 
 " But we helped you ! " cried several voices. 
 
 Harold observed — the boy had the quickest eye for 
 observation we have ever known — that Captain Riccardo 
 turned suddenly so pale that he looked ghastly. 
 
 "His father is no doubt rich," he stammered. 
 
 14
 
 loG JJ'E THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Mr. Dunmore is not his father," said Harold, "he is 
 only Algy's guardian ; but the little fellow is very rich 
 himself, and if he is taken care of, and returned safely, 
 he will be paid for nobly." 
 
 He uttered this information, as he had the first, in 
 slow and distinct Italian, giving it as much of the Sicilian 
 dialect, which he had picked up, as he could : he wanted 
 the men to understand him ; and that they did so was 
 manifest by a murmur of applause which followed his 
 words. 
 
 " It is a good day's work," said Giovanni, grinning. 
 
 The little boy, who was a brave child in his baby way, 
 had been looking earnestly meantime at the captain, and 
 now, meeting his eye, smiled his lovely infantine smile, 
 and put out his tiny hand. The captain took it, patted 
 his cheek, murmured something about a " pretty little 
 one," and turned away with a look of absolute pain on 
 his face. 
 
 " What for have they brought me here, Halald ?" asked 
 little Algy. " Was it to see you .-' Will you take me 
 home again ?" 
 
 "I hope so," said Harold. "Where did they find you?" 
 
 " We was p'aying about in the meadows ever so loflg," 
 said Algy, " but Tesa wasn't there ; and by-bye we were 
 doin' home in the tarriage, when ever so many men 
 jumped out of the trees and taught the horse's head and 
 took me out. Nurse sk'eemed, and I c'ied too vely 
 loud, but nobody turn, and I toudn't get away f'om the 
 naughty men. They tarried me away, and the toach- 
 man drove on with nursey ever so fast ; and we went up 
 the hill. And by-and-bye Tesa come ; and she stolded 
 and c'ied, and took me away from the men and tarried 
 me herself So I tum here."
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. 107 
 
 Harold kissed the poor child. 
 
 " I will take care of you," he said, " now, till we get 
 back to guardy." 
 
 Algy smiled delighted, and Harold, unopposed by the 
 men — who had now gathered outside the centre cave, 
 and were calling loudly to old Ridda to bring them their 
 dinner quickly — led the little boy away, and tried to amuse 
 him on the plateau till dinner should be ready. But 
 Algy was hungry ; it was long past his hour for dinner, 
 and the air of the mountains sharpened his appetite. 
 He began to ask for "somefing to eat," and even to 
 whimper for it, and Harold was glad when the shout of 
 "Dinner" sounded on the air; he took Algy into the 
 cave, and seated him beside himself The captain — 
 taking his place at the head of the table — perceived it, 
 and frowned. 
 
 " Had not the child better go to Teresa .•' " he asked ; 
 " she will feed it." 
 
 " Thanks ! " said Harold ; " but I don't find him any 
 trouble." 
 
 And he cut up some kid, and strewed bread and salt 
 on it for Algy, who ate it with great gusto, and soon 
 began to chatter to the captain himself, who, however, 
 was in a morose fit, and would not respond to the little 
 child's efforts at being agreeable. He (the captain) in 
 fact, ate little himself, but drank more than usual, and 
 grew more morose and ferocious-looking after every cup 
 of wine he swallowed, till Algy grew frightened at his 
 flushed stern face and gloomy frown, and nestled closer 
 to his boy friend. 
 
 Harold was glad when he could escape from the cave, 
 and take Algy into the air again. The child was sleepy 
 now, and slumbered tranquilly on the boy's knees. It
 
 io8 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 was rather dull for Harold, having thus to act the part 
 of nursemaid ; and he thought it a little remiss of Lance 
 not to come and sit by him and chat. But Lance was 
 better employed ; he had understood Teresa's sign, and 
 he hovered about the chestnut-tree till dinner-time, re- 
 turning to it as soon as he and Harold left the cave — 
 where the men were set in for a drinking bout, the cap- 
 tain this time with them. 
 
 Lance saw, as he approached it, a finger issue from the 
 hollow trunk and beckon to him ; he instantly obeyed 
 the summons, and found Teresa inside it. The hollow 
 tree would hold several persons. She made a sign of 
 caution, and then said in French, 
 
 " I want to tell you something. It would be better if 
 I spoke to the Signor Harold ; but he would not listen 
 to me, perhaps, he is so angry. So you must warn him. 
 The bambino — the infant — is in danger. Last night a 
 man I know came and talked to the captain ; he, bad 
 man " (in English), " very bad ! I listened to what they 
 say in cave, and he ordered the captain to send men to 
 carry off the child that goes to drink the milk of Sorace's 
 cows, and to kill hiin," 
 
 Lance exclaimed, horrorstruck, " Good heaven ! " 
 
 Teresa laid her hand on his arm. 
 
 " The captain," she said emphatically, " is not a bravo 
 — he never kills in what yoii call miwdcr, only in fight, 
 or to defend himself He cried out just as you did ; but 
 the other said, ' Remember your oath ! You must obey. 
 This child is condemned and sentenced — to punish his 
 family, and give his money to the cause.' The captain 
 said, sulky like, 'If I must I must ; but, if we take him, 
 the band will not permit me to deprive them of his ran- 
 som.' 'They may be made to think it an accident,' said
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. 109 
 
 this Judas : 'the child can fall over the cliff. You must 
 manage it. You know well that you may not receive 
 money for a life sentenced, and which you are ordered 
 to take. So there is no question of paying.' The cap- 
 tain nodded, and then they went out and walked on the 
 plateau, and I heard no more." 
 
 Lance was horrified. 
 
 " But how," asked he, " can he make the captain obey 
 him in such a case ? " 
 
 "Ah ! know you not ? " said Teresa. " He belongs to 
 a secret society. I knew that before, for since we have 
 been here old Ridda has asked me to clean and keep the 
 captain's chamber, and I found hidden in it this piece of 
 paper, which I could read, and did." And she drew a 
 piece of printed paper from her pocket. " Read it," she 
 said to Lance. 
 
 It was in French, and ran thus : — 
 
 " Everybody, without distinction of religion or nation- 
 ality, can belong to the Society. Applications for ad- 
 mission must be made through members, and every 
 candidate must be sworn in as soon as elected. His 
 real name must be given up to the President and to his 
 sponsor. The President, and six members chosen by him, 
 form the Executive power. Every member is bound to 
 obey the orders of the President, even if they clash with 
 his own interests, as the welfare of the Society goes before 
 that of private individuals. The President calls meetings 
 together every now and then. Members attend armed. 
 Every member must have a gun, a six-barrelled revolver, 
 a dagger, and ammunition. The Society will endeavour 
 to set free any member who may be arrested, and v/ill 
 provide for the families of members deceased, imprisoned, 
 or banished."
 
 no JVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 Lance read the paper with attention. 
 
 " It is part of the rules of a secret society, indeed ! " he 
 said. " Do the rest of the band belong to it, Teresa ? " 
 
 " I don't know about all. My Giovanni does not. I 
 have heard him say it makes men slaves and worse ; but 
 the captain is more French than Sicilian, you see." 
 
 " Thank you very much, Teresa ! " said Lance, " for 
 letting me know this. I will tell Harold, and I am sure 
 he will forgive you his own captivity on account of your 
 goodness now." 
 
 "Ah!" said Teresa, "I meant no harm; the English 
 giovane will only have had a trip to the mountains. I 
 did it for mio Giovanni, you know. But I love the little 
 English child, and I could not bear to think of it crushed 
 and bleeding at the mountain's foot. Besides, why should 
 Giovanni be robbed of his share of the ransom — which 
 would be high? Perchance with it he might be rich 
 enough to leave this life, and set up as a bee-master; 
 chisaf" 
 
 " Teresa," said Lance, " I know that if you and Gio- 
 vanni could manage to get the child back safely to Mr. 
 Dun more, he would get your husband's pardon from the 
 Government, and give you enough to make you rich for 
 life." 
 
 " You think so, signore ? " with sparkling eyes. 
 
 " Yes, I am sure." 
 
 "I should be glad," she said with a sigh, "for I lo^•e 
 the life of the plains ; I do not care for this life as 1 
 thought I should. Old Ridda has nothing to talk about; 
 Giovanni is jealous and won't let me speak to any of the 
 band ; and it is very dull. I clean, for Ridda, the cap- 
 tain's cell; I milk their cows; and I shall make the 
 butter. But there is no one to gossip with ; no fcsfas
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. in 
 
 here, nor shops. That is hard for a girl who has Hved all 
 her life nearly in Messina." 
 
 " Well, Teresa, you must think it over; and if Giovanni 
 can be gained to help us — ' who knows ? ' as you say." 
 
 "And you will tell Signor Harold not to let the child 
 out of his sight, unless it is with me or Giovanni?" she 
 said. 
 
 " I will tell him at once," said Lance ; and, wishing the 
 woman "good bye," he left the tree, and went and seated 
 himself by Harold, to whom in a low voice — lest he 
 should wake the sleeping child — he related his interview 
 with Teresa and her information. 
 
 It is possible that Harold, in his profound distrust of 
 his treacherous model, might not have believed Teresa's 
 story, if he had not himself seen Giles Dunmore, and 
 known his motive for wishing to remove the little baro- 
 net. As it was, he believed and despaired. 
 
 " I don't see how we can save the poor little chap, 
 Lance," he said, " if the captain is really bent on killing 
 him." 
 
 " Well," said Lance, " we could appeal to the band. 
 They won't like to be taken in and lose their share of 
 a big ransom." 
 
 " But many of them maybe also members of the secret 
 society," replied Harold ; " and then they must obey." 
 
 " Be sure the greater number are not," declared Lance. 
 " And, anyhow, the ransom is a great holdfast for us ; 
 but we must watch carefully that the miserable captain 
 does not put the poor little fellow secretly out of the 
 way. Let him eat only meat, and bread from the loaf 
 they all cut from, Harold ; and get Teresa to milk a cow 
 for him, and not let the milk out of her own hands." 
 
 The rest of that anxious day passed off quietly. The
 
 112 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 captain made no sign of taking the child away from the 
 boys ; he suffered Algy to sleep with Harold, and the 
 boys kept watch in turn all night over the doomed child. 
 In the morning Teresa came to wash and dress him. 
 There was no door to the cave, and she feared the child 
 understanding her also; therefore she dared not do more 
 than whisper to Lance, 
 
 " Come to the hollow tree while the men drink to- 
 night." 
 
 He nodded assent ; and Harold, in token of forgive- 
 ness, extended his hand to her, which she took, and, after 
 the fashion of her country, kissed — much to the lad's 
 confusion. 
 
 That morning, soon after breakfast, a bandit came and 
 summoned the two lads to the cave to speak to the cap- 
 tain. They obeyed, leaving Algy with Teresa, who sud- 
 denly appeared on the scene. They found all the band 
 assembled in the great cave, except those out on guard 
 about the mountain ; the captain sat at the head of the 
 table, and before him were pens, ink, paper, and a sand- 
 box. 
 
 " Signorini," he said, addressing the lads, " we wish to 
 speak to you about your ransoms. Signor Lancillotto," 
 to Lance, " we shall no longer wait for your ship to re- 
 turn ; doubtless your rich friends in Messina will ransom 
 you." 
 
 Lance interrupted him to protest that he had no claim 
 on Mr. Lovelace or Mr. Dunmore, and that it was quite 
 impossible to expect them to ransom him ; but the cap- 
 tain listened with a stubborn look on his face. 
 
 " We shall see," he said. " Now, Signor 'Arold, you 
 will write in English what I also shall write in French ; 
 and you will say that, holding you two aad the rich
 
 A TERRIBLE SECRET. 113 
 
 bambino, we are willing to arrange for an equitable and 
 moderate ransom. For each of you young gentlemen we 
 ask two thousand crowns ; for the bambino two thousand 
 more. If not paid, by the laws of the band you will all 
 three be put to death. I said well, my comrades ? " 
 A murmur of approval went round. 
 
 " Now write," he said. 
 
 Harold took the pen and wrote as the bandit dictated, 
 with many ceremonious expressions (with which Italian 
 epistles are generally full), the exorbitant demand which 
 he was pleased to style " moderate." 
 
 "Add, now," said the captain, as Harold paused, "that 
 if this ransom is not sent immediately — that is, in three 
 days — to the inn of the Eagle, at the foot of the moun- 
 tain, I shall have the honour of sending your ears, and 
 the bambino s, to them as a reminder." 
 
 Harold wrote, and added something of his own. 
 
 " What is this at the end ? * I write ' What ? " 
 
 asked the captain, taking the paper from the boy, and 
 looking peeringly at it to make out the English words. 
 
 " It is ' I write from dictation ; do as you think best. 
 As to our ears, Lance and I don't care!* 
 
 The captain looked savagely at him. 
 
 "H'm!" he said; "but you zuill care. NHmporte — 
 your courage and generosity will appeal to your friends." 
 
 " By whom will you send this letter ? " asked Harold. 
 
 " By a man I can trust," was the curt reply. " The 
 signori need not trouble themselves about it." 
 
 And he waved a dismissal to them. 
 
 " So he puts Algy to ransom after all," said Harold. 
 
 " That is a ruse to deceive the band," replied Lance. 
 " I expect that the letter will not reach the hands of I\Ir. 
 Dunmore in time to save Algy's life." 
 
 15
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 FEARS AND PERILS. 
 
 HE hours of that hot sunshine seemed endless to 
 the anxious boys, as they waited for the ban- 
 dits' dinner hour, which was not very early. It 
 came at last, however, and they went in with Algy, who 
 had had his dinner that day with Teresa, but whom 
 Harold still kept near him, though the captain frowned 
 and said the child should be with his nurse. The meal 
 seemed endless also, till the captain gave them leave to 
 depart, and the men — their generally temperate leader 
 still remaining with them — settled down to their usual 
 debauch. 
 
 Lance flew at once to the hollow chestnut-tree, where 
 he found Teresa awaiting him; she was evidently greatly 
 excited. 
 
 " The captain is a traitor to the band ! " she exclaimed. 
 '* He has given directions to Paolo, the man who is his 
 slave, not to reach the town in time for the ransom to 
 arrive at the fixed day. I heard it all." 
 
 "But how," cried Lance with sudden curiosity, "how 
 do you manage to hear everything?" 
 
 "Listen. The last captain had a place in the rock 
 scooped out — high up — from whence he used to look 
 down on the men and listen to what they said. A true
 
 FEARS AND PERILS. in 
 
 Dionysius's ear ! Well, I found it out, davvero, I did, 
 before I had been here four and twenty hours, and I 
 listen often. That is how I heard the stranger talk to 
 Riccardo ; that is how I have heard his new treason." 
 
 She paused ; she had talked herself out of breath. 
 
 " But what is to be done } " asked practical Lance. 
 
 " I have told all to Giovanni ; he is furious at the 
 cheat. Look you, it is such a loss to him ! He is not 
 sure of all the band, or he would tell them how the cap- 
 tain is going to cheat them out of all those thousands of 
 crowns. Some may be members of the society, you see. 
 If all were like Giovanni he would tell them, and they 
 would shoot the captain, and choose a fresh one who was 
 not a slave to a vow ; but he fears it cannot be done." 
 
 Again she paused. 
 
 " Why does he not agree to my proposal," said Lance, 
 " and escape with us all ? He would get his pardon and 
 a good sum — enough to set him up as a bee-master." 
 
 " He is thinking about it," said Teresa, " Come here 
 to-morrow at this hour, and if he consents he will meet 
 you here. I dare stay no longer." 
 
 Lance followed her into the open air, and she passed 
 unseen to the part of the caves appropriated to herself 
 and Ridda. Lance went thoughtfully back to Harold, 
 who was watching little Algy playing on the grass ; he 
 told Harold all that had passed with Teresa. 
 
 " There is hope, then," said Harold ; " it is greatly to 
 their interests to help us, therefore we shall be helped. 
 No immediate danger threatens little Algy ? " 
 
 " I hope not," replied Lance ; " but don't let him eat 
 anything the captain may give him in the shape of sweets 
 and cake ; these Italians are subtle poisoners." 
 
 " I will persuade the poor little chap to bring every-
 
 Ii6 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 thing he gives him to me," said Harold. " He is such a 
 generous httle fellow, he will do it, and then I shall throw 
 them away." 
 
 "The sweets have to be made first, I expect," said 
 Lance ; " and it is a capital thing for us that he dares 
 not risk exasperating the band by any open action." 
 
 By-and-bye the captain himself appeared on the scene, 
 and Algy, who had taken rather a fancy to him, ran in- 
 stantly to meet him, and clasped his little arms round 
 his knees, looking up laughing in his face. To Harold's 
 surprise that stern face softened; the captain's eyes looked 
 to him actually humid. The man kissed the child, who 
 patted his cheeks with his little hands and laughed. 
 Riccardo carried him to where Harold sat, and threw 
 himself on the grass beside him, keeping the child in his 
 arms. 
 
 " Has this little creature a mother ? " he asked the boy 
 abruptly. 
 
 " No ; neither father nor mother," replied Harold ; " he 
 is God's child," he added in Sicilian. 
 
 The captain shivered. 
 
 " Poveretto ! " he murmured ; " his will be a lonely 
 childhood. It were well if his Heavenly Father took 
 him to Paradise." 
 
 " Well," said Harold, " I am in a like case. I am an 
 orphan ; but I don't want to be taken to Paradise just 
 yet on account of that. I hope to do something in this 
 world first ; and Algy may grow up a great and useful 
 man, you know. As God has not called him to Himself 
 by his last illness, we may hope He means Algy to live 
 — and His will is supreme." 
 
 Again a strange shiver passed through the captain's 
 strong frame.
 
 FEARS AND PERILS. 117 
 
 " You shiver," said Harold, " Do you know what we 
 say in England when one shivers like that ? " 
 
 " No," replied the captain. 
 
 " We say, ' Some one is walking over our grave,' " the 
 boy informed him. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Riccardo, " a strange notion. The Arabs 
 have taught the Sicilians that it means an evil spirit is 
 near ; but these are old women's fancies. Tell me, if 
 you can, something of the little one's parents." 
 
 " His father was Sir Algernon Dunmore," replied Ha- 
 rold, who had had all his information from Mr. Dunmore, 
 "who was a friend to Italy, and at one time a friend also 
 of Mazzini and the patriots. He was much in Italy; he 
 fought under Garibaldi, and he married an Italian lady, 
 but he did not let his friends know of his marriage, be- 
 cause at that time he was not Sir Algernon — his father 
 was alive, and was very angry with him for his Italian 
 sympathies, and would not have received his wife. But 
 the old gentleman died ; Sir Algernon — as he had be- 
 come then — went home to the funeral, and did not return 
 immediately to Italy or send for his wife, though it seems 
 he meant to have her home (he had written to tell her 
 so) ; but he was thrown from his horse when hunting, 
 and killed on the spot. Well, then, Mr. Dunmore, his 
 cousin, came into the baronetcy and fortune ; but soon 
 after he had a letter from little Algy's mother, telling 
 him who she was, and of Algy's birth. Then Mr. Dun- 
 more went to her ; she did not live long after her hus- 
 band, and he has taken care of little Algy ever since, and 
 gave up to him (as soon as he had proofs of the marriage) 
 both his title and fortune." 
 
 "A most generous man!" said Captain Riccardo; "but 
 then he is no longer rich himself?"
 
 ii8 JVE THREE BO^S. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! he is ; he had a good property of his own 
 from his father," replied Harold. 
 Captain Riccardo reflected a little. 
 " Tell me," he said, " have you ever heard whether this 
 Sir Algernon who is dead was ever a Carbonaro — I mean, 
 one of a secret society of patriots ? " 
 
 " I never heard that he was," said Harold. "Why do 
 you ask ? " 
 
 " Oh ! for nothing— simply curiosity," said the captain, 
 shrugging his shoulders. " Ah ! thou art impatient, my 
 little one," as he let Algy, who was now struggling to 
 get away from him, out of his arms. 
 
 There was a pause ; then Riccardo rose. 
 " I hope the signori will shortly be free," he said. 
 '■'Addio!" And he returned to the cave. 
 
 Harold thought over the captain's words in connection 
 with what he already knew of the Dun more history. The 
 friend of Mazzini might possibly belong to the Carbonari. 
 Had he ever betrayed them ? And was his child there- 
 fore doomed to the punishment he had escaped ? If so, 
 poor little Algy's life promised to be a short one ; but 
 Harold did not believe this. 
 
 " It is a pretence of Giles Dunmore's," he thought, "to 
 get the inheritance for himself. No society could be so 
 wicked, even if they should gain by such a deed ; yet, if 
 Riccardo believes him, the danger is the same for the 
 child." 
 
 By-and-bye Teresa came to take Algy away to his tea. 
 Before she arrived, however, Harold had won a promise 
 from the child that he would not eat any sweetmeats till 
 he had shown them to Harold. 
 
 "Not from any one," he impressed upon the child, 
 " for fear they should make Algy ill."
 
 FEARS AND PERILS. 119 
 
 And Harold knew that the little fellow understood 
 and would faithfully keep a promise. 
 
 Towards evening the brigands began to assemble on 
 the plateau to talk and smoke, and formed picturesque 
 groups under the trees. Giovanni was one of the num- 
 ber, and Harold thought he perceived that the bandit 
 tried to make himself popular with his companions : 
 flattering the prowess of one, laughing at the jests of 
 another, and often speaking of the big ransom to be 
 gained for the baby boy. The boys went early to rest, 
 to relieve Teresa, who sat in their cave with Algy till 
 they came. 
 
 The little child lay sleeping peacefully ; his hands 
 clasped on the coverlet, his cheeks flushed with a lovely 
 crimson. Teresa sat beside him, watching him ; she 
 rose as the boys entered. 
 
 "The captain came just now," she said, "and gave the 
 bambino some chocolate creams ; but would you think 
 it ? He has not eaten them, the sweet lamb ! He has 
 kept them for Signor Harold." 
 
 " Where are they ? " asked Harold. 
 
 " Under his pillow, signore," replied Teresa. 
 
 Harold felt for the little package, and secured it in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " It is well for Algy that Mr. Dunmore has taught him 
 to keep a promise," he thought. 
 
 The night passed quietly, and Harold rose from shep 
 thankful, as he never had been before, that they had been 
 watched over, and the child protected during their slum- 
 bers, by Divine Providence. It is when we are in perils 
 from which we are powerless to deliver ourselves, that 
 we feel how good it is to have an Almighty Protector 
 strong to save.
 
 120 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 That day had apparently also no danger. Algy had 
 been quite content, when he heard that Harold had his 
 *' sweeties," to give them up to his keeping, to be eaten 
 " by-and-bye." 
 
 The captain was gone away "on business," the lieu- 
 tenant told the boys at breakfast, and the atmosphere 
 felt the clearer for his absence ; but they saw his feather 
 coming up the mountain-side just before dinner, and— a 
 little uneasy at all his movements — they studied his face 
 as he approached them. It wore a sullen scowl, which 
 promised little good to his prisoners; and when Algy 
 ran up to him he put the child aside with a muttered oath. 
 At dinner also he looked surly and ill pleased ; but he 
 drank a good deal of wine, and did not leave the table 
 when the boys did. Lance, as soon as they could get 
 away, hastened to the usual trysting-place, and on enter- 
 ing the hollow chestnut, found himself face to face with 
 Giovanni.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ENGLISH BOYS' HONOUR. 
 
 HE bandit bowed and grinned, 
 
 "So, Giovanni !" cried Lance, "Teresa has 
 sent you ? " 
 
 " She has, signore," reph'ed Giovanni, in broken but 
 intelligible English; "and I came to say that since the 
 captain means to cheat us all, I will forestall him, and 
 cheat the captain." And he gave a gruff laugh. 
 
 " You are right," said Lance, smiling ; " and you will 
 find it to your advantage." 
 
 " Ebbene 1 " said the bandit. " Now we must t'ink of 
 our escape. The signori will promise me m handivriting 
 that I shall receive the ransom myself, for me and my 
 comrades, which the band have demanded for them- 
 selves ? " 
 
 " We will give you a written promise for that sum,'' 
 said Lance, fully aware of the value which Mr. Dunmore 
 would set upon the child. "When shall we have it ready, 
 amico ? " 
 
 "To-night," said Giovanni, "for we must escape at 
 midnight. A comrade of mine will be on guard at the 
 mouth of the cave ; I shall be on guard down below, 
 where he will lead you. Then we must hasten ; it will 
 
 121 l6
 
 JP'E THREE BO VS. 
 
 not be easy to escape the lower circle of guards, but the 
 money makes it to us worth the risk." 
 
 •' We shall be truly grateful to you," said Lance ; " and 
 this evening Signor Harold and I will tell the captain 
 that we re-take our parole, and mean to do our best to 
 
 escape." 
 
 " But," cried Giovanni, aghast, " to do so will rouse the 
 captain's suspicions, signore. You must not do it. It 
 is because he trusts you that we shall the more easily 
 
 escape." 
 
 "For the same reason — because he trusts us," said 
 Lance, "we cannot break our word. No English boy 
 with any sense of honour would break a promise." 
 
 " Then you may as well say you will not escape ! " de- 
 clared Giovanni. 
 
 " Oh, no ! If we tell him that we re-take our parole, 
 and will escape the first opportunity, he can have nothing 
 to reproach us with ; but we may escape." 
 
 Giovanni was very discontented ; he muttered remon- 
 strances, and at last threats. But Lance was firm ; he 
 would not win liberty at the cost of honour. At length 
 the Italian was obliged to yield. 
 
 " You will be imprisoned in the cells," said Giovanni ; 
 " and how can we get you out ? " 
 
 " You probably know how," said Lance ; " if not, why, 
 we must stay in them, and you will lose your ransom." 
 
 Giovanni might have insisted still longer on his view 
 of the case, but he dared not linger longer, and after re- 
 connoitring the plateau carefully, through a small hole 
 in the trunk, he managed to steal away unseen. Lance, 
 after a brief interval, followed him, and hastened to 
 Harold to tell him what he had heard. 
 
 The boys' hearts beat high with hope and excitement,
 
 ENGLISH BOYS' HONOUR. 
 
 and also with some little anxiety, for if they failed in 
 their attempt they had not much mercy to expect from 
 the ferocious Riccardo. 
 
 " After all, though," said Harold, " zve also are worth 
 money to him ; he won't kill us willingly. But poor 
 little Algy would be a certain victim," 
 
 "He would either way," said Lance; "to escape is the 
 poor little fellow's sole chance for life." 
 
 The two lads watched the sun set that evening with 
 emotions they had never experienced before in their 
 young lives. They might never see it rise again, or 
 might see it with the memory of a poor slaughtered 
 babe to haunt them all their days. 
 
 At last twilight closed down — the brief grey which 
 lasts so very short a time in Sicily — to be succeeded 
 by the starlight which is so bright and clear there ; and 
 they were summoned to supper, Teresa having shortly 
 before borne off Algy to bed. The boys took care to 
 eat a good supper, for they thought they might perhaps 
 need all their strength. When the supper was over, 
 Lance rose and turned to the captain. 
 
 " Captain Riccardo," he said in French, " my friend 
 and myself have been reflecting on the terms you have 
 demanded from our friends as our ransom. We think 
 we have no right to tax them so heavily, and we beg 
 now to take back our parole, and to inform you that we 
 mean to escape the first opportunity." 
 
 "That is so," assented Harold. 
 
 Captain Riccardo twisted round on his seat and stared 
 at them, pulling his long moustache furiously. 
 
 " You will escape," he hissed between his teeth, "young 
 rascals .'' I will shoot you first. Here, Pietro, Giacomo ; 
 take these young coqjiins off to the prison cells, and take
 
 124 ^^-E THREE BOYS. 
 
 care that they don't come out till their ransom arrives. 
 I will teach you to insult and defraud the band like 
 this ! " 
 
 The two bandits named, who were the very lowest — 
 exceptj perhaps, the absent Paolo — of the band, at once 
 advanced. Lance and Harold did not attempt to make 
 any resistance. 
 
 " The word of an Englishman," said Lance, turning to 
 the captain, "is more binding than your prison cells. 
 We are free of that bond, now." 
 
 " Cut off his ears ! " shouted Riccardo. 
 
 But the brigands, with whom the boys had become 
 rather favourites, appeared not to hear, and taking an 
 arm of each boy, led them away unresisting to the prison 
 cells, which were two inner caves down a long passage 
 in the rock, about a quarter of a mile below the great 
 cavern. These caves were shut in by heavy iron doors. 
 Into one of these the two boys were thrust by Pietro. 
 
 " No need to give more than one the trouble of watch- 
 ing you," grinned Giacomo ; "since there is plenty of room 
 for both here. Pietro will be at the end of the passage." 
 
 Then he closed and locked the door, and the bo}'s 
 heard the brigands' retreating footsteps re-echoing in the 
 rocky passage. They were in utter darkness, and the 
 cave smelt damp and like a grave. 
 
 " It is just as well we were on parole at first," said 
 Lance ; " this is about as unpleasant an abode as one 
 could imagine." 
 
 " Day and night in the dark, I expect," said Harold, 
 " for there is no aperture but the door." 
 
 " Let us feel for a seat," said Lance. And the next 
 moment uttered an exclamation of " Ugh ! I put my 
 hand down on a toad."
 
 ENGLISH BOYS' HONOUR. 125 
 
 " There must be many here, and snakes also, perhaps," 
 said Harold. 
 
 " I don't know about that," returned his friend ; " I am 
 altogether ignorant of Sicilian reptiles, but I think we 
 had better stand up till Giovanni delivers us." 
 
 Harold suggested that Lance should beguile the time 
 with a " yarn ; " and the lad was quite ready to " spin '' 
 one. 
 
 " I read a capital one in a French book the other day," 
 he said ; " a book called * La Peau du Tigre.' It was 
 of two Frenchmen who went out to shoot antelopes in 
 Africa. Well, they killed a big one, and one of the fel- 
 lows hoisted its fore-legs over his shoulders and carried 
 it on his back. Soon after, with a terrific roar, a huge 
 lion sprang out at them. One ran away, but, glancing 
 back, saw his friend on the earth and the lion on him. 
 He fled with great swiftness to get aid, and returned 
 with a large party, well armed, of French and natives. 
 The lion was still at his feast. They shot him, and then 
 hastened to raise, as they thought and as it looked, the 
 mangled body of their friend. Behold ! when raised up, 
 he was alive and all right : he had fallen on his face, and 
 the lion had feasted on the body of the antelope." 
 
 Harold lauf^hed. 
 
 o 
 
 " A very good story," he said ; " and possible, though 
 not probable. That book is worth reading." 
 
 " Now it is your turn," said Lance. 
 
 "What shall I tell you?" asked Harold. '^Oh! I think 
 I remember an instance of a fellow in our own family 
 being frightened half his life about nothing. Our house- 
 keeper told it to me. There is a superstition at the 
 Raven's Nest, that whenever any one there is to die, a 
 little — very small — old woman in black is seen going into
 
 IVE THREE DOYS. 
 
 their bed-room. Well, my Uncle George, when he was 
 a young man, and just about to embark with his regi- 
 ment for India, on going up to dress for dinner one 
 evening, saw a very little woman in black in the corridor 
 leading to his room. She went straight into it! He 
 was fairly startled, but he followed her in. Behold ! there 
 was no one. There was a fire sparkling on the hearth, 
 and two candles lighted on the dressing-table, so he 
 could see all over the room, in which stood a fine old 
 four-post bed. 
 
 " Though he believed that he had seen the family ghost, 
 he went up one side of the bed and looked under it, but 
 found no one, nor was there any one in the closet ; so he 
 was convinced that the little old woman had vanished, 
 and that she had come to warn him of speedy death. 
 Of course he was a good deal cast down ; but he did not 
 tell his mother or father or Uncle Jasper, his eldest 
 brother and he sailed with a heavy heart. However, no 
 shipwreck happened as he had expected, and though he 
 was in several battles, and distinguished himself, he lived 
 on, till, when he was about thirty-five, he came home again. 
 
 "There was quite a houseful of guests then at the 
 Raven's Nest, amongst them the rector and his daugh- 
 ter, a very handsome young woman of twenty-five or six. 
 After dinner my grandfather said something about the 
 gratitude they ought to feel that, after passing through 
 so many dangers, George had returned safely. He 
 laughed and said yes, that he had proved the family 
 ghost to be an impostor, though she had given him a 
 great fright, and for some years he had daily expected 
 death. His mother, of course, asked what he meant, and 
 he related how he had seen the little old woman. Then 
 Miss Grey, the rector's daughter, exclaimed,
 
 ENGLISH BOYS' HOXOUR. 
 
 127 
 
 " ' Oh, I am so sorry ! It was I ! I had dressed up in 
 the housekeeper's bonnet and cloak, and was walkhig in 
 the corridor playing 'ghost,' when I heard somebody 
 open the door at the end of it, and I ran away and hid 
 behind the window-curtains in one of the bed-rooms, I 
 peeped, and saw Mr. George come in and go to look 
 under the bed, and whilst he did so I ran out of the 
 room as fast as I could. I am so sorry to have made 
 such a painful impression on you ; but I was only ten 
 years old, you know, and never thought of your being 
 deceived by me.' 
 
 "Well, there was a great laugh at my uncle, and in the 
 end he married the ghost/' 
 
 Lance, as in duty bound, found this a capital story, 
 and they went on with alternate yarns till they were 
 rather tired; when, in the middle of a "dreadful murder" 
 related by Harold, Lance exclaimed, 
 
 •' Hist 1 I hear a nuisc 1 " 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 "mm 
 
 % 
 
 ^'i 
 
 «H|^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 :<gi^^b 
 
 
 f^l 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 ^*1 
 
 K^ 
 
 :1L 
 
 d'^^f^ :< 
 
 ^-_-^ 
 
 
 Wj\ 
 
 "^f 
 ^ 
 
 ■^^^IL^. 
 

 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "WE three" once more. 
 
 E was right : it was a noise, and a frightful one — 
 a deep distant groan ! A few moments' silence 
 followed, and then they heard the key, which 
 shot a host of bolts in their iron door, grate in the wards, 
 and they saw Giovanni, a lantern in his hand, standing 
 before them. 
 
 " Come," he whispered ; and they followed him swiftly 
 and silently down the rocky passage, and soon stood in 
 the soft clear starlight ; but both shuddered as they had 
 to step over the body of Pietro, who lay wounded and 
 bleeding in their path. Giovanni led with a swiftness 
 which tried their speed down the side of the mountain, 
 and about fifty yards below they found Teresa, bearing 
 little Algy fast asleep in her arms. She turned with 
 them, and accompanied them with equal swiftness down 
 the winding mountain path. As if by a common instinct, 
 no one spoke. Harold's artist-eye noticed the solemn 
 beauty of the scene partially revealed by the clear star- 
 light, — the sombre shadows of the projections from the 
 mountain, the gloom of the heavy cypresses, the solemn 
 stillness, over the whole scene, the shadowy distance, and 
 the gleam of the occasional fireflies as they darted by. 
 The silence was profound; there was nothing audible 
 
 128
 
 '■IVE THREE" ONCE MORE. 129 
 
 but the soft breeze sighing through the trees, or far off 
 the cry of a night-bird. 
 
 They had proceeded a good way down the mountain- 
 side, when this quiet was suddenly broken by distant 
 shouts and the discharge of a gun. Then Giovanni spoke. 
 
 ''Per Bacco!" he said savagely, "we are pursued. This 
 comes from your folly, signori, in taking back your parole. 
 The captain's suspicion was roused at once : he has gone 
 to the garrison cells and found Pietro." 
 
 "But we are in advance : can we not even now escape.-'" 
 asked Lance. 
 
 "They will cut us off by some by-path," said Giovanni 
 sullenly. "We had best scatter, so that some at least 
 may escape." 
 
 " Give me the child, Teresa," said Harold, holding out 
 his arms. She obeyed him at once. 
 
 " It is best so for the poor lamb," she said, giving the 
 child a passionate kiss. " God bless him and you, you 
 brave boy 1 " 
 
 " Pursue this path," said the bandit, " till it divides ; 
 then take the downward one. I and Teresa will try to 
 reach the soldiers who have been on the m.ountains the 
 last two days. Addio!" 
 
 And he and Teresa, the latter waving an adieu, disap- 
 peared in the thick brushwood of the descent. 
 
 " Follow them, Lance," said Harold. 
 
 " Not I ! " replied the midshipman : " I shall stay with 
 you, and help carry that poor little beggar. If he were 
 not so dead sleepy, he might ride on your shoulder." 
 
 " I think Teresa has given him poppy-juice, he is so 
 soundly asleep," said Harold. 
 
 As they talked, they went on at their quickest pace, 
 and reached the point where the path divided unintcr- 
 
 17
 
 I30 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 rupted ; but here they heard voices not far off, and almost 
 ran, in their eagerness, down the precipitous path. But 
 the spot where the path branched off was more open than 
 the sheltered way they had come. Unluckily for them, 
 also, the night was sufficiently light with the moon for 
 them to be perceived, and from the ridge above the 
 bandits had seen them. The fact was proclaimed by a 
 shout which rent the air, and the captain and one of 
 the gang started instantly in pursuit of the fugitives. 
 The boys, flying with a swiftness which rendered them 
 nearly breathless, kept on their course. 
 
 "If we could only find an opening to turn down!" 
 gasped Lance. 
 
 But the narrow path they were running in wound 
 round the mountain at the edge of a deep precipice, and 
 on the other side huge boulders of rock rose to the 
 height of twenty or thirty feet above them, and were too 
 steep to attempt to climb with the child in their arms. 
 Moreover there was really no foothold on them. The 
 runners could scarcely run abreast, so narrow was the 
 path ; they therefore presented a target easy to hit to 
 the pursuers had they chosen to fire. But to kill their 
 prisoners would be a pecuniary sacrifice on their part, 
 and while there existed a chance of capturing them, the 
 brigands would jealously guard their lives. Harold, well 
 aware, however, of the captain's fell designs against the 
 little heir, managed to bend the head of the sleeping 
 child down on his breast, and thus sheltered him with 
 his own body ; but the weight of the boy began to tell 
 on him. 
 
 " Fly, Lance," he gasped, " fly ! I cannot hold out 
 much longer." 
 
 *' No, no ; give me the boy." And standing on the
 
 THE ESCAPE FROM THE BANDITS.
 
 "WE THREE" ONCE MORE. 131 
 
 verge of the precipice, the young sailor steadily lifted 
 Algy hito his own arms. But even that momentary 
 pause gave an advantage to the pursuers. They gained 
 on the boys ; escape seemed impossible, for there still 
 stretched before them that weary length of rocky path 
 between the boulders and the precipice. The captain 
 was now very near them ; he roared ferociously, 
 
 " You young villains ! I will cut off your ears and the 
 tip of your noses ; stop this instant!" and a volley of oaths 
 followed. 
 
 At that moment there was the report of a gun ; the 
 bandit uttered a wild cry, flung up his arms, and fell over 
 the precipice. The fellow running behind him paused 
 evidently fearing an ambush, and ran swiftly back, while 
 there issued from under the great boulders — by a slight 
 projection only of which he had been concealed — a most 
 singular figure : a peasant boy of Sicily by his dress, but 
 armed with a rifle and a belt full of pistols and daggers. 
 He satisfied them, however, as to his nationality by cry- 
 ing, as he watched the flying brigand, 
 
 "Dick to the rescue!" 
 
 " Dick ! ! " cried his astonished friends. 
 
 "Ay, it's I; but come along, we have no time to 
 talk." And he led the way rapidly along the same path 
 till they perceived a short road running up the moun- 
 tain, so narrow as to allow only of one person walking 
 on it, cut out of the solid rock. 
 
 The boys followed Dick up it, and after half an hour's 
 walk by winding ways, found themselves in front of a 
 wall of stone, covered with ivy and creeping plants, which 
 barred the way ; but Dick speedily removed the veil of 
 vegetation, and showed them the entrance to a cavern. 
 It (the entrance) was extremely narrow, and only about
 
 132 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 six feet high. They entered, and found themselves in a 
 small cave ; or it might be the outer cave of others, for 
 there were several small apertures at the back of it. 
 That it was used for purposes of storage by the bri- 
 gands was manifest, for a cask stood on its end near the 
 back aperture. 
 
 The boys glanced wonderingly round them. 
 
 "A regular fortress, isn't it?" said Dick, re-loading his 
 rifle. " Men can only come up that path single file, and 
 we could clear them off — easy. In this place, we three 
 are a match for the whole band." 
 
 "As long as our ammunition lasts," said Lance. 
 
 " But we 've heaps and heaps ; that cask 's full of 
 powder," replied Dick. " I opened it this morning and 
 saw it was. But, I say, why don't you sit down and 
 rest ? You seem sadly out of condition to be so blown," 
 pityingly. 
 
 " Of course we are," said Lance. " And Harold has 
 had a heavy child to carry." 
 
 " Well, put your jacket on the cask and lay the kid on 
 it, and you two sit down and rest. I '11 keep watch at 
 the door." 
 
 Lance obeyed the injunction, and put Algy, still sleep- 
 ing, on the gunpowder-cask. He was safe enough, but 
 Harold, imaginative as he was, did not like the idea of 
 so perilous a couch, and transferred the little fellow to 
 the floor of the cave, seating himself by him, and putting 
 the little head tenderly on his own knees. 
 
 " But, Dick," asked Lance, also flung on the floor at 
 his full length, " how came you to arrive so in the nick 
 of time } " 
 
 " Well," replied Dick, " I have been on the mountain 
 these last three days searching for you: I was determined
 
 "WE THREE'' ONCE 31 ORE. 133 
 
 I 'd find you and help you if I could, so I got these 
 clothes — I say, ain't I picturesque, Harold ? — and learned 
 up about half a dozen Sicilian sentences, as 'Give me a 
 little bread,' * For charity a little water,' * Tell me how to 
 take these arms ' (they were packed in a small case) ' to 
 the gentlemen of the mountains,' with ' Thank you,' and 
 'The saints reward you as you deserve,' which has a 
 double meaning, you see. Well, with this vocabulary I 
 started, and found it quite easy to get here, Nature having 
 provided me with an Italian countenance, you see — 
 black eyes, etc., etc. Well, the peasants who live on the 
 mountains, the charcoal-burners, bee-keepers, and goat- 
 herds, were awfully civil when they knew where I wanted 
 to go, thinking ' the gentlemen ' meant the bandits, and 
 so I crept upwards. When I reached the point where I 
 had learned the first sentinels were — the outlying piquet, 
 you know — I turned short off, and climbed up till I 
 gained a point a little way from here, and yesterday 
 morning I found this cave. I hid till to-night in it, and 
 came out exploring about midnight. I was going back, 
 when I heard shouts and cries, and I hid behind the 
 projection of the rock, as you know, and relieved you of 
 the nearest and following bandit. By the way, I think 
 the fellow I hit won't survive that tumble over the preci- 
 pice. Should you think he will ? " 
 
 " I fancy you shot him through the heart, Dick," said 
 Lance, " for he threw up his arms before he rolled over. 
 But how good you have been to us ! What risks you 
 have run to save our lives ; and you have saved them !" 
 
 "Or your ears," laughed Dick, "or noses. I heard 
 what that rascal said, and that made me fire at once. 
 At any rate, I 've saved your beauty. How soundly that 
 brat does sleep!"
 
 134 f^^^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 " Yes, he must have been drugged," said Lance. 
 
 " Lucky for you, or he would have cried out." 
 
 " No, I think not," said Harold ; " he is a plucky little 
 fellow, and would not be afraid with us." 
 
 " By-the-bye, how did you come on the precipice path- 
 way } " asked Dick ; and Harold in his turn told of their 
 escape. 
 
 " I hope Giovanni will reach the soldiers," said Dick, 
 " I know they have been sent out. We have plenty of 
 ammunition, you see, but no provisions. Luckily there 
 is a spring in the inner cavern." 
 
 " I have some bread in my pocket which I purloined 
 at supper," said Lance; "I always look out for the com- 
 missariat." 
 
 Meantime the bandit who had fled had reached his 
 comrades and told them an alarming tale : how there was 
 an ambush of troops on the path by the precipice, and 
 how they had shot the captain and pelted him with balls, 
 but that he had escaped by the aid of St. Rosalia, to 
 whom he vowed a taper. The brigands are, as a rule, 
 as superstitious as they are ferocious, and to them reli- 
 gion is a feeling, a sentiment, something to trust in — but 
 never, as its name means, a restraint. 
 
 There was a consultation as to what was to be done. 
 If the precipice path was lined with soldiers, it was far 
 too perilous to traverse ; besides, the captain must be res- 
 cued, if rescue were possible, but that could wait, since 
 Giacomo declared that their leader had been killed. 
 They finally decided to take a roundabout path to the 
 other end of the precipice path, and reconnoitre for the 
 enemy, into whose hands they believed their prisoners 
 had fallen. A party set off, therefore, to explore, other 
 spies were told off to proceed above the boulders and
 
 "PVE THREE" ONCE MORE. 
 
 135 
 
 look over on the fatal path, and a few went down to the 
 bottom of the precipice to recover the body of their 
 captain, a descent this of five hundred feet ! And thus 
 day dawned upon the mountains, and the boys were still 
 safe in their cave.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN THE CAVES. 
 
 S the long lines of light stole between the ivy and 
 creeper leaves into their cave, little Algy woke 
 and stared round him with childish wonder. 
 
 " Oh, Halald ! where is we .-' " he exclaimed. 
 
 " We are hiding in a cave," said Harold. " You like 
 playing hide-and-seek, don't you, Algy } " 
 
 " Vely much," cried Algy, clapping his hands. "Who 
 is seeking for us, Halald ? Is it Giovanni or Te'sa?" 
 
 "It is some unkind men," said his boy guardian; "and 
 you mustn't make a bit of noise, or they will find us." 
 
 " Then I won't," said Algy, laying his little finger on 
 his lips, and nodding his head. "But, Halald, I want 
 my b'eakfast." 
 
 " We have only a bit of bread," said Lance, drawing it 
 out of his pocket, and dividing it in four portions, one of 
 which he gave to Algy, who began contentedly to eat it. 
 
 When their breakfast was over they went separately 
 into the inner cave to drink of the spring, which was very 
 fresh and cold. Harold and Algy went last — Lance 
 had now taken Dick's place as sentinel — and the child 
 laughed gleefully when Harold showed him how to catch 
 the water in the hollow of his hand, and drink ; it v/as 
 
 136
 
 IN THE CAVES. 137 
 
 great fun to Algy. But the next moment Dick's head 
 appeared at the aperture, and he said laconically, 
 
 " They 're coming." 
 
 Harold took Algy's hand. 
 
 " Algy," he said, " I am going to fight the naughty 
 men. You stay here, and if I don't come back soon, try 
 to find a way out there," pointing to the back of the cave, 
 which seemed full of apertures. "But I will soon be 
 back, dear. You will mind me, won't you, Algy .-' " 
 
 " Es," said Algy, stoutly ; " I '11 wait, and if you don't 
 turn I '11 lun away." 
 
 The r was Algy's great difificulty. 
 
 Harold, thus assured, joined his friends at the mouth 
 of the cavern. One of the bandits was ascending the 
 ridge, trailing his rifle. As he drew the vegetation aside 
 and found himself confronted by the boys, he drew back 
 and let it fall again ; but Lance, levelling as low as pos- 
 sible, instantly fired, and the man fell with a cry. 
 
 " Shall we go out and help him ? " asked Harold 
 eagerly : " he is quite alone." 
 
 " We dare not ; there may be a lot of fellows behind 
 him," said Lance. 
 
 " Well, I '11 risk it," said Dick : " I don't half like killing 
 and wounding people. I was being brought up to cure 
 them instead, once upon a time." And he boldly issued 
 from the cave and approached the fallen man. 
 
 " Where are you hurt .'' " he asked, bending over him. 
 
 The fellow flashed up a knife at him, and Dick barely 
 avoided its stab. 
 
 " Oh ! " he said, " if that 's your game you may lie 
 there ! I came to help you." 
 
 The brigand looked curiously at him. 
 
 '•You do not speak as a Sicilian does," he said, "but
 
 138 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 you may be honest : for the sake of St. Rosalia help 
 me ! " And he groaned deeply. 
 
 Dick turned back. 
 
 " Throw away your knife," he said, " if you want me 
 to help you." 
 
 The bandit obeyed. 
 
 "Now swear by St. Rosalia that you have no other 
 weapon," commanded Dick. 
 
 " I swear by Santa Rosalia that I have not. My rifle 
 lies yonder," was the assurance he received. 
 
 "Where are you hurt V asked Dick again, approaching 
 him. 
 
 " My ankle is smashed," said the brigand. 
 
 Dick proceeded then to examine the man's wounded 
 ankle. It was badly hurt. He called to Harold to give 
 him a wet handkerchief, joined his own to it, and really 
 with some skill bound up the wound. Then he took 
 some coarse string from his pocket, and, with Harold's 
 assistance, tied the man's hands together. 
 
 " Now," he said, " lie there till some one comes for 
 you." > 
 
 The man was in great pain. 
 
 " Vedete, signore'' he said, " I may lie here and die 
 unless help comes. I see you are a friend of the pri- 
 soners. Well, I will tell you how to escape from here if 
 you will promise to send some one to my assistance." 
 
 ** I will promise," said Dick. 
 
 "Then don't attempt to get out by the long pathway; 
 there are sentinels at each end : you can never leave it. 
 Go through the back cave, take the first turning to the 
 left (the heart side, remember), then the next to the 
 right, then cross the tree-bridge and go right on ; turn 
 to the left again, and you will find an outlet. Once out-
 
 IN THE CAVES. 139 
 
 side, go straight down till you see a charcoal-burner's 
 cottage ; go to it, and say that Guiseppe sent you, and 
 bid them come here to help me." 
 
 " But suppose they made me a prisoner ? " 
 
 " They will not," declared the man eagerly, " they will 
 not ! " 
 
 And he looked up with imploring eyes at the boys, 
 
 "Well, I'll risk it," said Dick, remembering his dis- 
 guise ; " but if I find you have deceived us about the exit 
 from the cave, I will come back and stab you with your 
 own knife!" picking it up, and the rifle also, as he spoke. 
 
 " Can we trust him } " asked Harold as they re-entered 
 the cave. 
 
 " I think so: for his own sake he will have spoken the 
 truth. Let us get on, lest his comrades should chance 
 to arrive," said Dick. 
 
 They found Algy waiting patiently when they entered 
 the inner cave, and taking his hand, they hurried forward 
 through the furthermost aperture to the left. It was a 
 long passage, very intricate, and evidently winding round 
 the mountain. But they passed on without obstacle till 
 two or three avenues branched off from it. They took 
 the one to the right, and proceeded ; but now their pro- 
 gress was difficult. They had been lighted hitherto on 
 their way by fissures in the rock, now they were in utter 
 darkness, and had to feel their way, stumbling often 
 over great pieces of stone and rock. Glancing frequently 
 back, Lance once thought he perceived the flash of a 
 lantern, but the next moment it disappeared. However, 
 by his orders, they flew on as swiftly as possible, and at 
 last issued into a faint daylight, which enabled them to 
 perceive an abyss into which a stream fell with a loud 
 roar — a mountain torrent on its subterraneous way. It
 
 I40 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 was crossed by the huge trunk of a pine which had been 
 planed flat on the upper side, and was the only bridge. 
 Harold uttered an exclamation of dismay. Lance under- 
 stood him, and lifted Algy in his arms. 
 
 " I will go first with the child," he said, calmly ; " my 
 head is firm enough. Then I will return for you and 
 Dick." 
 
 And he started on his dangerous way, walking steadily 
 along the shaking, narrow, and perilous bridge. But 
 when he had put Algy down on the other side, and turned 
 to dare the passage again to help his friends, he saw Dick 
 and Harold on it, hand-in-hand, and drew back. 
 
 " It is foolish," said Harold, as they came off the 
 bridge, " but ever since Lance picked me off the cliff I 
 have felt giddy when I look down a height. That rush- 
 ing water made me long to jump over. I think I should 
 have done so if Dick had not held my hand, and made 
 me shut my eyes." 
 
 "We are well over," said Dick. 
 
 " Now, boys, what do you think we had better do? I ^ 
 say, push that bridge off at this end. If we are pursued, 
 that will check the fellows ; and I feel sure if some of 
 the band find that worthy Signor Guiseppe, he will tell 
 him we are trapped in here." 
 
 " But how if we find no opening beyond, and have to 
 return ? " said Lance. " We could not then cross the 
 stream." 
 
 "We s/iall find an opening somewhere," said Dick. 
 " The fellow's directions have proved right so far, and he 
 relies on our sending him help, in case he is not found by 
 his comrades." 
 
 " Dick is right," said Harold ; " but how can we move 
 that huge pine ? "
 
 IN THE CAVES. 141 
 
 " We three boys" said Dick, with a superb air, " can do 
 it ; and yonder lies a lever," pointing to a huge branch 
 of a tree lying near. 
 
 "With a will then," said Lance. 
 
 And the three boys raised their impromptu lever, and 
 by immense efforts pushed the end of the pine trunk 
 nearer and nearer to the edge of the chasm, till, with a 
 splash, it fell in, and the two boys behind Lance pulled 
 him staggering back, or he would have gone with it. It 
 slipped at once from the other side, and the whole of it 
 was carried away by the torrent. 
 
 They then hastened onwards, and had turned a corner 
 which hid them from view, when loud cries proclaimed 
 that they were pursued, and that the pursuers were 
 stopped by finding no bridge, for the fall of the one end 
 had, as we have said, precipitated the whole trunk — not 
 fastened at either side — into the abyss. The boys hur- 
 ried on their way as fast as the darkness would permit. 
 Feeling the sides of the rock, they at last found an aper- 
 ture to the right, and turned down it. Once more they 
 perceived a gleam of light, and found that it came from 
 an opening at the top of some steps cut in the rock. 
 They hastened up them, and at last breathed the fresh 
 air and came out into the light of day. The path led 
 down the side of the mountain for some distance, till at 
 last they saw a charcoal-burner's hut, half buried in trees 
 and brushwood. Dick turned off into the wood, gave 
 his rifle to Harold — Lance had that of the wounded 
 brigand — and said, 
 
 " Now, if you will wait here, I will go to the hut. If 
 you are alarmed, or I don't come back in half an hour, 
 go on as fast as you can down the mountain; you arc 
 close to the village."
 
 142 TV£ THERE BOYS. 
 
 " But, Dick, that fellow betrayed us, and sent his com- 
 rades after us : having destroyed the bridge alone saved 
 us. Surely you are not bound to risk your freedom for 
 him ? " said Harold. 
 
 "I promised," replied Dick; "his bad faith wouldn't 
 justify mine. But I shall come back. I 've been at that 
 hut before. Good bye 1 " 
 
 And he went off, his hand on the pistol concealed in 
 his ragged jacket. 
 
 Dick approached the hut with great caution, hiding 
 behind the trees as he advanced, and thus he fortunately 
 perceived that at its door stood one of the brigands. 
 Dick did not know what to do, but after a moment's he- 
 sitation, he thought boldness was the best policy, and he 
 advanced fearlessly to the bandit 
 
 " You are one of the signori of the mountains," he said, 
 coolly ; " Guiseppe, your comrade, bids me tell you that 
 he lies wounded on the ledge by the magazine, and will 
 you send help to him ? " 
 
 The man looked earnestly at him. 
 
 " He has had help," he said, curtly. " So you got out 
 of that net of the devil, the gunpowder caves ! Well, 
 there 's no time to be lost. I hurried on here to tell you, 
 and to help you get off. I 'm Giovanni's friend, Beppo. 
 "Where are the others ? " 
 
 Dick saw at once that this was the confederate of 
 whom Giovanni had spoken to Lance : the boys had told 
 him all the circumstances of their escape, and Dick re- 
 solved to trust him ; but first he asked, " How did you 
 know I had been in the magazine caves ? " 
 
 " Guiseppe told us he had sent you there. You see, 
 we heard a rifle discharged, and went to see what it 
 meant, but we were a good way below the hill, and did
 
 IN THE CAVES. 143 
 
 not get to the place from whence the sound came for 
 nearly three-quarters of an hour or an hour. Then we 
 found Guiseppe wounded outside the magazine. He told 
 us that the prisoners had shot him, but that one of them, 
 a Sicilian peasant lad who was with them, had bound up 
 his wound ; that he had sent them into a trap by direct- 
 ing them to the intricate passages of the magazine caves, 
 persuading them to go that way for their own safety and 
 for his sake. 'For,' he said, 'the chicken-hearted lads 
 were sorry for me, I could see ; so I bade them go and 
 get aid for me at my father's hut, and thus, too, they 
 would be free themselves. But,' he added, * I knew they 
 would never get there. They will lose their way in the 
 caves, and are already safe.' 
 
 " The band resolved to go and seek the prisoners at 
 once, but I (who am, you know, the friend of the pri- 
 soners) thought it possible that Guiseppe had given them 
 faithful directions in order that speedy aid might come 
 to him ; so I offered to go to the charcoal-burner's while 
 they searched the caves. They laughed, and said I might 
 go, but that the boys could never get out of the caves 
 before they caught them. However, I came, and it was 
 lucky I did. And now let us get on, for we have no time 
 to spare. When they don't find you in the caves they 
 will come here." 
 
 "Let us go, then," said Dick, now confident in the 
 man. And they hurried off to the woods. 
 
 " How did you know I was one of the fugitives.^" asked 
 Dick, as they went on. 
 
 " Why, because you gave Giuseppe's message, and he 
 said a Sicilian boy was with them. But you are net 
 Sicilian, I think, by your talk?" 
 
 " No," said Dick, " I 'm English."
 
 144 ^^-^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 " I might have known that by your courage," said the 
 bandit. 
 
 They now perceived the party waiting under the trees, 
 and were also seen by them. Lance perceiving the bandit, 
 raised his rifle, but Dick shouted out, " Don't fire ! All 
 right — a friend ! " And then the boys advanced to meet 
 them. 
 
 Hurried explanations were given by Dick, and then 
 they turned off,'guided through its depths by Beppo, who 
 exclaimed several times at their good fortune in not 
 being pursued. " But," he added, "to be sure the band 
 would have to retrace their way, as they found the bridge 
 destroyed, since there was no other exit ; " and thus the 
 lads had gained valuable time — an hour, at least. 
 
 "We are getting safer every moment," he said, "for the 
 soldiers were here yesterday, and may be again to-day. 
 But we must get on." 
 
 He carried Algy, to enable the boys to go on faster, 
 and the hope of escape grew every moment brighter ; 
 but the loquacious Sicilian talked nearly as fast as h^ 
 walked, and the boys were able now to make out the 
 better part of what he said. 
 
 " I gave it up for a lost affair," he said, " when I heard 
 you two signori take back yoMX parole at supper. I knew 
 the captain would be on the alert then. But after all, it 
 proved the best thing, for Giovanni could get you out of 
 the prison cells easily, because they were only guarded 
 by one man, while coming out of the large cave many 
 eyes might have seen you, and I shouldn't have been at 
 hand to go to the charcoal-burner's to await you." 
 
 "And if Dick hadn't kept his word, even to a traitor, 
 we should not have had your guidance," said Harold, 
 smiling at Dick.
 
 IN THE CAVES. 145 
 
 " You Inglesi " (English), said the bandit, " are a 
 curious people. You keep your word, even when it is to 
 your own hindrance." 
 
 " But it doesn't seem to have been to our hindrance," 
 laughed Lance. " Long live trust in an Englishman's 
 word, say I ! " 
 
 "Ay," said Beppo ; "if we had not known we could 
 trust you we should not have dared risk betraying the 
 band." 
 
 " Won't it be dangerous for you to go into Messina ? " 
 asked Dick. 
 
 The bandit laughed. 
 
 " No," he said ; " we have plenty of friends there. I 
 shall go to the house of a friend of ours, and be all 
 right." 
 
 By this time they had reached the first village on the 
 ascent, where Beppo appeared to be well known ; here 
 he procured a bottle of milk, some bread, and a few 
 figs, while a farmer put to his cart for them — which he 
 sent with a driver of his own — quite readily, though 
 Beppo's profession must have been well known to him. 
 They had a good horse, and drove on rapidly. 
 
 " If Riccardo had been alive we should never have got 
 off," said Beppo to Dick ; " but, you see, they had no 
 leader, and most likely couldn't agree what to do." 
 
 It was past midnight when they reached the suburbs 
 of Messina, and Beppo said they had better wait till 
 morning at the inn of a friend of his, to which the boys 
 were compelled to assent, as he gave for reason that he 
 could not risk passing the fortifications at that hour. 
 
 They had a good supper — which they sadly needed — 
 and comfortable beds, all in one room ; outside the door 
 of which Paolo slept, for the fact was the bandit, in spite 
 
 19
 
 146 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 of his declared trust in the English, had no idea of giving 
 them up without the ransom. 
 
 When they awoke, however, they were delighted to see 
 Teresa seated by Algy's bedside. The boys gave her a 
 loud and cordial welcome. 
 
 " We are so glad you escaped ! " they cried. " Where 
 is Giovanni ? " 
 
 " He is here ; it is his father who keeps this inn," she 
 replied, "and Beppo is gone to bring your friends here to 
 fetch you. Now I will dress this blessed child, who 
 sadly wants his bath. The sweet little pet ! " kissing 
 him, "I would have died to save him. I don't think 
 much of shooting a man in the way of business some- 
 times; it is a disagreeable necessity ; but to kill a babe, 
 ah ! it would be like seething a kid in its mother's milk." 
 
 " Teresa," asked Harold, "had you given him an opiate ? 
 He slept like a top through everything." 
 
 "Of course I had," was the reply, "cheviiole? otherwise 
 he would have cried, and so have committed suicide 
 without knowing it." 
 
 The boys laughed. 
 
 " Yes," she went on, " I gave him some poppy-juice. 
 When you paint me as Proserpina, Signor 'Arold, mind 
 you put poppies in my hair." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore received the intelligence of his ward's 
 safety with great pleasure and relief, and was quite willing 
 to fulfil the boys' promises with regard to the ransom. 
 He and Mr. Lovelace soon made their appearance at the 
 inn, accompanied by Beppo, who had now assumed the 
 dress of a Sicilian peasant. Here the boys' story was told, 
 and the bandits and Teresa received their promised re- 
 ward. With it (they informed Mr. Dunmore) they intended 
 to cross into Calabria, and set up as bee-masters ; and as
 
 hV THE CAVES. 147 
 
 all three expressed a wish to lead an honest life hence- 
 forward, and Mr. Dunmore found, on after inquiry, that 
 these two men had not been guilty of any cruel or 
 atrocious action, he succeeded in procuring their pardon 
 from the Government. They had, in fact, rather joined 
 the banditti from love of excitement and the desire to 
 exercise power over the people than from the motives 
 which generally fill the bands, which are — desire to 
 escape from justice, laziness, or an innate spirit of evil. 
 
 The reception the boys met at the hotel was quite 
 enthusiastic. Much excitement had been caused by their 
 disappearance, and their story soon appearing in the 
 local papers, redoubled it. They became quite the heroes 
 of the hour, and everybody wanted to know the brave 
 English boys. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace was much gratified by Mr. Dunmore 
 presenting Dick with a splendid watch, in acknowledg- 
 ment of his bravery. " For," he said, " it was after all 
 Dick who saved them." 
 
 " No, no ! " laughed Dick, " it was * we three.' " . 
 
 And Mr. Dunmore was so amused at Dick's catchword 
 that he had three gold and onyx seals inscribed with the 
 words " We Three," and gave one of them to each of the 
 boys, who henceforth sealed their letters constantly with 
 them, whenever they possessed any sealing-wax ; and the 
 motto caused no little perplexity to the receivers who 
 hadn't the key to its meaning. The boys also each re- 
 ceived a present of an excellent rifle. But we are fore- 
 stalling our story a little.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 LANCE IS SHOT INSTEAD OF DICK. 
 
 fHE very day of their return to the hotel, Harold 
 communicated to Mr. Dunniore the fact that the 
 visitor to the caves of the mountain (by whose 
 order the captain was to kill the child, and thus rob the 
 brigands of their share of the ransom), was the visitor to 
 the Charing Cross Hotel, in whose bag he had found the 
 papers. Mr. Dunmore was very much startled ; he had 
 heard the story of the stranger's interference before from 
 Giovanni and Beppo, who related it as a just palliation 
 of their own treachery ; and though greatly puzzled by 
 the tale, he had considered it a mere exaggeration of the 
 woman's ; but Harold's recognition of the man made it 
 a very different affair. He looked extremely grave as he 
 listened. 
 
 " A secret society ! " he said. " Can it be possible ? 
 And yet it may be. Giles, if it is Giles, has lived much 
 on the Continent, and he and poor Sir Algernon were 
 friends of the extreme revolutionists. Algernon may 
 have in some way disobeyed them, but I cannot believe 
 that any society would in consequence order the sacri- 
 fice of an innocent child. It must have been Giles's own 
 wicked will." 
 
 14B
 
 LANCE IS SHOT INSTEAD OF DICK. 149 
 
 And he turned pale and walked hurriedly up and down 
 the room. 
 
 "See," he said to Harold, "to what a wild life brings 
 a man at last : to the worst of crimes. Giles Dunmore 
 was a handsome young fellow, with average abilities, who 
 by industry might have done almost anything. He had 
 a small fortune — unluckily, perhaps, as he was thus en- 
 abled to live without a profession — and he passed his 
 youth at the gambling resorts of the Continent, till his 
 money was wholly expended. Then he applied to me 
 for help (he had quarrelled with Algernon), and I al- 
 lowed him then, and have ever since allowed him, an 
 income sufficient for living on, but not for wasting." 
 
 "But, Mr. Dunmore," said Harold, "are you not your- 
 self in danger from him, if he is your heir ? " 
 
 " He is not the heir of my property ; that is personal 
 — it does not consist of entailed estates," said Mr. Dun- 
 more. " But Algernon's are entailed on the male heirs 
 of the title. After Algy I should come in, as I did for 
 a time after Algy's father, and probably then I might 
 have to fear the designs of my wicked kinsman ; but my 
 own money is, he knows, willed away from him, and my 
 death — while Algy lives — would only deprive him of his 
 income." 
 
 Harold breathed a sigh of relief. It had oppressed 
 him to think that his benefactor's life might be in daily 
 peril. 
 
 " Then," he said, " we have double reason to watch over 
 dear little Algy." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore extended his hand. 
 
 " You are a good lad," he said ; " we must indeed 
 watch over him, and certainly leave Sicily. Indeed, I 
 intend him and all of us to go on board the yacht at
 
 I50 JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 once. I have offered to take the Lovelaces on to Cal- 
 cutta in her. It is as well to put a good part of the 
 world between Algy and the secret society. We shall 
 all embark at once. My only annoyance is that Saunders 
 will not go on with us. He says he never agreed to go 
 to India, and that he finds even the heat of Sicily too 
 much for him. So he leaves at once. I don't care for an 
 Italian valet, therefore I mean to go on without one. The 
 steward can do all I require." 
 
 Harold was not sorry to learn that Saunders, whom 
 he had always disliked and distrusted, was to leave. He 
 suspected him of having had something to do with the 
 attack on Mr. Dunmore in the lane, and had always felt 
 a kind of antipathy to him. 
 
 That evening the whole party embarked in the Sea- 
 G21II, intending to sail the next day or the day after. 
 The Sea-Gull \w2i5 a splendid steamer, strongly built and 
 with a good crew, and they might anticipate a pleasant 
 voyage in her. 
 
 Lance had telegraphed to his father, who was on the 
 East India station, the moment he reached Messina, and 
 had also written him a long letter. He was in the act of 
 doing the same to the captain of his own ship, when the 
 Coinus herself steamed into the harbour. When Lance 
 went on the deck of the Sea-Gidl with his letter, he heard 
 the news, and ran at once to Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " I must report myself, sir," he said. 
 
 " Wait till to-morrow morning," said that gentleman, 
 smiling ; "we want to keep you as long as we can." 
 
 Lance nodded, and sent his letter instead of going 
 himself. 
 
 That afternoon they went on shore for the last time, 
 and at Beatrice's request they had a turn or tivo — after
 
 LANCE IS SHOT INSTEAD OF DICK. 151 
 
 dining at the hotel — on the Corso : the Lovelace ladies 
 and Mr. Lovelace in a carriage with little Algy, Mr. 
 Dunmore and the boys on hired horses. Lance was by 
 no means a good rider, and they had a great deal of fun 
 about his vagaries on horseback, when, just as the car- 
 riage had drawn up near the band to remain there a few 
 moments. Lance's horse darted forward by the side of 
 it and reared. At the same moment a shot struck 
 him in the leg, and his steed, terrified by the report, 
 darted off at full gallop to his stables, followed at fuL 
 speed by the Lovelaces' carriage and the riders. Hap- 
 pily Lance, though in great pain, kept his seat, holding 
 on to mane and reins " like grim death," as Dick said. 
 The horse also luckily took the road to his own stables, 
 and by the time the other members of the party arrived 
 there, the men of the stable-yard had lifted Lance from 
 the saddle, and borne him into the livery stable-keeper's 
 house. There he was placed on a bed, and a doctor was 
 sent for at once. He pronounced the wound not dan- 
 gerous; but the bone of the leg was broken, and had to 
 be set, as well as the ball extracted. Lance could not 
 be moved, but the people of the house were kindly and 
 sympathetic, and he was soon made comfortable, Mr. 
 Dunmore insisting on remaining with him. Before night 
 closed in, however, another nurse appeared — Teresa, who 
 had not yet left Messina. She was full of pity and 
 regret. 
 
 "It is Riccardo's doing," she declared: "he was not 
 killed, but dreadfully injured, by his fall over the pre- 
 cipice. He v/as caught by his clothes and held up by 
 some bushes, or he would have been killed ; and the 
 band found him. They are furious, and promised to 
 avenge him : you sec, they have lost their share of the
 
 152 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 ransoms through the escape of the Signori ! so Giovanni 
 and Beppo have hurried away, and I have only stayed 
 here to get a few things together before I follow them. 
 I heard of the captain's escape and the rage of the band 
 from a friend of Beppo's this morning. They have sworn 
 to kill the English boy who hurt the captain, and no 
 doubt that is why the signore has been shot. They have 
 mistaken him for Signor Dick." 
 
 "We ought never to have landed again," said Mr. 
 Dunmore ; "but who could have apprehended danger 
 on the crowded Corso } " 
 
 "Ah, signore, you English never understand our peo- 
 ple : an avenger would be safe everywhere here — even 
 on the Corso," declared Teresa. 
 
 She was ready to assume tne nurse's role at once, 
 though Mr. Dunmore had serious fears for her safety. 
 
 " No, no," she assured him, " she was safe enough ; she 
 had taken no vows to the band, and they were just — oh, 
 yes, they were just. This was a vendetta'^ 
 
 The next morning Mr. Dunmore went on board the 
 Comus, and related to her captain the misforture which 
 had befallen his young officer. 
 
 Captain Rivers was very sorry. 
 
 " I can't tell you," he said to his visitor, " how glad I 
 was to find that Lance Regan was still alive. He has 
 had a most marvellous escape, but how his father will 
 repay you for his ransom I can't tell — he has very little 
 more than his pay, I know." 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Dunmore, " Lance saved the life of a 
 very rich baby-baronet, my ward, and it is only right that 
 Sir Algernon should pay the ransoms of his two friends 
 and his own." 
 
 " That is very considerate of you," said Captain Rivers,
 
 LANCE IS SHOT INSTEAD OF DICK. 153 
 
 "and I am glad for poor Regan's sake. Lance himself 
 is a noble young fellow, and will distinguish himself if 
 we ever have a war. He bears every way an excellent 
 character, and his father may well be proud of him. I 
 will go at once and see him." 
 
 The boys, of course, were urgent in their pleadings to 
 be allowed to go to Lance, but Mr. Dunmore would not 
 permit them to visit the shore again. 
 
 As soon as possible the wounded boy was moved on 
 board the Sea-Giill, Mr. Dunmore never feeling easy 
 about his safety till he was on board ; and he was carried 
 to the boat and the ship in his cot. Once on board, 
 however, his comrades never suffered him to be dull ; 
 the only fear was, the doctor said, that they would talk 
 and laugh him into a fever. 
 
 Captain Rivers came often to see him, and Mr. Dun- 
 more and he grew great friends. 
 
 " It is a shame to keep you in harbour like this," Rivers 
 said one day to Mr. Dunmore. " Take the boy on with 
 you to Calcutta. His father is on the East India station, 
 and will take him on board his ship. We thought he was 
 drowned, you know, and his vacancy has been filled up. 
 I will have him invalided." 
 
 And thus it happened that the united three sailed to- 
 gether to meet new adventures in each oth   r's company. 
 
 20
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. 
 
 LOWLY, but surely, Lance grew better, and when 
 they reached Alexandria was able to come up 
 to sit on deck. He had seen Alexandria before, 
 but the others were charmed with their first view of 
 Egypt. Harold recalled memories of old historic days, 
 of Cleopatra, of Pompey slain on the shore ; and Dick 
 wondered if they couldn't scale Pompey's Pillar, as some 
 sailors had done once upon a time long ago. But Lance 
 evidently felt that it would be unfair of them to achieve 
 such a feat while he had but one leg jisable (as he said), 
 therefore they gave up the idea. 
 
 They passed Port Said, and were soon steaming down 
 the Suez Canal, which had little attraction for them, with 
 its dull sandbanks and inland lakes ; they were glad 
 when their vessel gained the waters of the Gulf of Suez, 
 and when soon after they passed through the Straits of 
 Jubal into the Red Sea. The passage down it was a 
 pleasant one in spite of the great heat. At Aden they 
 went on shore for a few hours, Beatrice being, however, 
 rather terrified at the mode of her landing, borne in a 
 chair through the surf by natives with black skins and 
 red hair (artificially coloured, she was told) ; but they 
 enjoyed seeing the many-tinted rocks, and Harold 
 
 154
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. 
 
 sketched the great lion-shaped rock of white coral which 
 lies before Aden. 
 
 They steamed away into the Indian Ocean, and the 
 ladies remained one evening rather late on deck, de- 
 lighted to watch the expanse of liquid fire which appeared 
 to surround their vessel, and which flew off in fountains 
 of light from her prow. Mr. Dunmore explained to the 
 boys that this appearance was caused by multitudes of 
 electrical insects — fireflies or glowworms of the sea — 
 which gave this strange light to the ocean as it lay in a 
 dead calm with its glittering surface around them. At 
 last they went below, and Beatrice challenged Harold to 
 a game of chess, while Mrs. Lovelace took up a book. 
 
 Beatrice played a very good game of chess, and she 
 was in the act of checking Harold's king when she paused 
 with the queen in her hand, saying, 
 
 "Something must be the matter. What a disturb- 
 ance!" 
 
 Indeed, feet trampled over their heads, there was shout- 
 ing and loud cries of " Hard a-port ! " and then, just as 
 Harold said " Shall I run up and see what it is .■' " a 
 violent shock threw chess-board, men, and Beatrice her- 
 self on the floor, while the steamer reeled over greatly on 
 her side. 
 
 "A collision!" cried Harold. "Here, put on your 
 wraps and run on deck as quickly as possible." 
 
 " And you 1 " panted Beatrice, rising and taking her 
 jacket and hat from his hands. 
 
 " I am going for Algy. Make haste on deck." And 
 he darted off to the cabin where the poor little boy and 
 his nurse, Benedetta, slept. 
 
 Happily the nurse was still up and sitting at work. 
 She was a brave woman and did not lose her presence of
 
 1S6 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 mind, but began instantly and hurriedly to dress the 
 child, while Harold hastened on deck. 
 
 A fearful scene presented itself to him. The rigging 
 was torn, the side-bulwarks dashed in, everything on 
 deck in disorder except the crew — they were calm and 
 obeying orders, some getting out the boats, others col- 
 lecting provisions and useful articles. Dick had gone 
 for the boys' and gentlemen's guns and ammunition. All 
 was order and discipline, though the gurgling of water 
 told how the fiery sea was entering by the breach made 
 near the bow-compartment. 
 
 "Yes," said Lance, in answer to Harold, "a huge 
 steamer ran into us, though we did our best to get out 
 of her way, the brute ! " 
 
 " But where is she ? " asked Harold. 
 
 " There, steaming away as fast as she can. But some 
 of our men climbed on her forecastle, and they will tell 
 the story of her cowardice and cruelty," indignantly. 
 
 These words were spoken while side by side the boys 
 lent their aid to the men getting out the boats. 
 
 The Sea-Gull was strongly built, and it was more than 
 twenty minutes before she showed signs of sinking. By 
 that time the boats were ready and provisioned, for the 
 men worked with a will and in great order. Then Mr. 
 Dunmore's voice was heard. 
 
 "The ladies first into the boats. Let me assist you, 
 Mrs. Lovelace." 
 
 And soon she, Beatrice, the nurse Benedetta, and the 
 child were seated in the barge, with Captain Elliot as 
 steersman, Mr. Lovelace, Dick, and as many seamen as 
 she would hold. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore, Lance, and Harold, with the stewardess, 
 a sailor's wife, and Mrs. Lovelace's maid, were in the
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. 157 
 
 lugger with a full crew ; the third and smaller boat, 
 commanded by the first officer, contained the remainder 
 of the crew. In each boat a part of the provisions — i.e., 
 a can of fresh water, a bag of biscuits, and some salt 
 pork — had been placed. 
 
 Before embarking Mr. Dunmore and his captain had 
 exchanged a few words as to where they should go. 
 
 " We are not very far off Socotra," said the captain, 
 " and may easily reach it with this calm sea and light 
 breeze. We had better try for it," 
 
 " You shall lead in the barge, and we will follow you," 
 said Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 And then they parted. 
 
 The boats shoved off, and were soon at a safe distance 
 from the fast settling ship, which was now leaning over 
 terribly on her side, yet was not on her beam-end. Her 
 stern was high out of the sea, the water being gathered 
 chiefly at the bow. 
 
 " Lay to, men," cried Mr. Dunmore, " and let us see 
 the last of the Sea-Gull^ 
 
 The men obeyed, and all gazed at the stricken vessel. 
 Her stern rose still higher; then leaning over, she settled 
 down rapidly: a few minutes, and, with a rush and gurgle 
 of the waters, the gallant steamer sank, and the sparkling 
 fiery sea closed over her. 
 
 " Gone ! " cried the boys, with an anguish they scarcely 
 understood. "Gone for ever! the dear old Sea-Giill!" 
 
 And tears stood in their eyes. One gets to love one's 
 ship so well, to take such pride in her, to feel for her 
 almost as for a friend, a sentient being ; and the Sea-Gidl 
 was a fine steamer, swift and beautiful, and had been 
 Harold's pride ever since he went on board her. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore sighed deeply.
 
 IS8 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Farewell, my bonny Sea-GullV he said, "and thank 
 Heaven that you were strong enough to give us time to 
 forsake you in your distress. Give way, men, and follow 
 Mr. Elliot's boat ; he will lead us to the nearest land." 
 
 It was by that time, — Mr. Lovelace said, after looking 
 at his watch, — ^just half an hour since the collision. 
 
 The boats moved on over the sparkling sea, bound, 
 Mr. Dunmore told Harold, for Socotra. 
 
 " Did that rascally skipper not even attempt to help 
 us } " asked Harold, who had been in the cabin, as we 
 know, when the collision happened. 
 
 " No," said Mr. Dunmore ; " but I don't think he quite 
 realized how completely he had smashed us. Still, he 
 ought to have waited to see." 
 
 " Our lights were all right," said Harold. 
 
 "Yes; it was entirely their fault," replied Mr. Dun- 
 more. 
 
 " Is Socotra inhabited ? " asked Harold after a pause. 
 
 "Yes, by Arabs chiefly, I believe. I recollect an 
 Indian mail steamer was lost on it or near it in eighteen 
 forty-three or four, so it must be in their direct route. 
 Elliot knows all about it." 
 
 They pulled steadily on for hours, the gentlemen re- 
 lieving the men occasionally at the oars, and giving each 
 in turn a rest ; but the dawn streaked the east with a 
 long thin line of silver, and still there was no sign of the 
 desired island. However, Mr. Elliot still led, compass 
 in hand, towards the west, and they followed his boat. 
 But they had an opportunity of beholding the superb 
 spectacle of sunrise over the sea before the bow oar in 
 Elliot's boat shouted, " Land ahead ! " 
 
 The rowers bent to their oars with fresh vigour, an 1 
 soon a rocky shore appeared to rise out of the sea.
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. 159 
 
 Another hour's pull, and they approached a high and 
 rocky coast, on which they perceived it would be difificult 
 to land, the surf breaking on it with some violence. 
 They had to coast round it a good way before a creek 
 appeared which they could enter. This, however, ran a 
 good way up into the land, and enabled them to bring 
 the boats to a place where they could get on shore by a 
 little wading ; Mr. Dunmore and Mr. Lovelace carrying 
 the ladies, the seamen the women and child. The men 
 rapidly unloaded the boats, which they contrived after- 
 wards to moor on to a sharp point of rock which ap- 
 peared to lend itself for a holdfast. 
 
 It was a strange, picturesque scene. The land sloped 
 abruptly to small sharp rocks and mud, above this it was 
 covered with stunted grass, and shut in by strangely- 
 tinted rocks, resembling those they had seen at Aden. 
 But at one spot grew a cluster of date-palms. The shore 
 was soon covered with the things removed from the boats, 
 which the men stripped of sails, masts, oars, awning, and 
 provisions, bringing everything to the land. Then they 
 contrived to get the boats in as near the shore and safe 
 from the small pointed rocks as possible, for Mr. Dun- 
 more feared that, if the tide rose and there should be a 
 surf here, as at Aden, they might get injured. Elliot, 
 however, said the creek would be free from surf. While 
 the men had been busy, the three lads had lent their best 
 aid to them, taking care especially of the arms and am- 
 munition. At length all paused, wearied by their toil in 
 the now burning sun. 
 
 Meantime one of the men had gathered a quantity of 
 dry aloe leaves and prickly pear stems, and made a fire ; 
 the stewardess filled a kettle and put on it, the nurse 
 helping both ; and very soon afterwards the ladies sitting
 
 i6o WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 on the grass were having a cup of tea — the women having 
 secured a canister of it — and eating biscuits with a good 
 appetite. 
 
 The boatswain piped all hands to breakfast then, and 
 soon the men were seen cast on the grass in groups, 
 while the steward, by Mr. Dunmore's desire, gave each 
 his ration of biscuit and water — for they might need to 
 be careful of the provisions. 
 
 The meal over, the men who had had it under the 
 shelter of the rocks, flung themselves on the turf, and 
 slept, exhausted by heat and toil. The ladies also slept, 
 and the child ; but Mr. Dunmore, Mr. Lovelace, and 
 Captain Elliot held counsel as to their position. 
 
 " The men must rest for a couple of hours," said Elliot, 
 " then, I think, sir, we had better explore the island, and 
 see if it is inhabited." 
 
 "You don't think then that we have reached Socotra.?" 
 asked Mr. Lovelace. 
 
 " No, I am sure we have not ; we should have found 
 inhabitants at once if we had. I suspect this island is 
 one of the small ones due south-west of Socotra, some of 
 which are very sparsely inhabited." 
 
 "I am not the least tired," said Mr. Dunmore, "and I 
 expect the boys are not ; why should we not explore 
 while the men sleep .'' " 
 
 Mr. Elliot shook his head. 
 
 " If the island is inhabited, sir," he said, "it will be by 
 predatory Arabs. A small party might be attacked and 
 murdered. There will be time enough to explore towards 
 evening ; meantime I advise you all to rest. I will keep 
 watch." 
 
 As all were tired, this advice was accepted ; but the 
 gentlemen and boys first managed, with the help of Mr.
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. i6i 
 
 Elliot and two of the men, to arrange the two big sails 
 over the oars and masts, which they planted in the sand, 
 so as to make a shelter for the ladies and child from the 
 sun, the rock lending its shadow also at the back of them, 
 and then, stretched as much under its shelter as possible, 
 the shipwrecked people enjoyed a few hours' sleep. 
 
 When they awoke they found that Mr. Dunmore had 
 relieved the captain's watch, and was sitting looking out 
 to sea on a small rock near the shore. 
 
 " Oh ! why did you not wake me to watch for you ? " 
 asked Harold, approaching him. 
 
 " There was no occasion ; but now that all are rested 
 we must arrange watches as on board ship, and all take 
 our turns — except, of course, Mr. Lovelace." 
 
 " We shall all be ready to do so," said Dick. 
 
 "But our first business now," said Mr. Dunmore, "is 
 to raise a signal in order to bring help from any passing 
 steamer, and to secure ourselves for the night." 
 
 They all agreed in the wisdom of this mode of action, 
 and with the skill and ingenuity of seamen two masts 
 were fastened together, and a flag, which lay in the barge, 
 fixed to the top of them. This pole was then planted 
 deeply in a hole in the ground, and secured by ropes. 
 From its summit waved the white flag and cross of St, 
 George ; and as the pole was planted on the highest 
 rocks they could find, it must, they thought, be visible 
 for some distance at sea. 
 
 While this important work was going on, the boys and 
 Mr. Lovelace had been exploring the semicircle of rocks 
 which shut in the part of the shore on which they had 
 landed, and had found two or three shallow caves, or 
 recesses rather, into which they took the boat cushions 
 and arranged them as pillows, A sail was hung in front 
 
 21
 
 1 62 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 of each, and they were set aside for the ladies and women. 
 The guns were then loaded, and the watches set. 
 
 The sun was now low down, and the exploring party 
 resolved to set out at once. It consisted of Mr. Dun- 
 more, Captain Elliot, Harold, Dick, and ten men. Lance, 
 unable yet to walk without a stick, was left to take care 
 of the women and child. 
 
 They discovered a narrow opening between the rocks, 
 and defiling through it, found themselves on a plain shut 
 in by hills. One of these they resolved to climb, and on 
 attaining its summit they looked down on a wide-spread- 
 ing plain, dotted over with fig and date-trees, and a few 
 other palms. A stream ran through it, and on its banks 
 an antelope was drinking. Beyond this plain high and 
 arid rocks once more shut in the view. 
 
 " Here are water and animals fit for food," said Mr. 
 Dunmore. "I expect there are, therefore, inhabitants 
 on the island," 
 
 " Yes," said Harold eagerly. " Look ! there is a herd 
 of antelopes under those trees. Dick, let us have a shot 
 at them ! " And he set off at full speed down the hill, 
 Dick following him. 
 
 "But," said Dick, as they reached the plain, "we must 
 act as Robinson Crusoe did with the goats : we must get 
 our game beneath us. Let us go up that hill which 
 Langs just over them, and fire down from it." 
 
 This plan was carefully pursued. They crept noise- 
 lessly along the turf, and as the wind was in their faces, 
 (gained the point they desired unperceived by the ante- 
 lopes. Both fired, and one of the animals fell, while the 
 irightened herd fled with the speed of the wind. The 
 boys scon ran down the hill, and dragged their game 
 with a glad shout to the spot in the valley which thei/ 
 friends had by then reached.
 
 THE LOSS OF THE SEA-GULL. 163 
 
 The seamen at once relieved them of their deer, and 
 then Mr. Dunmore proposed returning to the shore party 
 
 "We have evidently no very near neighbours," he 
 said, " far away I think I can distinguish a trace of 
 smoke on the air, but we need have no fear of any 
 immediate attack from unfriendly Arabs. We had 
 better go back now ; you boys have provided a good 
 supper for us all." 
 
 And, indeed, a shout of triumph from the hungry sea- 
 men greeted the appearance of the antelope. They had 
 soon surrounded it : the ship's butcher skinned and cut 
 it up, and portions were distributed after a few slices, 
 toasted by the fire on knives, had been taken to the ladies. 
 Dick had also brought them a few bananas from a ba- 
 nana-tree they had passed, so, with a little wine and bis- 
 cuit added to it, they had a really good supper. 
 
 The men kindled several other fires, and cooked their 
 own portions, so that nothing eatable remained of the 
 antelope by the time the whole party had supped, and 
 the men stretched the skin out afterwards on a rock to dry. 
 
 Before setting the night watches, Mr. Dunmore ad- 
 dressed his crew, standing, that he might be the better 
 heard, on one of the smaller rocks. He reminded them 
 how mercifully Divine Providence had preserved them 
 from sinking in the Sea-Gully and brought them safely 
 to land, and he said he thought they all ought to kneel 
 and acknowledge God's goodness to them before they 
 again slept. A low and not irreverent cheer answered 
 him, and when he called out in a clear voice, " Let us 
 pray," the whole party fell on their knees and joined in 
 devout thanksgiving. Then the watches were set, the 
 women retired into their shallow bed-places, and the 
 great shining moon rose again over the Indian Ocean.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 |AY dawned in all its loveliness the next morning, 
 and the shipwrecked people — who had rested 
 well for two or three hours the previous day — 
 rose with the light, and were soon busied in making 
 matters, as they termed it, shipshape. 
 
 Breakfast was served out to the men, and by that time 
 the ladies and child appeared — the women attendants 
 had been as early risers as the sailors. It was a busy 
 pleasant scene : the men moving about, the brilliant 
 dancing sea, the little child jumping and shouting, de- 
 lighted at being once more on shore. 
 
 When they had all breakfasted Mr. Dunmore proposed 
 another exploring expedition; Mr. Lovelace and Captain 
 Elliot to accompany him, the boys and the first officer to 
 remain with the ladies. 
 
 The boys would rather have gone also, but they knew 
 that it was no use to dispute or try and contravene any 
 of the orders given by Mr. Dunmore; they consoled 
 themselves, therefore, by begging two or three hair-pins 
 from Beatrice's plaits, and manufacturing with them and 
 their own string a hook and line for catching fish. The 
 shore bestowed a few worms in return for their careful 
 search, and they paddled out as far as they dared, and, 
 
 164
 
 SHIP WRECKED. 165 
 
 seating themselves on a rock, succeeded in catching 
 several fish unknown to them, but which one of the 
 seamen told them were called (in Bombay) pomfrets. 
 The sailors who were not in the watch followed their 
 example, except two, who, assisted by the stewardess, 
 were busy collecting dry wood beyond the rocks for the 
 fires, on which the fish were to be cooked. 
 
 And then Beatrice began to show that though her 
 knowledge of history was defective, she was clever at 
 other things. She encouraged the poor nurse, who was 
 much cast down, and did not know how to manage about 
 washing the boy, showing her a pool of salt water behind 
 the rocks in which he might be dipped (and which had 
 served for a washing-basin for herself and mother first), 
 and helped her afterwards to amuse little Algy. 
 
 Her care and attention to her mother were unceasing, 
 and sometimes she ran out to the boys with bare feet in 
 the sea pools, to see how they got on, and to admire the 
 success of their efforts. 
 
 By-and-bye the boatswain piped all hands to dinner. 
 It was noon, and the ladies were glad also to partake of 
 the fresh fish, which was served up to them on plantain- 
 leaves with great ceremony by the boys, who offered, in 
 place of knives and forks, their penknives and some two- 
 pronged wooden forks which one of the seamen had in- 
 geniously constructed. 
 
 A shot or two from the top of the hills after dinner 
 announced that the watchers there had sighted something 
 edible or inimical ; but their fears were soon set at rest 
 by the appearance of a seaman with birds which had 
 been the victims of that gun. 
 
 Thus the day passed. 
 
 No shadow of sail or steamer appeared upon the hori-
 
 i66 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 zon, promising deliverance ; and in the noontide calm 
 St. George's banner drooped lazily round their flagstaff. 
 
 It was nearly six o'clock before the exploring party 
 returned. They were very weary, and were glad to rest 
 on the sand and drink a glass of wine, which was, in 
 return for their toil, vouchsafed to the gentlemen by the 
 careful steward. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Dunmore, in reply to their eager ques- 
 tions, " the island is inhabited. We found on nearly the 
 opposite shore a settlement, — it can hardly be called a 
 village, it consists only of a few mud huts. They have 
 canoes, and evidently come from the mainland ; but as 
 none of us speak Arabic, we could not learn anything 
 definite about them ; but we purchased of them some 
 wooden bowls and platters and some coffee-berries: Dick 
 was right yesterday, he said he saw some coffee-trees, but 
 we thought he must have been mistaken. The people 
 were not uncivil, yet they did not look very cordially 
 disposed towards us." 
 
 The supply of bowls and platters was very welcome to 
 the shipwrecked people. Mr. Dunmore had also shot 
 and the men had brought in another antelope, and supper 
 was dressed and eaten with greater comfort. 
 
 The next day the boys set out at early dawn for the 
 brook, intending to have a good bath in it, sharks for- 
 bidding them from trying a swim in the sea ; but Mr. 
 Dunmore would not let them go alone : he sent some of 
 the men with them, for he could not be sure that there 
 were no other inhabitants in the island than those they 
 had seen the previous day. The men greatly liked the 
 idea of exploring the inland part of the island, and more- 
 over, hoped to get some more game. 
 
 And now Dick's knowledge of botany came into use.
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 167 
 
 He showed his companions the pepper-plants, the coffee- 
 shrubs, and several edible green vegetables, which they 
 eagerly gathered. 
 
 " This," he said, pausing before a great plot of golden 
 grain, " is a species of holcus — the dhurra, the principal 
 grain of Egypt after wheat. I have read of it and seen 
 pictures of it, but have never seen it growing before. It 
 will give us 'soft tack,' as you fellows call it," to the 
 seamen. 
 
 They laughed joyfully. 
 
 " Them 's useful books as you has read, Mr. Richard," 
 said one of the men ; " we will reap this — what do you 
 call it ? " pausing. 
 
 " Dhurra," said Dick. 
 
 " Yes, this durry, pretty soon." 
 
 After bathing, gathering some late figs and a few 
 green pods somewhat like beans, they wandered on in a 
 different direction to the one followed by the gentlemen 
 on the previous day, but they found nothing but arid 
 plains and rocks, neither trees nor human habitation, and 
 they came to the conclusion that only the eastern and 
 southern sides of the island could be inhabited. 
 
 " We will go south to-morrow," said Harold, " the north 
 is quite uninhabitable." 
 
 And to the south they went next day, and found again 
 a fertile valley, plots of grain and groves of palm-trees. 
 Here the boys shot some partridges, which were so tame 
 they ran out before them on the grass ; ortolans also 
 evidently abounded, and a few were also secured to carry 
 back with them. 
 
 Meantime the men on the shore had not been idle. 
 They had rigged up a small tent with the sails of the 
 boats, which they ingeniously fixed to the date-trees at
 
 1 68 
 
 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 the sides by tying the oars to the trunks of two which 
 stood near each other, and suspending the one lug-sail 
 left, and the sheet of the barge to them, and covering the 
 top with the jib and smaller sails. This was appropriated 
 to the females and child ; now the gentlemen could have 
 the caves, and the blue-jackets by infinite labour had 
 cleared out a larger cavity for themselves, as sleeping in 
 the night dews of the East is not esteemed healthy. 
 
 But watch was always regularly kept, as the party sent 
 south had fancied they perceived signs of inhabitants 
 there. And they were not mistaken ; the south coast 
 was inhabited by a colony of Arabs from the mainland.
 
 s^^^^.-'T^ 
 
 sV/- 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 SAMCO, 
 
 HE seamen went out the next day and returned 
 laden with the dhurra grain, which they had 
 reaped with their knives. They intended to 
 prepare it with their hands instead of winnowing, and 
 then to grind it with a heavy stone on the rocks, to 
 make cakes ; but they had been seen by the Arab in- 
 habitants, and about two hours afterwards, while they 
 were rubbing off the husks from the grain, the party were 
 startled by the appearance of four or five Arabs, wild, 
 ferocious-looking men, armed with spears. They were 
 followed by a negro — evidently a slave. 
 
 They made salaams to the gentlemen, and the leader 
 of the group addressed them in Arabic ; but on Mr, Dun- 
 more making signs that he did not understand them, the 
 Arab beckoned the negro to come forward and speak. 
 Grinning and showing all his teeth, the latter, with an air 
 of importance, said, 
 
 "Massa, me speaky Inglis. My massa big sheik — 
 this land his land — deer his deer — dhurra his dhurra. 
 If white man take it, white man must give backshish." 
 
 "Very clear indeed," said Mr. Dunmore, smiling good- 
 naturedly at the sable interpreter, "and we %vill give 
 'backshish,' tell the chief." 
 
 169 22
 
 I70 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 The words were repeated to the sheik, who gave a 
 grim smile, and again spoke to his interpreter. 
 
 " Sheik say, Englisman must give up all the money 
 him hab at once to the sheik." 
 
 "Tell him," said Mr. Dunmore, "that we will give him 
 what little money we have for what we have eaten ; but 
 that if he can help us to get to Socotra, we shall be able 
 to get much money there, and then he shall have more." 
 
 The sable interpreter repeated these words, and then 
 translated the reply. 
 
 " Sheik say give money at once, then him see." 
 
 Aware of the desperate character of the Arabs on the 
 islands, Mr. Dunmore coolly took out his purse and 
 emptied its contents. The sheik's eyes glistened at the 
 sight of the gold, 
 
 "Tell him," said Mr. Dunmore, "that I will give him 
 much more if he will let one of his men pilot us to 
 Socotra — if they can." 
 
 " Oh, yes, massa caul' said the negro ; " but you take 
 cares." 
 
 And he repeated Mr. Dunmore's words to the sheik. 
 
 " Sheik want men's clothes and guns, then he take 
 men on to Socotra," said the negro, when the answer 
 had come. 
 
 " Tell him," said Mr. Dunmore, " that we will give him 
 no more till we are safe at Socotra. We have arms and 
 will fight." 
 
 The negro with many gesticulations of alarm repeated 
 these words to the sheik. He frowned and consulted his 
 followers, the negro intervening occasionally with eager 
 words. At length he said to Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " Sheik say will send men to guide boats to Socotra ; 
 but massa take care and watch to-night."
 
 SAMBO. 171 
 
 "Thanks," said Mr. Dunmore, gravely. "Tell the 
 chief that if he will let his people pilot us to Socotra, 
 we will send back gold and our largest boat for him- 
 self." 
 
 The sheik's face visibly brightened at these words : he 
 had only canoes, and the big boat yonder was offered ! 
 The negro said something more, and the sheik smiled 
 and nodded. The negro spoke again to Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " Massa," he said, " I tell sheik Englishman always 
 keep his word. He say, show him boat." 
 
 Then the Arabs were led to where the boats had been 
 drawn up. 
 
 Meantime, the men, summoned and drilled, so to speak, 
 by Lance, had gathered into a strong body, with clubs, 
 oars, and knives open ; and Lance, Harold, Dick, Captain 
 Elliot, and Mr. Lovelace had taken their rifles. The 
 sheik was charmed with the boat, though he concealed 
 his delight with the cunning of a savage ; and when he 
 turned back and beheld the assembled seamen ready for 
 fight, he decided, and spoke to the negro again. 
 
 " Sheik say," interpreted the latter, " that is satisfied 
 with boat and massa's promise, and will lend men to go 
 with them. I can be pilot," added the negro proudly; 
 " but massa keep good watch to-night." 
 
 He ran these words on to those he translated, pointing 
 to the sheik as if threatening them with his power. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore understood, nodded, and then desired 
 him to tell the sheik that they would be good friends 
 to him hereafter, and send him gifts. 
 
 The sheik then salaamed, and the party retired. 
 
 "A friendly negro," said Mr. Dunmore. "Wc must act 
 on his hint. I suspect if all the tribe were at home we 
 should have had a hard time with them. These arc in-
 
 172 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 ferior tribes, lacking the hospitality and good faith of the 
 better part of their nation." 
 
 As may be imagined, the crew and their officers took 
 care to watch that night; and it was well they did so; as 
 Dick, from a pinnacle of the rock which he had attained, 
 perceived quite a body of Arabs moving about at no 
 great distance. But the men purposely kept up a loud 
 noise, shouting and singing by order of Captain Elliot ; 
 and as they were numerous, and all armed in one way 
 or the other — with oars, cudgels cut from the fig-trees, 
 or with rifles — the courage of the treacherous Arabs failed, 
 and no attack was made. 
 
 At dawn the men were busy at the boats — shipping 
 masts, getting the sails set, and putting their remaining 
 provisions on board. 
 
 The delight of the women at the thought of getting 
 better shelter, and their ordinary comforts again, was 
 extreme ; but Beatrice gathered a few leaves of the 
 palm-trees to keep in memory of their shipwreck. 
 
 By sunrise three Arabs and the negro issued from the 
 passage through the rocks, ready to fulfil the terms of 
 their compact. 
 
 They were soon all ready to embark. The negro was 
 put in Mr. Dunmore's boat, the Arabs were divided 
 between the barge and the smaller boat. 
 
 They had scarcely pushed off before the negro burst 
 forth into a 
 
 " Golly ! we very lucky, sar. Arabs great thieves. If 
 you been few poor sailors they strip you and leave you 
 on shore, or else take you to mainland and sell you for 
 slave. Ah ! very lucky sheik nebber see the missee." 
 
 Beatrice's mother had kept her in the tent while the 
 Arabs were on the beach.
 
 SAMBO. ij- 
 
 " He never mean to let massa go at first ; but I per- 
 suade him. I say, ' Englishman alway keep word — he 
 will send money. If the sheik kill Englishman, then big 
 ship come and kill ebberybody.' Then he say, ' Let them 
 go ; but if you don't bring back much backshish, then I 
 skin you alive.' " 
 
 Mr. Dunmore thanked the negro, and gave him the 
 single gold coin he had left, and the black was very 
 thankful ; but by-and-bye said, 
 
 "We stand out to sea, sar, more; many rocks here. 
 Ships pass there ; better stand out to sea." 
 
 They complied with his desire, and had soon cause to 
 rejoice that they had done so, for very soon afterwards 
 they beheld steaming towards them a noble vessel, with 
 the Union Jack blowing out at her masthead, and Lance 
 cried out, 
 
 " The Indian Mall steamer ! The Indian Mail ! " 
 
 In a moment the people in the boats made all sorts of 
 efforts to attract her attention. They shouted " Steamer 
 ahoy!" they waved their handkerchiefs; they steered up 
 towards her ; and with thankful hearts at last perceived 
 that they were seen. She slackened way, and a boat was 
 put off to them, which met them in their approach to 
 her. 
 
 " The crew and passengers of the lost yacht ! " cried 
 the first officer of the mail steamer, who was in the 
 boat. " Come on at once. Happily we are not very full 
 of passengers this trip. Let us make haste to get the 
 ladies on board." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that the shipwrecked 
 people received a cordial and courteous welcome from 
 the captain of the Kaiser-i-Hind. 
 
 The Arabs were meantime inclined to murmur, fearing
 
 174 f^'^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 that their promised reward would be lost; but Mr. Love- 
 lace, before they left the boats, paid them the sum pro- 
 mised, and bestowed the largest of the three boats upon 
 them for their return. They still, however, lay alongside 
 the steamer, uttering shrill cries and demands, till the 
 seamen on board the ship grew impatient, cast off their 
 painter, and the steamer moved on. 
 
 Then the boys perceived the meaning of the Arabs' 
 cries : the negro was not in the boat ! He must have 
 gone below, or fallen overboard ! They communicated 
 their discovery to one of the seamen, who replied, 
 
 "Never mind; the poor fellow is hiding maybe on 
 board. He knows well that whoever is under the British 
 flag is free. No slave can tread our quarter-deck ! " 
 
 The boys said no more ; and the seaman's explanation 
 proved correct, as in about a couple of hours' time Sambo 
 appeared on deck, grinning from ear to ear, and saying 
 to the boys, 
 
 " I se gent'lman — Sambo free now — Sambo nebber go 
 back to Arabs any more!" 
 
 The captain, when he first heard of this stowaway, was 
 inclined to be vexed — a good deal had been recently 
 said about the reception of runaway slaves on board 
 English ships, and he thought he might be called to 
 account for it by the Peninsular and Oriental Company ; 
 but Mr. Dunmore assured him that no possible blame 
 could be attached to him. 
 
 "In fact," he added, "the nation would defend you, 
 even if you had knowingly received the poor fellow, for 
 public feeling will not bear any tampering with human 
 freedom when known." 
 
 In the twilight the negro came as far aft as he dared, 
 to speak again to the boys.
 
 SAHIB 0. 175 
 
 "I thought," he said, " massa let me stay, 'cos I warned 
 him of thievy Arab, and 'cos Enghshman like to free 
 slave." 
 
 " Yes, and we were much obliged to you, Sambo," said 
 Harold. " But how came you to be a slave } I thought 
 there were not any now." 
 
 " Ah, massa not know ! Plenty slaves in Africa no- 
 body knows 'bout. Arabs steal me from my home, sell 
 me, send me in ship. I sail away from home, but English 
 ship take slave-dhow. Then I stay in English ship very 
 long time, and learn English talkee bymby ; try to get 
 back to my people, but Arabs catchee me once more, 
 keep me then, but here I are now ! " and he extended his 
 hands with an imposing air. The boys laughed heartily. 
 They were very glad of Sambo's escape, and Dick went 
 to his uncle and asked good-natured Mr. Lovelace to take 
 the negro into his service. The merchant assented, though 
 he really did not see of what use the black could be to 
 him. That kind action, however, was destined to bring 
 him a great reward. 
 
 Sambo was engaged as what was called in old times 
 "body servant;" valet would really be too grand a name 
 for him ; and the whole family soon found him useful. 
 He never failed to see to all their wants, and was inge- 
 nious in devising little comforts and luxuries, Mrs. Love- 
 lace, who had been much exhausted by "roughing it" 
 on the Arab island for three or four days, never found 
 Sambo weary of fanning her, or without a delicious 
 cool drink when she needed one. Mr. Lovelace procured 
 for him from the purser a white jacket and trousers, and 
 Sambo was now in his glory, especially as Mr. Dick gave 
 him his bright blue tie, which was a little stained with 
 sea-water, but still fine.
 
 176 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 The voyage across the Indian Ocean was delightful. 
 The steamer touched first at Bombay, so after a rapid 
 passage they entered the most beautiful harbour in the 
 world, except that of Naples. Here the shipwrecked 
 passengers went on shore. The steamer would proceed 
 at once to Calcutta, but the rescued people were all so 
 destitute of clothing that they were compelled to remain 
 at Bombay to replenish their wardrobes; also Mr. Dun- 
 more did not wish to pay the passage of his crew there 
 and back ; he preferred sending them to England from 
 Bombay. He had a long discussion with Captain Elliot, 
 and it ended in his commissioning that officer to purchase 
 another yacht for him in England, and to re-ship the 
 same crew in it, who, meantime, were to be sent home ; 
 to have leave on shore in England with half-pay, till 
 the new yacht should be ready. For," said the gene- 
 rous yacht owner, "they must not suffer from our ship- 
 wreck. I have promised to take Mr. Lance Regan to 
 Calcutta to meet his father. You must, therefore, Mr. 
 Elliot, come there for us when you have secured a vessel." 
 
 When Mr. Lovelace heard of this arrangement, he 
 invited Mr. Dunmore to go on with them to Assam. 
 
 "You are not tied to time," he said : "and you will 
 have to wait for your yacht at Calcutta. Now, I think 
 you would find our Assam climate delightfully salubrious 
 for Algy, and we can give you some good tiger-shooting 
 in the European and Assam fashion, if you like. It will 
 make us so happy if you will go." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore laughed. " I shall be only too glad," he 
 said ; " for, to tell you the truth, I was rather puzzled 
 about staying in Calcutta with Algy, and should have to 
 go the hills certainly, on his account, if I did. Therefore 
 I accept your invitation with gratitude."
 
 SAMBO. 177 
 
 They did all their business in Bombay, getting every- 
 thing they actually required, though Beatrice mourned 
 for her Paris dresses. As soon as the news of their ad- 
 ventures reached the Governor's ears he sent an aide-de- 
 camp to Mr. Dunmore (who was an old personal friend 
 of his own) to invite the whole party to stay at Parell, 
 the Government House. The invitation was accepted, 
 and they were soon installed in that delightful dwelling. 
 
 Here, for the first time, Dick, Harold, and Lance saw 
 what Anglo-Indian life is in its best form. The magni- 
 ficent rooms ; the state and form of living ; the Italian 
 garden, with its fountain between the two singing trees 
 of the "Arabian Nights," the great lily-bell creeper fes- 
 tooned over it, receiving the spray of the fountain, and 
 sending it back in drops of glittering crystal, charmed 
 them. They were waited on by Parsees too, the ancient 
 Guebres or Fire -Worshippers, which delighted Harold, 
 who had read and dearly loved " Lalla Rookh," 
 
 There was a tame cheetah in the grounds; its den was 
 railed off from the garden ; and this was an object of 
 great interest to the boys. They and Beatrice delighted 
 to feed it and pet it. One day, however, Beatrice was 
 stroking it with her gloved hand, when it suddenly licked 
 it, and stripped the glove clean off. On hearing this, 
 orders v.^ere issued by the Governor that the leopard 
 should not be touched by any one again, as, he assured 
 Beatrice, if the animal had licked her ungloved hand, he 
 would, with his rough tongue, have licked o^i the skin as 
 he had the kid, and finding that the hand was good to 
 eat, would probably have bitten it off. 
 
 Before they left Bombay they had many early morning 
 rides through the cocoanut groves, and drove to Malabar 
 Point, where the Gucbre or Parsce death-towers are. On
 
 178 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 a latticework cover at the top of these towers the bodies 
 of the Parsees are laid to be devoured by vultures, which 
 of course abound round them. Disgusting birds they are ; 
 they made even the boys shudder as they swooped down 
 round their carriage. 
 
 They visited also the caves of Salsette and Elephanta, 
 with which they were greatly delighted, and it was with 
 regret that they said farewell at last to their hospitable 
 host and his family of lovely daughters, to embark in the 
 steamer for Calcutta. 
 
 Lance, however, had the pleasant hope of meeting his 
 father there. 
 
 " But I hope the Conqueror won't be at Calcutta," said 
 Harold, " then we three shall go up to Assam and have 
 a tiger-hunt together, and perhaps shoot a panther or 
 two. It won't be half the fun if you are not with us, 
 Lance." 
 
 "Oh, he will be," said Dick, "I have read it in the 
 stars. I say, Harold, what a size the planets are here ! 
 They look like billiard-balls." 
 
 On their arrival at Calcutta Dick proved to be so good 
 a prophet that he insisted on being called the " Astro- 
 loger," for Captain Regan's ship was not there, and was 
 not expected for a month at least, they learned. 
 
 Then Mr. Lovelace declared that Lance should not be 
 put on board another ship till he could join his father; 
 he should go on to Assam with them, and he (Mr. Love- 
 lace) would leave instructions with his agent to telegraph 
 to them, when the Conqueror should arrive, and then 
 Lance could hurry off to join her. 
 
 And thus it chanced that the three boys were asso- 
 ciated again in fresh adventures in the far East.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 
 
 HE travellers did not make a long stay at Cal- 
 cutta, remaining there only a sufficient time 
 to supplement any wants left unsupplied at 
 Bombay, and for Mr. Lovelace to see his agents and 
 correspondents. Then embarking in a steamer once 
 more, they voyaged up the mighty River Brahmaputra, 
 which runs through the heart of Assam and is its finest 
 highway. 
 
 The scenery on either side of it was new to the boys, 
 and very beautiful. The broad margins of tall grasses 
 and high weeds on each side were skirted by cultivated 
 lands (very prosperous-looking), paddy or rice-fields, 
 villages embosomed in fruit-trees, and wide tracts of 
 cultivation, the level lands gradually ending in thick 
 forests, above which rose the sun-tinted hills. 
 
 There were numerous small islands on the river, and 
 one very large one, on which the boys beheld for the first 
 time, to their infinite delight, a wild elephant standing 
 by the river's brink. Lance called to Harold and Dick 
 to look at it. 
 
 " It just completes the picture," said Harold. 
 
 "Might we have a shot at it?" asked Dick. 
 
 " I don't think we may," said Lance ; " I fancy that I 
 
 179
 
 i8o WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 have heard there are game laws in India with respect 
 to elephants — are there not, sir ? " to Mr. Lovelace, who 
 had approached them, 
 
 " Yes, The elephant would have been exterminated 
 but for the law which forbids any one to kill or capture 
 one unless possessed of a licence to do so from Govern- 
 ment, To kill an elephant without it is to subject oneself 
 to a fine of five hundred rupees (fifty pounds) for the 
 first offence, and a similar fine and six months' imprison- 
 ment for the second." 
 
 " Do you think then that by-and-bye there will be no 
 elephants ? " asked Beatrice. 
 
 "Oh, no, dear. In the great unsurveyed forests be- 
 tween Assam and Burmah elephants are so abundant 
 that it seems scarcely possible even to thin their num- 
 bers, A great many are caught yearly and tamed for 
 export ; but I have heard that elephant selling is a very 
 precarious business, as the animals frequently die in the 
 process of taming. They are shot also in the forests for 
 their tusks of ivory ; but one must have a licence from 
 Government to shoot or catch them unless they endanger 
 life or property." 
 
 " Oh, how I should like to have a pet elephant ! " cried 
 Beatrice. 
 
 " It would be an expensive pet," laughed her father ; 
 " the food of an elephant and its mahout would cost a 
 large sum yearly. You must be content to pet a gazelle, 
 Bee, and to ride on a nice little Arab." 
 
 " Oh, papa," exclaimed the girl, " shall I have a horse 
 of my own ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I hope you will like riding on the hills. We 
 must give the boys mounts also — Dick rides pretty well, 
 I know," said Mr. Lovelace.
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. i8l 
 
 " But Lance ! " cried Beatrice. " Oh, I like to see 
 him on horseback ! But sailors never can ride, you 
 know." 
 
 " Well," said Lance, flushing a little, " I suppose I can 
 improve as well as other people } " 
 
 "We will teach you," cried the two other boys together. 
 " You '11 ride it well enough in time." 
 
 The journey proved a very pleasant one, and they were 
 almost sorry when it was over and they had reached their 
 destination, which they did just after sunset one evening, 
 with time only to dine and go to bed. 
 
 Little Algy had borne the voyage and journey very 
 well ; he was growing a sweet little fellow, full of fun 
 and mischief, and was the pet of the whole party. His 
 health had improved daily under the kind motherly 
 superintendence of Mrs. Lovelace, and he loved her and 
 Beatrice as well, but not better than, " brother Harold," 
 as he called him. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace's plantation was on the slope of one of 
 tlie southern hills, on the other side of which dwelt one 
 of the Naga tribes. The land had been originally a 
 Government grant made on very profitable terms ; Mr, 
 Lovelace had purchased it from its first owner, and 
 also a good deal of additional ground ; and his posses- 
 sions now consisted of a large extent of tea gardens, 
 running down the hill-side and stretching into the valley 
 beneath. There the lovely tea-shrub grew abundantly, 
 and presented a pretty picture of snowy blossoms and 
 green leaves, lighted up by the brilliant sunlight. 
 
 The gardens were watered by little rivulets, or canals, 
 from the affluent which descends the hills at that spot 
 to join and swell the waters of the mighty Brahmaputra. 
 
 The house was built on nearly the highest part of the
 
 1 82 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 property, and had orange groves on one side and a grove 
 of bananas on the other. The property was on each side 
 bounded by forests. On the right the woods had been 
 surveyed, and had roads through them ; but on the left 
 ■stretched forests never yet surveyed : the haunt of the 
 tiger, the rhinoceros, and the elephant. 
 
 The Lovelaces did not live in a bungalow. Aware 
 that his estate — on account of its distance from the other 
 plantations and from a military station — was exposed in 
 an unusual manner to danger from his wild neighbours, 
 Mr. Lovelace had built a substantial stone house, two 
 storeys high. With some idea of imitating the Alhambra, 
 he had erected it round the four sides of a very large open 
 court, in the centre of which he placed a stone tank with 
 a fountain in its midst, the water of which was supplied 
 from a deep and excellent well — a treasure of no small 
 account — which he had dug in the same court, and 
 covered with an ornamental pinnacle. On the edges of 
 this tank were placed pots of the sweetest and brightest 
 flowers, and on the terrace round it were seats and 
 lounges under a verandah. 
 
 The avenue up to the house was shaded by very large 
 golden-flowered mimosas, and the entrance was at the 
 south side of the square. A pretty hall, with leopard and 
 tiger-skins lying about on the floor, led right through the 
 dwelling to the centre court ; the flowers and fountain 
 were seen through the open front door. 
 
 On each side of the hall was a room : one a dining- 
 room, the other a drawing-room. From the latter one 
 went into a pretty morning-room for the ladies, on the 
 right or eastern side of the square ; from the dining- 
 room one entered Mr. Lovelace's office. 
 
 The north side of the square was the storehouse for
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 183 
 
 the tea, and had in it the apartments of Mr. Lovelace's 
 clerks, who were Eurasians, clever young men, experi- 
 enced in the business. Mr. Brown, the manager, also an 
 Eurasian, had a bungalow of his own in the tea gardens, 
 from which he could overlook the little Coolie settlement. 
 
 This northern side of the house, which was only one 
 room thick or wide, had a glass gallery facing the court, 
 full of flowers — a sort of greenhouse or conservatory. 
 Behind it was the godown, as it is called ; i.e., the store- 
 houses, and the huts for the servants' families. On the 
 first floor were the bed-rooms and bath-rooms. The 
 furniture of the house was simple, as all Indian furniture 
 is in a general way ; though there were Persian rugs of 
 great beauty laid on the matting which covered the floors, 
 and small marble tables and every kind of easy chair 
 and couch in the drawing-room. Mr. Lovelace possessed 
 also valuable plate, china, and glass. Mr. Dunmore, 
 therefore, found himself in a house of far greater luxury 
 than he had anticipated. 
 
 A delightful nursery, and an ayah whom they had 
 brought from Calcutta to attend on her and her charge, 
 threw Algy's nurse into raptures. The two elder boys 
 had a large room, double-bedded, which opened into 
 Dick's smaller chamber, Avith an adjoining bath of great 
 size compared to the English bath. They were intensely 
 interested in the new features of their surroundings. 
 
 The beds were small iron ones, the posts standing in 
 stone cups full of water, which served to arrest the journeys 
 of objectionable insects upwards. Looped up at the head 
 by day, and tightly tucked in at night, were lace curtains 
 to keep the mosquitoes from biting the sleepers, — the 
 mosquito nets as they are called. 
 
 The boys were warned of the necessity of slipping
 
 1 84 TVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 under them quickly, and, in fact, they had already made 
 the acquaintance of mosquitoes in Malta and Sicily, and 
 had a natural horror of them. Nevertheless, the first 
 night of their residence under Mr. Lovelace's roof Dick 
 allowed one to get inside his curtains, and the boys in 
 the next room were roused from their first sleep by their 
 comrade's groans and lamentations. 
 
 " What 's the matter ? " asked Lance, sitting up in bed. 
 
 " Oh," cried Dick, " I am nearly mad. There is a brute 
 of a mosquito got into my bed, and he won't let me have 
 a moment's peace. I declare I shouldn't mind the bites 
 if he didn't keep up such trumpeting round my head." 
 
 " We '11 help you," replied Harold, jumping out, but 
 securely tucking in his own curtains after he had crept 
 from under them. 
 
 There is always a night-light in an Indian chamber : 
 a tumbler, with a sufficient supply of oil floating on water, 
 holds the wick ; unless the more modern Anglo-Indian 
 uses English night-lights, which are more expensive. 
 
 The boys were favoured with the old-fashioned tumbler. 
 By its light, however, they proceeded to Dick's room, and 
 found him out of bed also ; then all three provided them- 
 selves with towels, and whisked and whisked violently in- 
 side the mosquito curtains, in which performance Harold 
 received a violent flick in the eye from Lance, which for 
 a moment checked their laughter at the mosquito-hunt. 
 At length Dick was freed from his enemy, and the boys, 
 with many mocking recommendations to him "to be a 
 good boy and go to sleep," returned to their own room 
 to find that they had the same work to perform for Lance. 
 
 As they were dressing the next morning, a shout came 
 from Dick's room. 
 
 " HiLIo 1 what 's the matter now ? " asked Lance.
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 185 
 
 " Oh ! I say," cried Dick, " come and look here, I 
 was going to brush my hair, and my brush is full of ants." 
 
 And the boys running in, saw that the dressing-table 
 and brushes were covered with those insects. 
 
 " I saw a whole posse of them drawing a cockroach 
 just now when I was in the bath," said Harold. '* They 
 had turned the poor beetle upon his back, and a number 
 dragged him along for a very little while ; then they were 
 relieved by a relay from the multitude which followed 
 them. They seem to swarm." 
 
 After watching the ants for a few minutes, and lending 
 Dick a brush, the boys hastened their toilettes, anxious 
 to go out in the lovely garden that they could see from 
 their windows, from which came the heavy perfumes of 
 the tropical flowers. 
 
 It was still very early. The sun was only just gilding 
 the tops of the eastern hills, and the air was sweet and 
 fresh. The caw of the crows had roused them at day- 
 break, and soon after they had heard the men filling their 
 baths, and had jumped up. Now dressed, they ran down- 
 stairs and passed through the pretty centre hall, which 
 ran right through the house, into the avenue, and from 
 thence by a path shaded by oleanders (which grew on the 
 banks of a tiny rivulet) to the garden they had seen from 
 their window. 
 
 Dick was soon engrossed by the lovely flowers and 
 trees, and his knowledge of and taste for botany enabled 
 him to tell his companions a great deal about the plants, 
 which he recognized though he saw them for the first time. 
 A child's merry laugh told them that Algy was in the 
 garden, and he burst suddenly from behind a hedge of 
 jessamine, shouting, "Halald ! Halald ! Oh ! look at ze 
 pretty butterflies." 
 
 '4
 
 1 86 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 Harold caught him up and ran away with him ; Algy 
 laughing, and grasping the boy's hair in his small hands, 
 while the nurse followed smiling. 
 
 The two other boys gave chase to Harold and Algy, 
 and they were in rather a state of over-heat, when a ser- 
 vant in a white garment, girt round his waist with a 
 crimson cinnbcrhiind, or scarf, appeared, and summoned 
 them to breakfast. The boys gladly obeyed the sum- 
 mons, resigning Algy to his nurse, to whom the servant 
 said, however, 
 
 " Must not let baba go amongst tufts of rose-trees — 
 very often cobra in them. Keep on grass lawn." 
 
 And then he turned and followed the boys into the 
 
 house. 
 
 The Lovelaces and Mr. Dunmore were already seated 
 at a table laden with good things. An Indian breakfast 
 is even a more abundant morning meal than a Scotch 
 one, and Harold could not help smiling to himself as 
 he thought what Sir Jasper would say to it— he whose 
 morning meal consisted of a few scraps of bacon, a 
 little stale bread and butter, and weak tea. Here there 
 was fish freshly caught from the river (which was at no 
 great distance), spatchcocked chicken, delicious curry, 
 roast quails, and delicate bread-cakes, rolls, toast, etc., 
 with tea, coffee, and chocolate, guava jelly, oranges, and 
 bananas. The boys were quite ready to do justice to 
 the repast. 
 
 Beatrice exclaimed in rapture at the delicious guava 
 jelly, and wanted to know if the fresh guava was also 
 nice to eat. 
 
 " Everything here is charming ! " she said. " The aif 
 IS so sweet, the flowers so beautiful. Look at my bouquet 
 of stephanotis ! "
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 187 
 
 "Yes," said her father ; "there is much beauty all about 
 us, Bee. By-and-bye, at sundown, you shall walk through 
 the orange groves, and also visit the tea gardens." 
 
 " That will be pleasant ! " she replied. 
 
 "It's an awfully jolly place," said Dick. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace laughed. 
 
 " I must give you boys one warning," he said. " Never 
 venture far from the plantation in two directions : one is 
 over the crest of the hills ; the other into the forests which 
 bound my property on the east. On the other side of 
 the hill are wild tribes of Nagas, by no means trust- 
 worthy, though supposed to be on friendly terms with 
 us ; in the forests are tigers, panthers, bears, rhinoceroses, 
 elephants, and pythons." 
 
 " Why, you beat the Zoo into fits, Uncle Tom ! " said 
 Dick. " But we should dearly like to hunt a tiger or an 
 elephant ; shouldn't we, boys?" 
 
 A dual assent was, of course, given. 
 
 " Well, some day we may take you to hunt one ; but re- 
 member, you are never to venture into the forests alone." 
 
 About five o'clock that afternoon the whole party were 
 escorted through the tea gardens by ]\Ir. Lovelace's 
 manager, Mr. Brown ; the proprietor himself accompany- 
 ing them. He had much to see in the plantation after 
 his long absence. 
 
 He was much gratified by the improvements made by 
 Mr. Brown, while his guests were delighted by the beauty 
 and peculiar fragrance of the gardens. The lovely tea- 
 shrubs, with their pure white blossoms, won Beatrice's 
 admiration. 
 
 " The blossoms are just like wild roses," she said, "only 
 they are white, and the leaves are like myrtlc-lcaves." 
 
 The trees rose from three to six feet in height, but the
 
 i88 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 lower measure was the general one kept, as being more 
 convenient for gathering the leaves. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore was greatly interested in the scene. He 
 had never before seen a tea garden. Mr. Lovelace told 
 him that this plant was originally found growing wild in 
 Assam about 1823 by Mr. Bruce ; that on the hills at the 
 upper end of the valley in its wild state it often reached 
 the height of twenty feet, but that the cultivated shrubs 
 were purposely kept low. 
 
 " Do you not think, then, that the Chinese may have 
 obtained the plant from Assam when it belonged, ages 
 ago, to Burmali ? " asked Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 "Very likely," was the reply; "but they alone under- 
 stood its cultivation, and the dressing and preparing of 
 the leaves for the market. Chinamen were at first im- 
 ported to teach the management of the shrub and leaf, 
 but now Coolies brought from Bengal work on the plan- 
 tations. However, we have retained a few Chinamen." 
 
 " What language do the people speak ? " asked Mr. 
 Dunmore. " Bengali ? " 
 
 " Not quite ; there is a great affinity between the lan- 
 guages, but also there are differences. Formerly the law 
 courts were held in the Bengali dialect alone ; but now 
 the Government recognize the dialect of Assam. I have 
 been teaching it to Dick ever since Christmas, and he 
 can make himself understood. I will try him." 
 
 And Mr. Lovelace addressed his nephew in "Assamese," 
 and received quite a fluent answer. 
 
 " A clever lad," said the uncle to Mr. Dunmore. " He 
 will make his way well." 
 
 " Are the natives a good race ? " asked Mr. Dunmore, 
 glancing at a passing servant. 
 
 " Yes, they are kind, good-natured, brave, and amongst
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 189 
 
 themselves hospitable. They are most excellent sons 
 and fathers. The higher class women here are also 
 allowed to go out, and do not hide themselves as other 
 native women do. The Assamese is a fairer complexioned 
 man than his Bengal cousin, and seems more akin in 
 feature to the Chinese." 
 
 They had now walked a considerable way uphill, when 
 suddenly Mr. Lovelace paused. 
 
 " Why, Brown," he said, " this garden extends beyond 
 my grant, does it not ? " 
 
 The manager laughed. 
 
 "Well, yes, sir," he answered, "this land is beyond 
 the Government line, but it was in such a good aspect 
 that I ventured to enclose it. No one used it." 
 
 " Was it no one's property ? " asked his employer, 
 looking puzzled. 
 
 "Well^ in reality it belonged to no one. It was an 
 abandoned waste ; but since I have planted it the Naga 
 chief has come down on me for the price. I assure you, 
 sir, I never expected he would claim it ; and he did not 
 till, by planting it, I had made it valuable. It was a 
 spot free of trees, which 3^cars and years ago they had 
 burned down, in order to sow their grain on the ashes. 
 They reaped a harvest on it, and then, as they always do, 
 abandoned it. So I thought we might take it." 
 
 " It must be paid for," said Mr. Lovelace, very gravely. 
 " I am sorry that you enclosed it. Brown, without first 
 arranging to do so with the chief." 
 
 " It makes the plantation much more valuable," mut- 
 tered Mr. Brown, looking annoyed. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace made no reply, but walked on, frowning 
 and seriously examining the unwelcome addition to his 
 land.
 
 IQO WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Dick," said Lance in a whisper, "I don't care for 
 Master Brown : I don't like the cut of his jib," 
 
 " Nor do I," responded Dick ; " he looks an awful cad, 
 and his nails are so queer. Where ours are pink his are 
 nearly black," 
 
 "He is a half-caste — an Eurasian, they call him," 
 whispered Beatrice. "But papa says he manages the 
 Coolies wonderfully." 
 
 " Are the Coolies slaves ? " asked Lance. 
 
 " Oh, no ! We have no slaves, Lance ; they are hired 
 labourers from Bengal. I heard papa say that the 
 Government protects them by wise laws ; but I daresay 
 Mr. Brown does not care for laws made in Calcutta. 
 The Coolies look greatly delighted at seeing papa back 
 again." 
 
 Little artificial rivulets ran through the plantation, and 
 in a pond at one end of these Beatrice found quite a 
 spoil of water-lilies. 
 
 "From whence do you get the water for this irriga- 
 tion?" asked Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " From a branch of the Kupili, which runs to the west 
 of the plantation," was the reply. " We are blest with 
 many streams here." 
 
 "And have you good fishing ?" asked Harold eagerly. 
 
 "Yes; and we have an enormously big fish in the river 
 called the mahsir. It weighs sometimes as much as sixty 
 pounds." 
 
 " There will be no objection to our fishing, I suppose "i " 
 said Harold, who loved the once needful sport. 
 
 " No ; not in the spots which will be shown you," said 
 Mr. Lovelace. 
 
 Then, turning, they proceeded back towards the house. 
 The walk was rather a long one, but passing through an
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 191 
 
 orange-grove they came at last to a very high stone wall, 
 on which was quite a chevaiix de frise of sharp iron points. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Tom ! what is this fortification ? " asked 
 Dick, astonished. 
 
 " It encloses a portion of the godown," said his uncle, 
 "containing the store-houses ; and here," as they passed 
 beyond the corner of the wall, " here are the huts belong- 
 ing to the families of the household servants, also called 
 the godowns," 
 
 They stood, in fact, in a cluster of neat huts sheltered 
 by banana-trees, beneath which some little children, who 
 wore only a sort of scarf round them, were seated at play. 
 They rose, and stood looking shyly at the sahibs. Mr. 
 Lovelace and the ladies spoke kindly to them, and patted 
 their heads, but were warned by Mr. Lovelace not to 
 praise or admire them, lest the mothers, who had now 
 issued from the huts, should be afraid of the Evil Eye ; 
 indeed, one or two did look uneasy. 
 
 " What is the Evil Eye, Uncle Tom ? " asked Dick. 
 
 " It is a very old superstition, met with in Italy and 
 many other countries, as well as here. Don't you re- 
 member the charms the women near Naples wore, to 
 avert the misfortunes which an evil look may bring ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I had forgotten." 
 
 Beyond a clump of trees they saw a well, from which 
 a boy was drawing water. Passing it, Mr. Lovelace drew 
 a key from his pocket, and opened an iron door in the 
 wall (which ran still beside them as they walked), and 
 admitted them into the enclosure in which were the store- 
 houses. From thence they entered the back of the house, 
 the clerks' portion of it, and here INIr. Brown respect- 
 fully took his leave. 
 
 The hall in this side of the square was as large as that-
 
 192 IVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 at the entrance, but was lined with chests of tea, and 
 evidently was of great service ; from it they entered the 
 narrow line of conservatory, and from thence passed into 
 the court of the fountain, as Beatrice named it, where the 
 sparkling water fell in prismatic hues on that lying in 
 the basin. The air was redolent of the scent of orange- 
 blossoms and stephanotis. 
 
 " Oh, how exquisite ! " cried Beatrice. " It reminds me 
 of the Alhambra." 
 
 " It is pretty," said her stepfather, smiling. "You will 
 like to sit out here. Bee, in the heat of the day, and listen 
 to the plash of the fountain, will you not ? " 
 
 " Indeed I shall ! " said Beatrice, enthusiastically. 
 
 The English boys were very much pleased with every- 
 thing they saw, and still more delighted when Mr. Love- 
 lace said he hoped soon to show them the native sport 
 of spearing the tiger by moonlight. Dick at once begged 
 that they might have spears given them, to practise 
 throwing them, and Mr, Lovelace promised that they 
 should have them. 
 
 When Mr. Lovelace and his guest were sitting in the 
 verandah that evening after dinner, Mr. Lovelace said, 
 
 "I am a little vexed with Brown for enclosing that land, 
 — the hill tribes resent such things more than he knows. 
 You see, they had had the labour of clearing it of trees 
 themselves. That is how they cultivate, or rather, use 
 the land for their harvests : they burn down the trees for 
 a certain space, and then in that virgin earth sow their 
 grain, which yields always a full harvest. They don't 
 often use the same plot a second time, but they look on 
 the clearing as still their own." 
 
 "It is a pity to have roused ill feeling in such neigh- 
 bours," said Mr. Dunmore,
 
 AMONGST THE TEA. 193 
 
 " And there is something else : I don't believe that 
 Brown is as honest as I thought him. With so much 
 more ground under cultivation, I ought to have had a 
 larger sale of tea than that for which he accounts. You 
 see what follows the lack of the master's eye," he added. 
 
 " I did not like the man's face, to tell you the truth," 
 said Mr. Dunmore; "I thought he did not look pleasantly 
 at Dick." 
 
 " He fears another eye on him, perhaps ; or he is jealous 
 of Dick. Well, that doesn't matter; he can't hurt the 
 lad, and Dick will be of immense service to me, I foresee. 
 He is a good accountant and shrewd ; though I don't 
 think he is what bookish men would call clever." 
 
 " He is a first-rate young fellow," said Mr. Dunmore, 
 with enthusiasm, " and I am thankful that Harold has 
 such a friend. But how, if you were attacked by the hill 
 tribes, would you defend yourself?" 
 
 " Well, our walls are thick and strong, and every upper 
 window has an iron shutter, which would at any moment 
 cover the Venetian. The verandah has also iron sliding 
 shutters, which completely shut it in when required." 
 
 "And your garrison } " said Mr. Dunmore; "would the 
 Coolies be of use ? " 
 
 Mr. Lovelace laughed. 
 
 " No," he said, " they would fly in all directions at the 
 least alarm. But we have a number of servants, and the 
 Assamese are brave; and there are my three clerks, Dick, 
 and myself We could hold our own till aid came from 
 the soldiers." 
 
 " And how far off is the military station ? " 
 
 Mr. Lovelace shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Twenty miles by our country paths," he said; "a little 
 
 nearer through the woods." 
 
 25
 
 i^"-:^ 
 
 "ilTrTi; a'tiv "'-''fcv'A.'' w i \i. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE ORANGE GROVE. 
 
 HE next morning Lance was the first of the boys 
 to go downstairs. In the hall he saw Beatrice 
 standing with her hat on. 
 
 " O^ Lance," she said, " I am so glad you are come ; 
 I wai>f to go out and have a walk through the orange 
 grove before breakfast. Will you go? Where are the 
 others ? " 
 
 "They are engaged in mortal combat, the weapons 
 used being bolsters," he replied, laughing. " Dick enjoys 
 a lark of that sort as much as if he were still a school- 
 boy." 
 
 " He is not much else," she said, laughing. " Then 
 shall we go by ourselves ? " 
 
 Lance assented, and they went out of the back door, 
 crossed the court of the fountain, and went through the 
 opposite hall to the enclosure. Here a servant, who was 
 taking potatoes into a shed near the godown, opened 
 the iron door and let them out. They passed through 
 the collection of native huts, and ascended the hill, 
 inhaling with delight the sweet, fresh, cool air of early 
 morning. As they walked on, Beatrice said, 
 
 " Lance, did you ever hear of the Thugs .'' " 
 
 "Of course," said Lance ; " years ago, when I was a little 
 
 104,
 
 THE ORANGE GROVE. 195 
 
 chap, I read a novel called 'The Thug,' and couldn't sleep 
 after it. Are there Thugs here ? " 
 
 " Why," she said, " of course there are ! I have read 
 that they are all over India. Oh ! in a book I saw on 
 board the steamer, there was an account of how the 
 Thugs were first found out. A jar came floating down 
 the river with a cut-up dead body in it, and a rajah who 
 was sitting on the steps down to the water saw the jar, 
 had it drawn on shore, and found one of his European 
 officers inside it. And so he discovered that the country 
 was full of Thugs." 
 
 " But what river was it found in ? " asked Lance, in- 
 terested ; "and how did finding the jar, tell them that 
 there was a society of murderers ? " 
 
 " Oh, I forget the name of the river : I think it was 
 the Brahmaputra, but I 'm not sure, and I forget how 
 they traced it to the Thugs." 
 
 Beatrice never knew anything clearly, and was quite 
 wrong as usual as to the river. Dick always told her 
 her facts needed a local habitation and a date ! 
 
 " I know they had followed the officer for miles and 
 miles," she went on, " and they succeeded at last in 
 throwing their dreadful noose over his head, and strang- 
 ling him. He could not always keep his eyes on them, 
 you know." 
 
 "Did he know they were following him V asked Lance. 
 
 " I don't know ; but I have heard that a Thug never 
 attacks anyone whose eyes are fixed on him. He throws 
 the noose from behind a man's back ; so even a powerful 
 armed soldier is not safe with a Thug behind him." 
 
 "Indeed, no!" said the lad, laughing; "and ugh!" 
 with a shudder, " it must be a horrid thing to be lassooed." 
 And then he directed his companion's attention to the
 
 196 JP'E THREE BOYS. 
 
 strange appearance around them, caused by the ascent 
 of the dew. 
 
 It was still early morning, but the sun had risen, and 
 coils of cloud-like dew were ascending from the grass and 
 herbs, in wreaths of mist; reminding Lance, he said, of the 
 coils of the giant in the "Arabian Nights " coming out of 
 the vase when the fisherman removed the seal. Beatrice 
 made him tell her the story, but as soon as it was done 
 returned to the Thugs. 
 
 Now, as these Oriental assassins may not be amongst 
 our readers' acquaintances, we will just say that they are 
 worshippers of the murdering god — whose temple at 
 Dahpoorie we have ourselves seen — and that they show 
 most devotion to their horrible deity when they sacrifice 
 human life : their devotion being also allied with, self- 
 interest of a mundane character, as they almost invariably 
 choose rich victims to slay and rob. They are a secret 
 society, and members of it may, of course, be found 
 everywhere. Their mode of killing their victim was or is 
 by getting unseen behind him, cleverly throwing a noose 
 over his head, and strangling him. This was always done 
 when he was off his guard, and probably engaged in con- 
 versation by an accomplice. This guild, or society of 
 assassins, was discovered — we believe in the Deccan — and 
 officers and men for the suppression of Thuggee were 
 established half a century ago. But whether the secret 
 assassins are utterly stamped out, or whether they still 
 exist, one can never be sure — at least. Thuggee is much 
 restrained now. 
 
 Beatrice had read an old volume of Miss Roberts's 
 "Overland Journey to India" — written more' than forty 
 years ago — and the story of the jar on the Sutlej had 
 caught her fancy by its romantic horror.
 
 
 IN THE ORANGE GROVE.
 
 THE ORANGE GROVE. 197 
 
 Lance listened. He was fascinated by her vague de- 
 scriptions of these dreadful beings. Like a dream, too, 
 came faint reminiscences of the book which had driven 
 sleep from his childish pillow, and which once more ex- 
 cited his imagination. But the dew coils ceased ascending 
 from the grassy pathway, and he declared that it was time 
 to go back to the house. 
 
 " We can return by the orange grove as we did yester- 
 day, and go round to the front entrance," he said; and 
 Beatrice readily assented. 
 
 They soon entered the wide centre walk of the orange 
 grove, and breathed the scented air of orange blossoms 
 which, with ripe fruit, grew on the same tree. The 
 oranges were some golden, some green, though ripe, and 
 Beatrice uttered rapturous expressions of delight, declar- 
 ing that before they left the grove she must gather some. 
 " But not yet," she added, " because I don't want to carry 
 them far." 
 
 They had reached about the middle of the orange 
 grove when Beatrice's eyes fell on a native in a very slight 
 costume, seated beneath the trees on the edge of the 
 pathway, and holding in his hand a rope with a running 
 noose in it, which he was examining. She started, and 
 whispered to Lance, " Look there ! " Lance also was 
 startled. " Is he a Thug ? " she whispered. 
 
 " I shouldn't think so — in this plantation," he replied ; 
 ** they wouldn't dare come so close to people's dwellings.'' 
 
 " Oh, but they are often amongst the household ser- 
 vants," she said. " It is a secret society, you know. No 
 one can tell who is, or who is not, a Thug." 
 
 " Well, I shall speak to him," said Lance, courageously ; 
 and he went up to the man, who rose and salaamed re- 
 spectfully.
 
 198 PVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " Why are you sitting here ? " asked the English boy 
 —in his own language. " And what is the use of that 
 rope ? " pointing to it. 
 
 The man shook his head, and signified that he did not 
 understand the speaker, both by gestures, and by words 
 which were unintelligible to Lance. 
 
 " I don't think he is any harm," said the lad, returning 
 to Beatrice ; " he looks quiet enough." 
 
 " Oh, of course ! so they all do. But he has a dreadful 
 countenance," she said, with a shudder. "Do let us go 
 on as fast as we can. Lance. But, oh! we must not 
 take our eyes off him ; you must keep your head turned 
 and look at him continually, and when you are tired / 
 will turn and look at him." 
 
 " That would be an awful bore," said the midshipman ; 
 "the shorter plan would be to knock him down if he 
 follows us." 
 
 " Oh, you mustn't indeed touch him," expostulated 
 Beatrice, " their vengeance would follow all the family ; 
 and besides, Uncle Tom told Richard in my hearing 
 that he was never to strike a native. No, indeed you 
 mustn't." 
 
 Lance looked as he felt, annoyed and worried ; to 
 knock a man down only for following him was a strong 
 measure ; yet to allow him to justify it by throwing the 
 lasso, was death. Moreover, he had grave doubts as to 
 the man's being a Thug. 
 
 But, after all, the man might not follow them ; so he 
 went on with Beatrice, who instantly assumed the part 
 of watcher, and walked on with her head turned, looking 
 back. 
 
 Almost immediately she gasped, "Oh, Lance, he is 
 following us ! "
 
 THE ORANGE GROVE. 199 
 
 " Well," said Lance, " if he throws the noose, it will 
 be at me first ; as you are looking perhaps he won't try. 
 If he attempts to do so, I will knock him down." 
 
 " But you won't be able," she sighed ; " you will be 
 choked." 
 
 They proceeded at a brisk walk, for Lance positively 
 refused to run. To show fear, he told Beatrice, would 
 give the Thug courage to attack them. 
 
 At last Beatrice said, " Oh, Lance, my throat aches so; 
 '^\S\.yoii look back at him now?" She did not turn her 
 head to speak to him, but kept her blue eyes earnestly 
 fixed on the native's face all the time she spoke. 
 
 " Well, if I must," said Lance, reluctantly. And Bea- 
 trice turned her head straight with a weary sigh. 
 
 As she did so the man paused ; but when Lance looked 
 back at him, he again slowly but closely followed. And 
 thus they went on : if for a moment Lance glanced aside 
 — for fear did not fix his gaze as it had Beatrice's — when 
 he looked again the man was sure to raise his noose ; 
 threateningly. Lance thought. The poor boy really be- 
 lieved his head would never get right again, so painful 
 grew the unnatural posture thus long sustained ; and 
 he uttered a mental thanksgiving when they reached the 
 end of the grove, for there the man paused, and then 
 gradually retreated back into its shades. 
 
 " He is gone ! " said Lance, drawing a deep breath. 
 
 And then with a wild scream of long-repressed excite- 
 ment, Beatrice darted away from him and ran at full 
 speed towards the house. Lance followed her more 
 slowly. 
 
 When he entered the breakfast-room he found her 
 relating with hysterical tears their " dreadful adventure " 
 to the surprised family. They could not understand
 
 200 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 much from her incoherent words, save that she and 
 Lance had been attacked by a Thug. As soon as they 
 saw him, therefore, Mr. Lovelace said, 
 
 " Lance, what has happened ? Do tell us what Bee 
 means by this Thug story." 
 
 Lance, rather shyly, related their adventure ; he felt 
 annoyed to have to say that he had, if not " run," at least 
 " walked " away from danger. And Beatrice's interrup- 
 tions of "Oh, Lance ! weren't we dreadfully frightened ? " 
 "Oh! didn't we tremble?" added to his annoyance. 
 This reached its acme when Mr. Lovelace burst into an 
 uncontrollable fit of laughter. 
 
 " My dear boy," he said, when Lance ceased speaking, 
 " you were both under the greatest delusion. The man 
 whom you took for a Thug is the keeper of the orange 
 grove ; the rope and noose he uses to draw down the higher 
 branches of the orange-trees to gather the fruit. I dare- 
 say, when he saw you incessantly looking back at him, 
 he understood that you wanted him to follow you to 
 some particular tree to get you oranges from it." 
 
 The annoyance of Lance was extreme ; but being a 
 good-tempered boy, he did not show it more than he 
 could possibly help. 
 
 " I can't think," he said to the other two boys when 
 they were alone, " how I could have been such a goose ; 
 but Beatrice had been telling me one of her cock-and- 
 bull stories about Thugs — and really the fellow's noose 
 was to me inexplicable." 
 
 " I don't think you were a goose," said Harold. " I 
 think the mistake was very natural, and that you were 
 quite right to keep your eye on the suspected individual." 
 
 But Dick could not resist chaffing Lance, who, as the 
 eldest of the three, and one of her Majesty's naval officers,
 
 THE ORANGE GROVE. 
 
 20I 
 
 had rather taken the lead in most matters hitherto. He 
 asked Lance if he would ever be able to get his throat 
 straight again ; called him a " stififnecked individual ; " 
 and even at tiffin kept up the remembrance of the joke 
 by making a noose in his pocket-handkerchief, with which 
 he whisked slyly at the flies. But Lance had the sense 
 to laugh at him, instead of resenting the " chaff," and 
 by-and-bye the matter dropped.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES. 
 
 ANCE, however, was destined to be able shortly 
 to prove that it is no slight sign of courage to 
 look danger in the face. Mr, Lovelace insisted 
 on his riding with the other boys, and had taken some 
 trouble about giving him a few needful instructions ; but 
 Lance did not yet promise to be a good horseman. His 
 seat was not very good, and he repeatedly forgot that 
 he was not steering a boat, and would pull the reins in 
 the contrary direction to that in which he wished to go. 
 Still, he had never had a fall yet, and they rode every 
 day on the hill-side, or through the country tracks in the 
 valley. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace and Mr. Dunmore one day accepted an 
 invitation from one of the neighbouring planters — who, 
 as well as the native gentlemen, had all called on the 
 returned family— to a "pig-sticking" or hog-hunt, at 
 which Dick earnestly begged that "we three boys" might 
 assist ; but he begged in vain. 
 
 In the first place Mr. Lovelace told him that they 
 should be guests for both the day and night at Mr. 
 Smith's, who had invited them, and that he could not 
 take three boys with him ; in the second, that the sport 
 would, as yet, be too dangerous for Lance, who rode so 
 badly ; therefore they must be content to stay at home. 
 
 202
 
 FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES. 203 
 
 They were disappointed, but consoled themselves in 
 the morning by examining a lot of silkworms which Mr. 
 Prince, one of the clerks, had given to Dick, and with 
 which, he assured Harold, he intended to make his for- 
 tune. " For," he said, " the silkworm mulberry-tree grows 
 here, you know ; the worms are first-rate. Silk is one 
 of the productions of Assam. I feel convinced that my 
 worms will in the end beat Uncle Tom's tea." 
 
 In the afternoon they coaxed Mrs. Lovelace to let 
 them take Beatrice for a ride on the hills, and to take 
 little Algy as the companion of her own drive ; but the 
 lady only consented on condition that they should 
 be accompanied by the head gorra wallah or groom, 
 a steady man, who had been long in Mr. Lovelace's 
 service. No objection, of course, could be made to this, 
 nor to her other desire that Lance should have the 
 quietest horse in Mr. Lovelace's stables. And, indeed, 
 when Lance was mounting, the gorrawallah assured Mrs. 
 Lovelace, who had come to the hall door to see them 
 start, that Asia (the steed assigned to the young sailor) 
 was so quiet and steady-nerved that "she would stand 
 still enough for her rider to shoot a tiger," a test to which 
 Lance, laughing, said he would not expose her. 
 
 The ride along the hill-sides and summit was a very 
 pleasant one ; the boys were proud of having Beatrice 
 committed to their care, and they did their best to 
 amuse her. But after sunset the gorrawallah suggested 
 the necessity of returning home, and they had reached 
 a wider and better road on the summit of a hill, on their 
 homeward way, when an antelope bounded up from the 
 jungle which sloped down on each side of the track, 
 and ran before them. The temptation was too great for 
 the younger boys. They started after it with a glad
 
 204 IVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 shout, and were in a moment or two out of sight in pur- 
 suit of it ; though, as they had no guns, they could do 
 nothing but chase it. But Beatrice, when she saw them 
 turn off the main road, was alarmed. 
 
 " Oh, dear! " she cried ; "those boys will get into some 
 trouble. Pray," turning to the gorrawallah riding behind, 
 " pray go after the sahibs and say that the mem sahib " 
 — her mother — " desired us all to keep together, and not 
 to ride down the other side of the hill." 
 
 The gorrawallah at once obeyed, for the "Missee Baba " 
 was a ruling power already in the house. So he rode 
 fast after the delinquents, while Beatrice told Lance that 
 they had better walk their horses till the others returned, 
 or they would arrive before the boys at the house ; and 
 Mrs. Lovelace might be uneasy about them, or perhaps 
 angry with them. Lance assented to this, and they 
 walked their horses till they reached a part of the road 
 where a thick tuft of underwood and high shrubs, ex- 
 tending for a quarter of a mile, bordered one side of the 
 way. Here, suddenly, Lance stopped his horse, with his 
 eyes fixed on this spot of jungle. 
 
 "Beatrice," he said, softly, "don't scream or answer 
 me, but ride on at a gallop after the others, and tell them 
 to bring men and guns to me here from the shikarries' 
 huts. Hush! don't speak — go." 
 
 And greatly alarmed, but obedient and brave, Bee 
 galloped off, while Lance sat like a statue on his horse, 
 with his eyes fixed on the thicket. They held and de- 
 tained those of a huge panther ! Crouching there, it had 
 been arrested in its spring by his gaze, and was still 
 daunted by it. He remained quite still — even when 
 speaking to Beatrice he had never moved his eyes ; but 
 they began to ache and dazzle a little at last.
 
 FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES. 
 
 " I wonder," he thought, " if the brute will outstare me 
 in the end, and then eat me ? Oh, a Thug is nothing to 
 a panther ! How green the fire in his eyes is ! " 
 
 The moments seemed ages to him, yet Beatrice had 
 ridden at full speed, and met the boys and groom re- 
 turning. She breathlessly gave Lance's message. 
 
 " Ride on to the shikarries' huts," said Dick to the 
 groom (they were not far off), " and take the missie with 
 you. Harold and I will ride back to Lance, Bee — there 
 may be ' a tiger in the path.' " And the boys set off at full 
 gallop. 
 
 As the welcome sound of their approaching horses 
 hoofs reached Lance, it reached also the ears of the 
 panther, which suddenly crept back into the jungle. 
 
 "Hallo, Lance, what is it ? " cried Dick, from a distance. 
 
 And Lance, now relieved by the disappearance of his 
 foe, rode up to meet them. 
 
 " I was holding an interview with a panther," he said, 
 "and it grew wearisome." 
 
 "With a panther! Where is he?" cried Harold. 
 
 "He has stolen back into the jungle," said Lance; 
 "the brute nearly outstared me. You know we have 
 always been told that wild beasts dread the human eye. 
 Well, I caught this fellow's just as he was about to spring, 
 and I never left off staring, till either the sound of your 
 approaching hoofs drove him away, or else his eyes were 
 tired." 
 
 A tremendous growling and rustling in the jungle In- 
 terrupted him. 
 
 " Oh ! that is why he went off," cried Lance, as they 
 perceived — close by the spot he had just left — a panther, 
 fighting for life with two huge hounds, burst out of 
 the thicket. In a minute or two more the owner of the
 
 2c6 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 dogs broke from the jungle, and, raising a rifle, shot the 
 panther right through the head. 
 
 Then he saw the boys, who rode up to him uttering 
 exclamations of surprise. 
 
 " A savage beast," he said, laughing up at them ; " a 
 black panther." 
 
 Harold exclaimed, "Then you were not mistaken, 
 Lance. Really, when you said you had outstared a 
 panther, I fancied you must have taken a wild cat for 
 one; I thought a panther never could have been so easily 
 daunted." 
 
 "What is that ? " asked the stranger, a handsome young 
 man in sporting costume. 
 
 The boys told him how Lance had held back the 
 panther. He was much interested. 
 
 " I have known similar instances," he said. " General 
 Sir Charles Napier did exactly the same thing as this 
 young gentleman ; he sent on Lady Napier, who was 
 riding with him, alone ; and held tzuo leopards with his 
 eagle eyes till the help she went to bring came. But it 
 was a very cool thing for a boy like you to do. I must 
 give you the panther's skin in recompence of your courage. 
 He turned back no doubt because he smelt the hounds." 
 
 "We did not hear them bay," said Harold. 
 
 " No, they are Assam wild dogs tamed ; they do not 
 give tongue, but hunt silently. 
 
 "Ah, here come my shikarries," he added, as two 
 native huntsmen issued from the jungle. He gave them 
 <5ome orders in their own tongue, and they hastened to 
 draw off the dogs from the panther and skin it. The 
 stranger then asked the boys' names, and on hearing 
 them, shook Dick by the hand. 
 
 "Your uncle and I are good friends and near neigh-
 
 FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES. 207 
 
 bours," he said. " In fact, I am his nearest neighbour. 
 My name is Vivien — you may have heard it. I am glad 
 to have made your acquaintance. Ah, here comes the 
 rescue, rather after time ! " as the young lady, the groom, 
 and the shikarries with guns running by the horses, 
 appeared. 
 
 The affair was at once explained when Beatrice came 
 up, and all went to look at the panther which Dick 
 declared Lance had mesmerized. 
 
 " You had better take care. Bee," he whispered to his 
 cousin, "or he will mesmerize you, and make you run 
 after him wherever he pleases. Joseph Balsamo was a 
 fool to Lance," 
 
 Lance now introduced Mr. Vivien, who congratulated 
 the young lady on her escape, and paid Lance a high 
 compliment for his presence of mind. They chatted 
 pleasantly for some minutes, then Beatrice asked Mr. 
 Vivien — as he must be fatigued with a day's sport — if he 
 would go home with them (their house was not far off) 
 and rest ? Mr. Vivien at once accepted the invitation, 
 told his shikarries to bring the panther's skin to Mr. 
 Lovelace's compound, and went back with the young 
 people, walking beside Beatrice's horse, and compliment- 
 ing her on her ready obedience and her courage. 
 
 " The panther would have sprung out at you," he said, 
 "at the least sign of fear. You are well fitted for a 
 dweller in the East, Miss Lovelace." 
 
 Dick, seeing the admiration in the stranger's eyes and 
 Beatrice's pretty blushes, touched Harold with his whip, 
 and whispered significantly, " Spoons." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace received Mr. Vivien as an old acquain- 
 tance, and asked him why he had not been to see them 
 before. He replied that he had been absent for a time
 
 2o8 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 from home, and was, like themselves, only just returned. 
 Then the story of the panther had again to be told ; but 
 this time behind Lance's back, for the boys had run out 
 into the hall to receive the skin when it should come. 
 And also, Harold declared, because Lance, like Coriolanus, 
 disliked to hear " his nothings monstered." In conse- 
 quence of which assertion they chose henceforward to 
 call him Corioli. 
 
 " Lance ! Lance ! " cried Harold, the next morning ; 
 " come here, quickly. The jugglers and snake-charmers 
 are here ! " 
 
 Lance speedily obeyed the summons and joined the 
 family, who were seated on an open space of gravel just 
 in front of the house, shut in on one side by a jessamine 
 hedge of some thickness, and, behold ! there were as- 
 sembled the jugglers and snake-charmers of the East. 
 The snake charming began the performance. From one 
 of those large soft elastic baskets used by the borers — 
 i.e., pedlars — of the East, the snake-charmer brought 
 forth his hideously beautiful pets. You will say the 
 terms are a contradiction ; but just think of the really 
 beautiful colours of the animal, of its graceful coils, of 
 its bright eyes ; and you will see that it is beautiful in 
 form and colour, and yet hideous because it is an embo- 
 diment of a most cruel nature. Listinctively men fear 
 and hate that terrible beauty. 
 
 But the snake-charmers had no fear ; they drew out 
 the dreadful things and let them crawl and twine round 
 them ; raised them above their heads, knotted them up, 
 made them move in a queer rhythmical measure on the 
 head of a drum, which they called a dance ; nay, they 
 were taken to the spectators, and one long snake — it was 
 a water-snake, and therefore harmless — was suffered to
 
 FIGHTING WITH HIS EYES. 209 
 
 coil round Beatrice, who stood up to permit it It looked 
 up at her with its wicked eyes, then, at a sound from its 
 master's instrument, fell off her. The girl shuddered 
 strongly as she was released from its folds, and Mr. 
 Vivien — who had called in and joined the spectators 
 whilst the reptile was round her — was quite pale with 
 emotion. 
 
 "How could you permit such a thing?" he asked of 
 Mr. Lovelace, almost indignantly. 
 
 " It is a harmless creature," said his friend, laughing ; 
 " a water-snake. I should not have allowed her to play 
 with a cobra." 
 
 " Good heavens ! I should think not. Do you not 
 know that the charmers are often bitten .'' The teeth 
 are drawn, and the snake is then harmless; but the fangs 
 grow again, often without the charmer's perceiving them, 
 and then you may guess the result." 
 
 The boys were glad when the other performances 
 commenced. 
 
 The men brought forward one of those baskets, to 
 which we have already alluded, used by boilers — or ped- 
 lars — which lie nearly flat when not used, being made of 
 perfectly soft plaited straw, but, when full, swell to some 
 size and thickness. At each end of this basket they 
 placed a tripod, with sweet spices and perfumes burning 
 in it ; then the juggler, beating a tom-tom and invoking 
 his gods, walked round them. He then took a boy of 
 about twelve years old — a lithe, dark, smiling boy — 
 bound his hands and feet together, and bent his knees 
 up to his chin ; then he put him into a kind of net like 
 a cabbage-net, and carried him round the circle in it, for 
 every one to inspect it, and see how closely he was bound. 
 Dick, Lance, and Harold laughed as they caught the 
 
 27
 
 2IO IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 glitter of the boy's sparkling eyes through the meshes, and 
 held the net themselves. Then the juggler placed him, 
 still in the net, in the basket, which of course rose up 
 and seemed full. The juggler covered it with a black 
 pall ; then, taking a naked sword, he thrust it into the 
 basket, through it, round it, in every corner. One would 
 have thought that the boy within it had no place of 
 refuge from the deadly weapon. Then suddenly the 
 juggler approached Beatrice. 
 
 "The lad," he said, "shall now — as he has escaped 
 death — be turned into any kind of animal the Missie 
 Baba wishes. Will she signify her will ? " 
 Mr. Lovelace interpreted his words. 
 
 "Oh ! change him into a dove, and let him fly to • 
 
 where ? — oh, to Mr. Vivien's," she replied, laughing, and 
 glancing at their new friend. 
 
 The juggler salaamed, and went back to his basket. 
 And then the tom-toming began again, with a strange 
 weird minor chant. The basket sank; the pall lifted; out 
 flew the ligatures which had bound the boy, and forth 
 fluttered a snow-white dove, which the juggler com- 
 manded to fly to the bungalow of Vivien sahib. 
 The bird flew swiftly in the direction named. 
 "He will be gone thirty minutes," said the juggler; "we 
 have time for beginning to make the mango-tree grow." 
 
 A flower-pot was brought, the great stone of the mango 
 was placed in it, covered with earth and water ; then it 
 was left for a few moments, while the tumblers exhibited 
 their tricks, standing on each other's hands, arms, and 
 heads, till they formed a pyramid ; while some women 
 took water in their mouths, and made it play in a fountain 
 from their nose, a trick with which the ladies were dis- 
 gusted ; but at which the boys laughed.
 
 FIGHTING V/ITH HIS EYES. 211 
 
 Then a man advanced who was to perform the most 
 wonderful of their arts. He was to Hft a heavy, large 
 stone two feet high and two feet wide each way, from the 
 ground by his eyelids ! 
 
 The stone was examined ; the boys with a strain could 
 scarcely raise it in their arms. The juggler proceeded to 
 prepare for lifting it with his eyelids. A strong chain was 
 first attached to a hook in the stone ; a finer one hooked 
 into that ; again a finer chain ; a fourth finer still. All 
 of them were short. The last chain was fastened to a 
 piece of tin about the size of a fourpenny piece. The 
 performer slipped this small disc under his eyelid, and 
 then his companions tied his hands behind him. Of 
 course he was stooping low, for the chains were short ; 
 then he began to raise himself, and with himself the 
 great stone. The spectators held their breath. He began 
 slowly, then made a great effort, and behold ! the heavy 
 stone rested on his breast, lifted there only by the eye- 
 lids. 
 
 Beatrice was glad when this "horrid trick" as she called 
 it, was over ; especially as Mr. Vivien told her that it 
 was no trick ; that the stone v/as lifted mechanically, not 
 in appearance only, and that the performer must ulti- 
 mately, and in a comparatively short time, pay for the 
 feat by blindness, therefore an exceptional sum was 
 always paid for the exhibition. 
 
 The chief juggler now raised the cover of the flower- 
 pot, and showed a tiny mango-tree, green and strong, 
 the growth of thirty minutes. It was watered and again 
 covered. Then the juggler uttered a shrill weird cry. It 
 was the summons to his dove, and a fluttering of wings 
 was heard. The dove reappeared, and perched on the 
 juggler's shoulder. He raised the pall and put the bird
 
 212 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 under it. Then the apparently empty basket again rose 
 and swelled, the pall was thrown back, and the boy 
 appeared again, salaaming all round, and evidently glad 
 to be free once more.* 
 
 Then followed the throwing up and catching of oranges ; 
 kindling a lire upon a man's head ; breaking a cocoanut 
 with the head — z>., the fruit was thrown up like a ball, 
 caught, and at the same time broken on the performer's 
 head ; and finally the mango-tree grown half a yard high! 
 
 This closed the performances. Mr. Lovelace and his 
 friends made the party of jugglers a very handsome pre- 
 sent, and they departed well pleased. 
 
 Our readers will not be very much surprised to hear 
 that loud cries and scolding from Benedetta the next 
 day announced that Algy had pushed a sixpence under 
 his eyelid in imitation of the juggler, and was hurt by 
 the attempt. 
 
 * These performances were witnessed by the author at Ddhpoorie 
 in the Deccan. They are, by the privilege of fiction, transported 
 here to Assam.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A TIGER-HUNT BY MOONLIGHT. 
 
 R. LOVELACE did not wish his nephew to enter 
 on the office work immediately ; he meant Dick 
 first to get acchmatized, and to look about him, 
 and understand the tea gardens and their cultivation a 
 little ; therefore the three boys had still a great deal of 
 leisure, but they were never unoccupied. 
 
 They went shooting occasionally with Mr. Lovelace 
 and Mr. Dunmore. They rode daily. In the house Dick 
 had his silkworms ; and, with the other two boys, stuffed 
 the skins of the birds they shot, or taught a parrot 
 Lance had caught, to talk. The bird was very clever, 
 and learned easily. She also seemed to know the family 
 apart, and at the sight of Beatrice, who often gave her 
 bits of fruit, she would dance on her perch and sing as 
 Lance had taught her, " Bee-Bee is a beautce," with all 
 her might. They also found amusement in talking to 
 Sambo, who was in raptures with his new home. The 
 sunshine, the comforts ; the groves of tea, which were 
 new to him, delighted him. He fraternized with the 
 Coolies (whether those from Bengal or China), and 
 was always on the alert to learn the customs of the 
 country and its dialect. Sambo possessed in a strong 
 degree his countrymen's talent for catching up languages 
 
 213
 
 214 ^^^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 and speaking them in the negro's own fashion, and he 
 soon could make himself intelligible in their language. 
 The boys liked his endless stories of Africa, or of the 
 English ships in which he had sailed. Sambo had had 
 no end of adventures, and related them so comically, 
 that the boys used to roar with laughter, both with him 
 and at him. Then in the afternoon they had long and 
 pleasant rides with Mr. Dunmore and Mr. Lovelace, and 
 saw a great deal of the country. Lance, however, who 
 did not much care for riding— his leg being still a little 
 weak — frequently went in the carriage for a drive with 
 Mrs. Lovelace, Beatrice, and little Algy. 
 
 One evening about five o'clock, as they were driving 
 — Lance with them— on the top of a hill, with a declivity 
 on each side full of thick jungle, an incident occurred 
 which considerably startled them. The road was only 
 of sufficient width to allow two carriages to pass each 
 other, when suddenly the horses shied and stood still, 
 trembling all over ; the next moment an antelope at its 
 fullest speed darted across the road, and with one tre- 
 mendous bound a tiger followed it. Happily the chase 
 passed about a dozen yards in advance of the startled 
 horses. The coachman turned round with an exclama- 
 tion of "Tiger, Mem Sahib !" and, turning his horses, 
 drove back at full speed to the plantation. 
 
 The adventure was related at once by the ladies to 
 Mr. Lovelace; who was inclined, as Harold had been, to 
 believe that they had mistaken a tiger-cat for his terrible 
 cousin ; but the coachman, who was sent for, confirmed 
 the fact. 
 
 " It was a real tiger ; and when the sahibs had killed 
 him, he "—the coachman — " would claim the fifty rupees 
 given for the news of a tiger's neighbourhood."
 
 A TIGER-HUNT BY MOONLIGHT. 215 
 
 " We must hunt him, of course," said Mr. Lovelace. 
 
 Bonfires were kindled that night all round the plan- 
 tation, and tom-toms beaten loudly to keep off the great 
 beast. Before night fell Mr. Lovelace had sent messen- 
 gers to all the nearest plantations, to warn them of the 
 neighbourhood of the dreaded animal ; but the warning 
 in one instance proved vain. A groom, or gorrawallah, 
 was carried off from Mr. Vivien's compound the same 
 night ; and an immediate tiger - hunt was of course 
 arranged. 
 
 The boys were delighted ; especially as from the tiger's 
 course being traced down towards the river, a boat chase 
 was arranged instead of shooting him from a inachduy 
 or platform, built against a tree, at some height from the 
 ground. He would be sure to go at night to the stream 
 to drink, and then they could spear him — the Assamese 
 being used to this mode of hunting him. The boys 
 eagerly entreated to be allowed to join the hunting 
 party, and though Mrs. Lovelace rather opposed their 
 wishes, the gentlemen, after sundry promises from the 
 lads that they would be careful and obedient to orders, 
 yielded an assent ; and thus it happened that they were 
 of the party who assembled on the shore of the river at 
 sunset next evening to embark on this adventure. 
 
 There were three or four large boats — about the size 
 of blinder boats, but without the cabin — with crews of 
 Assamese, armed with spears, waiting for them. The 
 gentlemen all had rifles ; Sambo, who insisted on being 
 of the party, had armed himself with a huge knife, which 
 he had borrowed from the butcher, and had most care- 
 fully sharpened. 
 
 The scene, when the brief twilight of the tropics passed 
 into moonlight, was magnificent. The river lay a still
 
 2i6 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 silver pathway with scarcely a ripple on its surface before 
 them in the brilliant moonlight, its banks edged with a 
 wide border of reeds and gigantic grasses, from which 
 now and then a water-bird flew up silently. Mr. Love- 
 lace's boat led the way, and soon was some distance 
 ahead of the others. 
 
 Now and then the flitting silent shadow on the water 
 startled some timid antelope drinking of the stream, and 
 it fled swiftly. Once they thought they perceived a bear 
 steal away from amongst the rushes, but they were not 
 to be tempted by other creatures from their pursuit of 
 the terrible maneater. 
 
 At length, when they had pulled a little more than a 
 mile, the look-out at the bow raised his hand as a sign 
 to stop. The men rested on their oars, and then, at a 
 second sign, softly approached the land, keeping now 
 rather under cover of the reeds close in shore. And then, 
 at another sign, the hunters quietly shipped their oars, 
 and grasped their spears ; for, drinking, and not aware of 
 their presence — they were coming up against the wind, 
 so there was no taint in the air to warn him — they be- 
 held the beautiful and cruel tyrant of the jungle. The 
 thud of a spear on his side was the first indication he 
 received of the presence of his foes. He looked up 
 with a wrathful growl, and drew his body up for a spring; 
 but a flight of spears came on him, and with a yell of 
 aneuish he fell on his knees. Mr. Dunmore and Mr. Love- 
 lace simultaneously fired at him, to put him out of his pain. 
 Then he rolled over in the high grass and reeds, dead. 
 
 There was a shout of triumph from the Assamese, 
 whose broad Chinese-like faces looked pale in the moon- 
 light, and they called to the coxswain to put in closer to 
 shore. The skin and head of the tiger must be secured.
 
 A TIGER-HUNT BY MOONLIGHT. 217 
 
 " Are you sure he is dead ? " asked Mr. Lovelace, 
 
 The men assured him that he must be, and as the boat 
 touched the reeds they sprang on shore. The boys, who 
 were of course in Mr. Lovelace's boat, were eagerly 
 following, when Mr. Dunmore, who was about to spring 
 on shore, forbade them. 
 
 " Stay with Mr. Lovelace," he said ; " we may find other 
 dangerous acquaintances here yet. You are needed to 
 take care of the boat." 
 
 And the lads drew back reluctantly, remaining with 
 only Mr. Lovelace, the coxswain, and Sambo in the boat. 
 All the rest hurried on shore, for the other boats were 
 approaching, and the men wished to assure their own 
 claims to the reward for killing a tiger. 
 
 Only the voices of the men now came from the shore, 
 and Mr. Lovelace had just said, " The tiger is certainly 
 dead," when a tremendous growl burst on their ear, and 
 a huge tigress, who had been stealthily making her way 
 unobserved, by creeping through the reeds and tall 
 grasses, sprang towards them and alighted on the gun- 
 wale of the boat — an inch or two would have landed 
 her inside it ! As it was, her huge distended jaws were 
 opened to seize Mr. Lovelace (who had laid down his 
 rifle after firing), when Sambo sprang forwards and 
 plunged his knife into her side. The wound was great, 
 but not mortal ; it served, however, to divert the tigress 
 from her prey to her new foe. She turned suddenly, 
 and was drawing up her body to spring on the negro, 
 who had dodged instantly over to the other side of the 
 boat, when the three boys, who were standing at the bow 
 — they had been watching the men on shore — fired with 
 perfect aim, and the tigress rolled over into the river 
 dead, dragging the gunwale of the boat down to the 
 
 2S
 
 2i8 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 water's edge with her, and thus throwing Dick overboard. 
 He fell on the animal ; but succeeded in escaping her 
 terrible claws, outstretched even in death, and the next 
 moment found Lance's hand on his collar. 
 
 In a moment the two boys were pulled into the boat 
 by Sambo and Harold, who shouted loudly for help, as 
 they feared the body of the tigress would be washed 
 away from them by the stream ; but the hoarse growl of 
 the beast had caused the shore party to run back at 
 once to the spot, and they were now ready to help the 
 boys to get the creature's body on shore. They had 
 witnessed the whole scene, and were vociferous in admi- 
 ration of the courage of Sambo and the skill of the boys 
 with their rifles. 
 
 " You have had a narrow escape," said Mr. Dunmore, 
 pale with emotion, as he grasped his friend's hand. 
 
 " Yes ; I owe my life to Sambo, whose self-devotion 
 I can never repay," said Mr. Lovelace. " That stab in 
 the animal's side saved me, at his own peril." 
 
 " Oh, massa ! me tink nothin' of that," said Sambo, 
 proudly. " Couldn't let tigress gobble up massa and not 
 try to save him." 
 
 " I had a very narrow escape," said Mr, Lovelace, 
 shuddering. " I actually felt the creature's hot breath in 
 my face." 
 
 " But," said the negro, " Sambo not have been here to 
 have massa tank him, if young gentlemen not have fired 
 so coolly." 
 
 " It was a horrible danger," said Mr. Dunmore, who 
 was quite pale. " I thought at first that such a mode of 
 tiger-hunting must be safer than on the machany 
 
 "No kind of tiger-hunting is without perilous risk," 
 said Mr. Lovelace. " But I must go to our young people.
 
 A TIGER-HU^JT BY MOONLIGHT. 219 
 
 You had better come also, and leave the boat; our 
 friends are close here now." 
 
 The boats had come up; Mr. Vivien's first, and the 
 story had to be told of their danger and of their success 
 in " bagging " two tigers — male and female. 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Vivien, "the cubs are in the jungle 
 grass, be sure. The tigress would first hide them before 
 she sprang. Let us go in search of them." 
 
 And the hunters landed and started off, the shikarries 
 beating the tall grass and reeds up to the verge of the 
 forest. Soon a cry of triumph from the boys — who, 
 having returned from seeing their tiger safe in the men's 
 hands, were eager for a new adventure, and had started 
 with Mr. Vivien's people — announced that the progeny 
 of the slain tigers had been found ; not very small cubs 
 either ; but they were soon knocked on the head as 
 too dangerous to be let live, and after a vain search 
 for the traces of more of the majestic game they sought, 
 the party re-embarked, though rather differently : the 
 boys remaining with Mr. Vivien and going in his boat; 
 for which they had cause to rejoice, for after ascending 
 the river for half a mile or so farther, they speared a 
 panther in grand style, and shot a small native bear. 
 
 The excitement of this success was great, and the 
 party, satisfied with their night's excursion, made their 
 way back down the river. 
 
 "We have killed two tigers, a panther, and a bear," 
 said Dick, exultantly, "That's a pretty fair gain for 
 one night, isn't it, Mr. Vivien ? " 
 
 "Very good indeed, Dick." 
 
 "But," said Dick, "I think I should like a hunt on 
 land better. This is too creepy, stealthy a kind of hunt- 
 ing to please me."
 
 220 WE THREE SO VS. 
 
 " Yes ; the hunt of the tiger on elephants is far plea- 
 santer ; on horseback it is still better ; but we must take 
 all means of destroying the wild beasts when they appear 
 likely to be dangerous to human life, and we are getting 
 too many into this neighbourhood lately. I think we 
 must let the natives set some traps for them. There 
 would still be enough for sport." 
 
 " What traps do they set ? " asked Harold. 
 
 "They fix a weapon somewhat resembling an old cross- 
 bow in the trees, with a poisoned arrow fixed fo it. Then 
 they tie a string to the trigger, which if pulled discharges 
 it, and they carry this string across the path low down. 
 The tiger in passing pulls it himself, and thus commits 
 involuntary suicide, for he is usually found dead a few 
 paces off." 
 
 " That seems to me a cowardly way of killing them." 
 
 " But they are pests which we must destroy as we best 
 can," said Mr, Vivien. " Do you know that a maneater 
 once killed nearly a hundred people near here, and the 
 village would have been depopulated had not an English- 
 man shot it. In other parts of India tigers have been 
 known to kill a hundred and twenty-seven people in a 
 few weeks." 
 
 ** Mr. Lovelace says that you have a pack of wild dogs 
 like those you had with you when you killed the panther, 
 do they hunt tigers } " asked Harold. 
 
 "Yes ; they hunt him in packs of thirty or more, and 
 never leave the chase till he is killed and eaten," said 
 Mr. Vivien. " Are you fond of dogs ? " 
 
 "Very," said Harold, enthusiastically. (Sir Jasper 
 would never let him keep a pet dog, but he loved the 
 pointers and setters which were allowed for use on the 
 estate.) " I am very fond of dogs."
 
 A TIGER-HUNT BY MOONLIGHT. 221 
 
 " Then I will give you a Burmese dog — a very funny 
 creature, I assure you." 
 
 Harold thanked Mr. Vivien warmly for this promise. 
 
 They were received on landing by a rejoicing crowd 
 from the nearest villages, who looked on the Englishmen 
 as public benefactors for destroying the horrible maneater. 
 
 With kindly farewells they parted, and dispersed to 
 their several homes, horses awaiting them all at the 
 landing-place. And thus ended the tiger-hunt by 
 moonlight. 
 
 The boys and Sambo were considered quite the heroes 
 of the day, and Mrs. Lovelace declared, when she heard 
 of their adventure, that she had good cause to be glad 
 her wishes had been thwarted — that they had not been 
 left behind at home. 
 
 " Their obedience to orders gave them the chance of 
 being so useful," said Mr. Lovelace. " They wanted to 
 go on shore, naturally, to look at the dead tiger, but they 
 obeyed Dunmore and stayed on board ; and in the path 
 of duty they met — a tigress," with a laugh. 
 
 "And I am glad we did," said Dick. "Sambo is worth 
 a troop of tigers — that nigger is as brave as he is funny." 
 
 " We gained something, you see, by our residence on 
 the Arab island," said Beatrice. 
 
 "A valuable stowaway," laughed Lance. 
 
 Sambo received a good part of the reward for killing 
 a tigress, and was a very happy negro ; the boys were 
 equally delighted, though of course they received no part 
 of the reward given to the slayers of the tiger.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 
 
 R. VIVIEN did not forget his promise. The 
 Burmese dog arrived in due course at the plan- 
 tation, and Harold saw an animal about the 
 size of a medium-sized spaniel, hairy as a Scotch terrier, 
 and white and black. As soon as he found himself alone, 
 Karen, as Harold named him from his native place, pro- 
 ceeded to dig a hole in the ground, into which he crawled 
 backwards and remained there, only his nose and red 
 eyes appearing from it. Harold was not charmed by his 
 new pet, but Dick took a strange fancy to the dog and 
 often brought him dainty bits of food. Karen rewarded 
 him by showing great affection to him, and following him 
 about the plantation. But he took a violent dislike to 
 Mr, Brown the manager, and would always snarl when 
 he (Mr. Brown) passed his hole. 
 
 Mr. Brown, however, had apparently got over his 
 objection to Mr. Lovelace's nephew, and was very civil 
 and kind to the boys, who were seldom apart. He 
 supplied Dick with fresh mulberry-leaves for his silk- 
 w^orms, taught the parrot himself, and was generally 
 amiable. Also he took pains to teach Dick the working 
 of the tea plantation. 
 
 One day he came up to the boys as they were in the 
 
 222
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 223 
 
 tea gardens, and asked them if they would like a little 
 shooting on the outskirts of the forest which clothed the 
 side of the hills, and shut them in towards the cast. 
 They said "yes" with natural eagerness, and ran off at 
 once for their guns. 
 
 There could be no objection to their going under Mr. 
 Brown's escort. They had been forbidden to go into 
 the forest by themselves, but not with the manager ; so 
 they did not go and ask permission, but as they ran back 
 they met Sambo, who at once declared that he must go 
 with them. 
 
 "Golly, Massa Dick ! " he said "s'pose you meet tiger! 
 then Sambo the man for him, with his big knife. I not 
 like Massa Brown. I go too — take care of you young 
 gen'lmen." 
 
 And the boys readily assented. So the five went into 
 the forest, for although Brown frowned at the negro, 
 and bade him go back to the house, Dick would not let 
 him be browbeaten, and said he should not go without 
 Sambo. The Burmese dog had also joined Dick, and 
 trotted along by his side. 
 
 " You had better send that dog back," said Brown, "or 
 he may get into mischief; he is not a sporting dog." 
 
 But Karen looked up so wistfully in Dick's face, and 
 wagged his tail so entreatingly, that the boy would not 
 send him back. 
 
 " We shan't go into the neighbourhood of wild beasts," 
 he said, " so Karen can do no harm ; and, besides, he 
 never barks at anything, he is a mute dog." 
 
 Brown growled out something, and they went on. 
 And now their guns were in incessant use, for pheasants 
 abounded, and they had at length two great bags full. 
 Once or twice Sambo had said to Harold,
 
 224 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 "Massa Harold, we go too far in forest; much too far." 
 
 And Harold had answered, " Mr. Brown will not take 
 us too far. Sambo." 
 
 But now Mr. Brown seemed to wake to a sudden con- 
 sciousness that they /lad proceeded too far, for he looked 
 about him with an air of perplexity, and said, 
 
 " I declare I think we have come too far into the 
 woods, young gentlemen ; I don't quite know where we 
 are. If you will excuse me, I will go up yonder hill and 
 just see how the land lies. Will you kindly wait here 
 with the game ? the bags are rather heavy," and he laid 
 his own down by Dick's feet — Sambo was carrying the 
 other. " I won't be more than three minutes or so gone." 
 
 And he went off at a swinging pace. The boys had not 
 had time to say, as they wished, that they would go with 
 him. They watched him disappear behind the trees, 
 surprised and a little vexed ; but they stood still and 
 waited. 
 
 Suddenly a piteous howl reached their ears, and Dick, 
 who recognized the voice, cried "Karen!" and hurried 
 down the path in front of them from whence the sound 
 came. Alas ! he beheld his poor pet with an arrow 
 sticking in his side, his paw entangled in a string. Dick's 
 shout brought the others at once to the spot. By the 
 time they arrived he had drawn the arrow from Karen's 
 neck ; but Harold cried out, 
 
 "Take care, Dick! Throw it away; it is poisoned." 
 
 Dick obeyed at once ; and it must have been dipped 
 in a deadly poison indeed, for Karen lived only five 
 minutes longer. Dick had released his paw from the 
 string, and, at Harold's hurried request, was turning back 
 again, when the poor dog staggered, fell down, and died 
 in a strong convulsion. Dick Wcis dreadfully distressed J
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 
 
 he would not leave his dog till he saw that it was dead, 
 and Harold grew anxious. Lance ran on to the place 
 they had left, lest Brown might return and miss them. 
 But when the others also reached the spot, no one but 
 Lance was there. They looked at each other surprised. 
 
 " Brown ought to have been back," said Dick. 
 
 " Perhaps he has been, and not finding us here, has 
 gone into the wood in search of us," said Lance. " Let 
 us shout, that he may know we are here." 
 
 And all four shouted loudly and repeatedly; but no 
 Brown answered or appeared. They grew very uneasy. 
 
 " Can he have been picked off by a tiger .-' " asked 
 Harold in an awed voice. 
 
 " I don't know," said Lance. " He might have gone 
 to the top of the hill and back twice by now ; but we 
 have not heard of any tigers about here." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Harold, " they must think there arc, for 
 that was a tiger-trap that killed poor Karen. Did you 
 not hear Mr. Vivien tell me about them ? " 
 
 They had not, and Harold repeated that which the 
 gentleman had told him. They were surprised and 
 alarmed. 
 
 " Then Brown may have been carried off by one," said 
 Dick ; " and, if so, what shall wc do to get home ? How 
 shall we find the way ^ " 
 
 No one seemed able to answer this question. 
 
 " Massa Dick, I think that fellah not come back any 
 way," said Sambo at last. " Wc best try to get home 
 'fore dark." 
 
 They unanimously accepted this advice, and set out 
 in the endeavour to retrace their steps. But where 
 there are no paths it is difficult to find the way. The 
 twilight was fast deepening into night — twilight is a mere
 
 226 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 swiftly passing shadow there — and though the trees 
 looked exactly like those they had passed before, and 
 they thought they kept in the same direction, they found 
 only a thicker woodland, and no sign of an opening. 
 They were farther in the forest than ever, and now the 
 \aoor\ rose in silvery splendour, the shadows seemed 
 to darken and grow thicker, and the noises of an Indian 
 night began : — the boom of the mosquitoes, who already 
 attacked the boys' faces ; the noise of that strange insect 
 which emulates a sleeping man's snore ; the cry of the 
 jackal ; the distant hiss of the snake. It was an awful 
 position for the boys. 
 
 " Tell you what, young gentlemen," said Sambo : " these 
 here trees grow close togedder — best climb up 'um and 
 sit dere till daylight come. P'r'aps we go on we meet 
 tiger. I'd make fire, but see no sticks, and have no match." 
 
 The boys voted his advice again good, especially as 
 the trees were thick, not mere palms, but forest trees 
 of great size and height. 
 
 They determined to climb up in them — two in each 
 neighbouring tree — and there watch till dawn; and very 
 soon they were seated on the great branches, and listen- 
 ing in no little anxiety to the noises of the night. 
 
 "A tiger can't climb a tree, thank goodness," said Dick 
 to Sambo. 
 
 "No, massa, but leopard and bear can, and boa- 
 constrictor too ; but you got gun, I got knife. We keep 
 them off, I 'sure you." 
 
 "Sambo, you are a brave fellow," said Dick. "One 
 feels safe with you." 
 
 " Ah, massa ! You ask Somebody up in Heaven co 
 keep you safe, and He will. Sambo not much good. I 
 hear tell in my country how good man who love God and
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 227 
 
 i 
 I 
 
 negro, was once caught by lion, and knocked down 
 under lion. Lion shook him and bit his arm through, ; 
 but he pray, and God deliver him from the lion — send 
 men to shoot lion, and good man not dead." 
 
 " Tell me a story about lions. Sambo," said Dick, "and 
 then the night won't seem so long." 
 
 And Sambo, nothing loth, at once complied. 
 
 "Young massa, before I was slave first time, when I 
 was piccaniny, I live close on edge of big forest, in nice 
 hut village there, and village piccaninies always told by 
 mammies not to go inside wood. But black piccaninies 
 always want to do what they ought not." 
 
 " And white piccaninies too ! " laughed Dick. 
 
 "Well," went on Sambo, "one day we all run into 
 wood. We play ' slave-hunter 's come ; ' we must hide ; 
 and we go. Well, we run on and run on ; but bymby 
 we see hole in rock leading into narrow passage. Good 
 place to hide in dat ; so in we run. At end of passage 
 we find big cave, and in it playing like kittens two lion's 
 cubs. First piccaninies very pleased, say, ' We take cubs 
 for pets — make tame — and then they keep wid us, and 
 slave-hunters will be 'fraid to touch us.' But I older : I 
 say we 's in lion's den; make haste out. But just den 
 we hear terrible roar — lion hab big voice, not like tiger's 
 growl — and we stare at one anoder wid big eyes, moch 
 frightened. But mouf of de cave very low, only room 
 for lioness and piccaniny to creep through, and big stone 
 lay near. I say, ' Roll stone to mouf of cave, and keep 
 lioness out.' And we were many : we all push ; we get 
 it there just in time, for lioness come fast up passage, 
 and roar and beat on stone wid her paws. But stone 
 had slip into hole, and did not move much. And then 
 we rub sticks — many in cave — till make fire come, and we
 
 228 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 trow burning sticks trough lilly opening at top of stone. 
 That drive honess away for Httle nainute. Den she come 
 back, and we hear lion's pit-pat — heavy, heavy too — and 
 his roar, louder than his mate's, and then little cubs make 
 growls to answer them. Then both push gainst stone : 
 it totter 
 
 " Hi ! Massa Dick, look dere ! " And in a tone of 
 sudden awe he pointed to where a tiger was slowly ad- 
 vancing in the moonlight towards the trees. On it came, 
 a lithe beautiful form, not very large, for it was evidently 
 young, only just out of its cubhood, but full of strength 
 and life. It raised its head above the tall jungle grass, 
 and appeared to inhale the breeze ; then, as if aware that 
 it bore the taint of prey on it, came on again, and paused 
 close to their refuge ; advanced again, and stopped below 
 the tree in which Harold and Lance were perched, uttering 
 a deep and savage growl, raising his head and looking 
 upwards with glaring eyes. The boys shuddered, and 
 held firmly to their branches. 
 
 " Shall we shoot him. Sambo ? " asked Lance, who sat 
 easily on his branch, holding on. 
 
 " No, Massa Lance, let be ; time enough to shoot 
 bymby. He can't get up here nohow ; trees wouldn't 
 bear his weight if he could. Wait a bit, we shall see." 
 
 The tiger walked restlessly round the tree, growling in 
 a low earnest way. That growl had a terrible meaning. 
 
 " I declare, Lance," said Harold, " I would rather die 
 any other death than by becoming a supper for a tiger." 
 
 " It isn't a pleasant idea," said the young sailor, " but 
 I trust Vi^e will escape it yet ; we must sit firmly and 
 hold on well." 
 
 Never was a more dreadful trial to boys' courage than 
 that sitting still in the moonlight, gazing down at that
 
 
 
 
 IN THE FOREST.
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 229 
 
 terrible beast, whose glowing eyes, which shone like 
 rubies, never left his prey ; yet they remained thus for 
 what seemed to them an eternity. 
 
 At last the tiger lay down at the foot of Sambo's tree ; 
 he evidently meant to play a waiting game — he was not 
 in haste. The boys began to despair : if no one came to 
 rescue them, they must ultimately become the food of 
 the tiger. Matters remained thus for more than an hour, 
 when they heard distinctly a rustling in the long grass. 
 The same sound reached the ears of the tiger. He rose, 
 looked round, and seemed to sniff the air in an opposite 
 direction to the tree under which he lay; then in evident 
 alarm sprang forwards in rapid flight. But too late. He 
 had only gone a short distance from the tuft of trees, and 
 gained a more open space, when there rose beside him a 
 monstrous head, a thick dark body, and the amazed and 
 horrified boys saw that a huge snake had attacked him. 
 
 " Boa-python 1 " gasped Sambo, greatly excited. I 
 
 Yes, it was a monstrous python ; they saw it all dis- 
 tinctly in the moonlight. It rose in the air and darted 
 down swiftly on the tiger, which it seized between the 
 shoulders with its huge jaws. The tiger gave a frightful 
 yell and struggled on, dragging its foe with it right out 
 into the open moonlight, where the boys could clearly 
 see this forest tragedy. But the python had suddenly 
 by a strong effort thrown its great coils round the tiger's 
 body, and was crushing him. He rose on his hind legs 
 and tried to shake off the snake, but in vain ; the pressure 
 evidently increased, and the tiger fell to the ground. The 
 python then loosed its jaws and let its head fall again on 
 the tiger's skull. 
 
 It was an awful sight. The clear moonlight enabled 
 them to watch the dreadful shadow of the two forest
 
 230 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 denizens in their struggle. But the tiger had from the 
 first no chance ; the great python had him in a hold he 
 would never loose. The yell of the tiger was only once 
 or twice more heard ; he had no breath to make a sound 
 in that terrible grip, which was breaking his bones as well 
 as suffocating him. 
 
 " Sambo, oh, I am sorry for the tiger," said Dick, feeling 
 sick at the sight and sound; "shall we shoot them both?" 
 
 "No, Massa Dick; stay quiet. Snake will swallow 
 tiger bymby. He quite a young beast ; not too big for 
 python ; but python could swallow ox. Bymby, when 
 he hab swallowed him, he lie gorged — too heavy to move 
 — the7i we shoot him. But now, if Massa Dick shoot, 
 Massa Dick pVaps take tiger's place, for not easy to hit 
 moving snake or kill him — he very much live long; 
 climb tree easy." 
 
 The boys were really sorry for the tiger, but they saw 
 that they had better act only on the defensive, and they 
 remained quiet and watchful, while yonder the slow pro- 
 cess of reducing the python's prey to a pulp, and licking 
 him over with slime, went on; and it was long preparing, 
 that awful feast of the snake. 
 
 They were still watching it, for it drew their gaze with 
 a horrible fascination, when Sambo cried again in a voice 
 of greater alarm than before, " Hi, Massa Dick ! Look 
 than" And Dick, following with his eyes the indication 
 of Sambo's finger, saw a red glow at no great distance 
 not at one point only, but at several. 
 
 " It 's a fire ! " cried Dick, " for the light grows brighter 
 and then fades." 
 
 " Yes, massa ; forest on fire. We must get away at 
 once, massa, and run for our lives." 
 
 " But the python — the wild beasts ? " said Dick.
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 231 
 
 " Him mouth full of tiger. Besides, they not harm us 
 in fire, sar." 
 
 And he called on the two boys in the neighbouring 
 tree to get down instantly. They stood once more in the 
 long grass, and by Sambo's direction ran as swiftly as 
 they could towards the point which appeared still free 
 from flames ; but a forest fire spreads soon and fast ; fire 
 creates wind naturally, and the wind drives on the smoke 
 and flames. The writer has seen from afar these forest 
 fires, caused frequently by the natives burning down the 
 trees to make a spot for cultivation, and they look weird 
 and strange on the hill-sides in the night ; but to be in 
 one ! — of all dangers it is the most awful. And the boys 
 struggling breathlessly on, saw one effect of it in the rush 
 of wild animals in the same direction with themselves ; 
 bringing the danger of being crushed only, however, for 
 tiger and leopard bounded by them, taking no notice of 
 them ; but by-and-bye they heard the tramp of ele- 
 phants. To get out of the way of the terrified brutes 
 they had often to turn aside, and thus lengthen their 
 way to the stream, towards which, Sambo declared, the 
 instinct of the animals was leading them, and the smoke 
 buried them in its poisonous suffocating cloud at times, 
 and the heat scorched them. It was a deadly race for 
 life! 
 
 All too were not equally strong. Lance, clever at 
 climbing, was never a good pedestrian or a swift runner, 
 and by-and-bye he faltered, and could scarcely get on, 
 though luckily their way was downhill. 
 
 " Go ! " he gasped : " go, dear boys ! leave me, and save 
 yourselves." 
 
 For reply Sambo threw him over his shoulder, and the 
 boys cried, " No, Lance, we will never leave you ! " And
 
 232 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 they went on again now, but much less slowly, as Sambo 
 had Lance on his back, and they saw all round them the 
 circle of fire approaching. 
 
 The noise alone was affrighting : the crackling of the 
 flames ; the screams and cries of the birds and the wild 
 creatures caught in it ; and their progress seemed to them 
 even slower than it really was. At length Dick cried out, 
 " The river ! the river ! " and in another moment they 
 had gained the banks of a stream — not the river they 
 knew, but another affluent of the Brahmaputra. On the 
 banks, on the edge of the stream, in the stream itself, 
 they found tigers, leopards, elephants — even a rhinoceros 
 and trembling deer — all huddling together, their natural 
 instinct of prey and enmity extinguished before the face 
 of the mighty element. 
 
 "Git into the water, sars," cried Sambo. "You can 
 swim lilly bit, all of you." And he plunged in, first releas- 
 ing Lance, who gladly plunged into the river. 
 
 It was but a narrow stream, and the flames blew across 
 it at some parts, but only kindled some reeds, that went 
 out soon, on the opposite bank ; the stretch of reeds and 
 bulrushes being happily wide there. 
 
 The boys and Sambo swam down the stream, helped 
 by the current. They were quite ignorant of the direc- 
 tion of their home, and they therefore thought it wisest 
 to take advantage of the assistance thus gained, and, 
 putting themselves on their backs, they floated. Every- 
 where by the river they saw the assembled animals, and 
 heard their various cries ; from the forest also came the 
 distressing sounds of those which had been overtaken by 
 the flames. 
 
 They had been swimming a considerable time. It was 
 now dawn, and they had left the burning forest at some
 
 A DREADFUL ADVENTURE. 233 
 
 distance when Sambo turned to the opposite shore, and 
 they followed him to land. 
 
 He had seen a labourer at work, and divined that 
 a village must be near. They landed breathless and 
 exhausted, and the boys 'flung themselves for rest on the 
 ground, while Sambo went up to the labourer and asked 
 him where they could get help. The man did not under- 
 stand him, but Dick going to his assistance, they ascer- 
 tained that there was a native village not far off, and 
 they at once proceeded. 
 
 It soon came in sight — a really picturesque place on 
 the banks of the stream, which there, in making a curve, 
 ran inland a little way. It was shaded by palms, and 
 there was a small mango tope (or grove) near it. Some 
 cattle were lying down peacefully near the huts, and an 
 Assamese, outside one of them, was talking to a pet 
 monkey. 
 
 The boys and Sambo went up to him, and Dick ex- 
 plained how they came there, and asked if they could 
 get breakfast and a conveyance to the Naga plantation. 
 Breakfast they could have, and the owner of the monkey 
 thought he could get them a bullock-cart to take them 
 back. 
 
 The lads sat down on the grass, therefore, to break- 
 fast with thankful hearts, and partook of milk, chtipatties 
 (bread cakes), and bananas with remarkably good appe- 
 tite. The rich man of the village was a very well-to-do 
 farmer, and on being told of the arrival of some English 
 sahibs escaped from the burning forest, came to them at 
 once, and offered them every assistance. They were at 
 some distance, indeed many miles, from the plantation ; 
 but still they hoped to reach it in time, and to relieve the 
 agonizing anxiety of their friends. 
 
 80
 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 RESTORED TO THEIR FRIENDS. 
 
 HE anxiety and alarm of the Lovelace family 
 may be imagined, when the dinner hour that 
 day arrived, and the boys did not appear. In- 
 quiries were made in the plantation, and it was ascer- 
 tained that they had gone out shooting with Brown. 
 This somewhat allayed their anxiety, and they went to 
 dinner expecting that the young sportsmen would come 
 in before it was over. But still they did not come, and 
 Mr. Lovelace was consulting Mr. Dunmore as to what 
 should be done, and if they had not better set out at 
 once in search of them, when Brown, looking pale and 
 scared, entered the hall. 
 
 " Mr. Brown," exclaimed his employer angrily, " where 
 are the boys } " 
 
 The manager, whose teeth actually chattered with fear, 
 replied that they had gone out shooting with him ; that 
 they had lost their way for a moment ; that he had 
 begged them, as they were rather fatigued, to remain on 
 the spot with the bags while he ascended a little acclivity 
 to see their road ; but that just as he reached the top he 
 heard a shout from them, ran back immediately, and 
 found them gone. He had shouted and called, and 
 searched in every direction, but no trace of them could 
 
 234
 
 RESTORED TO THEIR FRIENDS, 235 
 
 be found, and at length, in despair, he had returned to 
 get assistance. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace was extremely alarmed and very angry. 
 
 *' How dared you take the young gentlemen into those 
 woods," he asked, " so far, that even you scarcely knew 
 your way back .'' You knew 1 had forbidden them to go 
 there." 
 
 " No, sir," said the manager, " I knew nothing of the 
 kind ; and as Mr. Richard is quite master over me, I 
 obeyed his wishes and went out with him shooting. I 
 was not aware that you had forbidden it." 
 
 " Well, there is no time for discussing the matter now," 
 said Mr. Lovelace ; " call the shikarries and the clerks 
 and the servants, as many as we need, and show us the 
 way yourself." 
 
 A good party was soon collected, well armed with guns 
 and torches, to keep off wild beasts ; and they started 
 at once for the forest, dispersing a little, and uttering 
 shouts and cries continually. But to find the lost in a 
 forest is not an easy task ; they had taken from the 
 first a wrong direction (thanks to the manager), and they 
 could find no trace of the boys and Sambo. 
 
 Had he led them right they would have found Karen's 
 body, and farther on two of the bags of game, which the 
 boys had cast away ; indications which would have led 
 them on the right track. But this was not done, and they 
 spent several hours in searching a part of the woods 
 where the boys had never been ; but they were at last 
 skirting along in the right direction, when a cry of "fire!" 
 arose, and they beheld the flames in swift pursuit. Had 
 a spark from one of the torches originated the catastrophe? 
 
 Mr. Lovelace was in despair; still they pushed on in the 
 right direction, but were met by other flames ; and there
 
 236 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 was nothing left but to turn off to the left and get out of 
 the wood as soon as possible. For them there was found 
 an outlet, and they gained the open ground in safety, 
 the wind driving the flames the other way. 
 
 But in safety themselves, Mr. Lovelace and his friend 
 gazed with anguish on the blazing forest which was, 
 they believed, the grave of the three bright bold lads 
 whom they all loved. 
 
 " It is too dreadful ! " groaned Mr. Lovelace. " What 
 will my brother say ? " 
 
 The day dawned on a sad family at the Lovelace 
 house. Beatrice sat weeping bitterly, the boys were like 
 brothers to her ; and it was agony to hear little Algy 
 in the hall calling for " Halald." 
 
 But Mr. Lovelace and Mr. Dunmore had not given up 
 the search entirely : they would enter the forest as soon 
 as the fire ceased, and at least find the bodies or charred 
 remains of the lost boys ; but the fire was not out till 
 sunset of that day, and for some hours the smoke and 
 burning embers would render it impossible for them to 
 penetrate it ; so they waited in profound grief. 
 
 It was near midnight, and the weary inmates of the 
 Lovelace house were about retiring for the night, when 
 loud cries from the avenue startled them, and the gen- 
 tlemen and Beatrice at once rushed out with newly 
 awakened hope. Quite a crowd of shouting Coolies was 
 coming towards the house. They opened as they drew 
 near it, and Mr. Lovelace saw a bullock-cart approaching 
 with four persons in it, whom he at once recognized as 
 the boys and the negro. 
 
 The rapture with which they were received may be 
 imagined. 
 
 " But you are nearly as black as Sambo, Dick ! " cried
 
 RESTORED TO THEIR FRIENDS. 237 
 
 Beatrice, as they stood in the drawing-room after the 
 first excitement was over. 
 
 "I have been smoked," laughed the boy, "so it is not 
 surprising I am a Nocturne in Black, Bee." 
 
 And then they had supper, while IMr. Lovelace paid 
 the bullock driver and sent a present to the village. 
 
 When they had fed, bathed, and had a good night's 
 rest, Mr. Lovelace, his wife, guest, and daughter heard 
 from the boys the story of their terrible adventure. It 
 made a profound impression on the planter, and a few 
 hours afterwards he discussed it gravely with Mr. Dun- 
 more. 
 
 " From the lads' account," he said, " Brown must have 
 taken us in the wrong direction. Is it possible, do ypu 
 think, that he left them in the forest on purpose ? I was 
 struck by his jealous and spiteful tone about Dick, when 
 I reprimanded him for taking the boys into the forest." 
 
 " I have the same impression," said Mr. Dunmore, "and 
 I really think that you would do well to get rid of him. 
 Dick, you see, is a formidable rival to him if he ever 
 hoped to be taken as a partner." 
 
 "Taken as a partner !" echoed Mr. Lovelace; "absurd! 
 he could never have dreamed of such a thing. However, 
 I shall get rid of him. I must give him, according to our 
 agreement, a quarter's notice ; not too long a time for me 
 to find his successor." 
 
 And Mr. Lovelace acted on his resolution, and told 
 Mr. Brown that he should expect him to quit his employ- 
 ment that day three months ; and Mr. Brown went away 
 from that interview with deadly vengeance in his heart. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace spoke seriously to the boys of the danger 
 of their going anywhere without his permission. 
 
 "You have gone through deadly peril," he said, "through
 
 238 U^E THREE BOYS. 
 
 acting without it ; henceforward you are not to shoot 
 anywhere without my leave." 
 
 And they were glad to promise obedience ; they had 
 no longer any wish to enter the unexplored forests. 
 
 About this time Mr. Lovelace received a visit from a 
 native gentleman, named Purander Sinh; a pleasant 
 courteous Oriental, who listened to the story of the boys' 
 adventure with much interest. 
 
 " I have called," he said to Mr. Lovelace, " to ask if you 
 would like to take part in a tiger hunt, which I intend to 
 undertake in a day or two. The other English sahibs — 
 Vivien, Smit', Fitzpat'ick — have accepted my invitation ; 
 will you confer this honour } " 
 
 Mr. Lovelace would be glad to join, and Mr. Dunmore, 
 to whom the invitation was also extended, gladly accepted 
 the native noble's courtesy. 
 
 "He has some splendid elephants," explained Mr. 
 Lovelace afterwards, " and we are to stay at his house, 
 where you will see native life at its best." 
 
 " It is just the opportunity I have desired," said Mr. 
 Dunmore, "and I am grateful to you for procuring it for 
 me. You won't take the boys, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Oh, no; we shall be only guests ourselves. And 
 really, if I could take them I would not — they are always 
 getting into scrapes." 
 
 " Out of which they always succeed in pulling them- 
 selves, however," laughed Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 " Yes, but the pitcher may go too often to the well. I 
 shall leave them to protect the ladies: the trust will quite 
 reconcile them to being left at home." 
 
 Preparations were made for their visit, and it must be 
 acknowledged that the boys, who had actually dreamed 
 of hunting tigers on elephants, were disappointed at being
 
 RESTORED TO THEIR FRIENDS. 239 
 
 left behind. Mr. Lovelace gave them his promised con- 
 solation. 
 
 " We shall leave you boys in charge of the ladies and 
 the plantation," he said to Dick and his friends, " and we 
 shall be quite happy, knowing that they are under your 
 protection. Remember, you are bound to take care of 
 yourselves for their sakes." 
 
 Harold laughed, and said they would do their best 
 and not seek adventures, but that fate might prove too 
 strong for them. He little thought how true his jesting 
 words would prove. 
 
 The boys watched the departure of the hunters with 
 wistful eyes, and, to console themselves, summoned 
 Sambo to tell them the remainder of his adventure in 
 the lion's lair. 
 
 They called Beatrice to hear the story also, and the 
 party gathered under the verandah in the midday heat. 
 Beatrice, reclining in an American chair, slowly fanned 
 herself with a feather-fan ; the boys threw themselves on 
 the matting ; Sambo sat on a low stool, and had to re- 
 peat his story from the beginning to the tottering of the 
 stone. Then he went on : 
 
 "The stone tottered. Piccanlnies made loud cry, 
 when suddenly we hear voice from hole overhead say in 
 our tongue, ' What 's matter down there } ' Everybody 
 cry out, * Lion, lion ! him eat us,' an' we look up and see 
 man's face at lilly hole in top of cave. He say, * Push 
 that stone as hard as you can ; I go to kill lion.' And 
 soon we hear ' bang ! bang ! ' and Hon roar ; then again 
 * bane ! bane ! ' and lioness roar. I think man have hard 
 work outside. But bymby I hear him cry, ' Let go the 
 stone,' and we let go ; but it very hard to put back. Not 
 open enough to leave room for man to get in — only rc^m
 
 240 JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 for small boy to get out. But we little, we keese [squeeze] 
 through, and find brave man outside. He had killed 
 lion and lioness ; but lioness had torn his arm, and he 
 much pale, much hurt. We take him home, and village 
 very glad — love him much — wonder much — and listen 
 when he say that his God save him, and he tell us about 
 the Lord Jesus. Sambo, and all piccaninies, and most of 
 village people then baptized. Sambo's real name John," 
 with an air of pride. 
 
 "Oh, could his deliverer have been Livingstone?" said 
 Harold. And they asked him ; but Sambo could not 
 remember the name of the brave missionary who had 
 fought a lion and a lioness defending their cubs. 
 
 Dick, according to his uncle's instructions, walked 
 round the plantation that afternoon : the Coolies were 
 laughing and talking, and sitting about idly in groups. 
 There was, Dick thought, an unusual air of freedom about 
 them. They rose and salaamed when he passed, but 
 resumed their chattering and laughing when he was gone 
 by. Mr. Brown was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 "Where is Brown sahib?" asked the boy at last of 
 two graver and steadier-looking Coolies. 
 
 " Not know, sahib," was the answer ; " not see Brown 
 sahib since early morning." 
 
 "The manager seems acting on the proverb 'When the 
 cat 's away the mouse may play,' " thought Dick, as he 
 returned to the house.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 BEGIEGED. 
 
 HE family had dined, and the ladles were pro- 
 ceeding across the hall to the verandah in the 
 court of the fountain, when Harold, who was 
 following them, was stopped by Sambo, who laid his 
 hand on his arm, and looked at him with a "considerably 
 scared " expression, as Dick would have said. 
 
 " What is it, Sambo ? " he asked. 
 
 " Massa," said the negro, " me tink Nagas coming 
 here ! " 
 
 "The Nagas ! Why should they come ?" asked Harold, 
 puzzled. 
 
 "Massa, for rob, for murder ! People tell me they very 
 bad men, very cruel." 
 
 And Sambo showed the whites of his eyes in great 
 alarm. 
 
 " Who told you so ? " asked Harold, rather startled. 
 
 "Massa, me see 'em! I walk up hill — you know 
 pretty walk Miss Bee like so much ? When I reach top, 
 I lie down to rest, and look over hill. There I see party 
 of Nagas, with guns, and they were creeping up the side 
 of the hill underneath where I lay. They come softly, 
 and send out scouts like people in war. But they not 
 see me, for I turn on side and roll back down hill." 
 
 Dick had, in search of Harold, now joined them; he 
 heard Sambo's last speech. 
 
 " How far off are they?" he asked. 
 
 241 3x
 
 242 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 "About two miles, sar," said Sambo. "They crossing 
 near where river falls from hill." 
 
 " I will run and tell my aunt," said Dick. 
 
 And hurrying to the verandah, he related Sambo's 
 story to Mrs. Lovelace. She looked very much alarmed. 
 
 "We had better get the people in from the godown, 
 Dick," she said, "and then close all the iron shutters your 
 uncle had put up. We must defend ourselves as well as 
 we can, for our fate would be dreadful if we fell into their 
 hands. Run and see if Brown is in the clerks' depart- 
 ment, my dear boy." 
 
 Dick obeyed her, giving the servants orders first to 
 secure the shutters of the verandah and the upper storey. 
 
 He returned in a few moments, accompanied by one 
 of the clerks — his friend Mr. Prince. 
 
 " Mr. Brown has not been to the office to-day, madam," 
 he said to Mrs. Lovelace. 
 
 " This is alarming news, Mr, Prince," she said. " Is the 
 manager on the plantation ? " 
 
 " Mr. Richard tells me he has not been there to-day, 
 madam. Perhaps he may have had warning of a threat- 
 ened descent of the Nagas, and is gone to summon the 
 military." 
 
 " I hope so," said the lady ; " but we must secure our- 
 selves meantime as well as we can. How many men 
 have we to defend the house ? " 
 
 " There are thirty men altogether," he said, " including 
 ourselves — I mean we clerks, madam — and we three are 
 Englishmen." 
 
 "And we are three English boys," cried Dick, "and 
 Sambo represents Africa." 
 
 His aunt smiled. 
 
 "Well," she said, "see that the shutters are secured, 
 and bring in the people and the cattle to the fountain 
 court."
 
 BESIEGED. 243 
 
 Her orders were obeyed. The dark-skinned mothers 
 and Httle children, with three or four cows and two goats, 
 soon crowded the centre court, where they were in safety, 
 and the servants and Dick pronounced the house fully 
 secured. Why did none of them think of the commis- 
 sariat ? 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace then desired them to get together all the 
 arms and ammunition in the house, bringing Mr. Love- 
 lace's rifles and cartridge-boxes out of his dressing-room 
 herself. 
 
 The household was assembled. The Bengali servants 
 were pale and scared ; the Assamese, who were all upper 
 servants, were cool and collected. 
 
 "Lance," said Mrs. Lovelace, "you have had some 
 training on board ship — you must organize our defence. 
 You will all obey Mr. Regan," she added to the servants 
 and clerks ; "he is an officer in the navy." 
 
 Lance thus placed, as he called it, in command, began 
 to post the garrison. He found they had eight defenders 
 for each side of the house, and two over, one of these 
 being Sambo. He placed four at the two end windows 
 of each side, remaining in command himself, and Dick 
 appearing as his lieutenant. 
 
 The men were scarcely at their posts when a yell from 
 outside announced the approach of the enemy. They 
 came on, an eager savage crowd, but paused in some 
 surprise, Lance thought (he was watching them) ; in front 
 of the house, which they had evidently expected to find 
 open and undefended. 
 
 They stood in consultation for a moment, then ad- 
 vanced towards the verandah and entrance. 
 
 " Fire ! " cried Lance, as they came within range ; and 
 the Nagas received the contents of eight rifles, two of 
 their men falling. 
 
 By this time Dick had summoned eight more defen-
 
 244 ^^ THREE BOYS. 
 
 ders from the back of the square, and opened the two 
 closed windows in front; putting a defensive screen of 
 mattresses and pillows up to them ; and when the Nagas 
 once more advanced, sixteen rifles well aimed thinned 
 their ranks. Sambo and Beatrice loaded for the de- 
 fenders. 
 
 The hillmen drew off with wild cries and execrations, 
 carrying five wounded men back with them. They were 
 now out of range, but the boys could distinguish through 
 a telescope that they were in eager consultation ; and 
 by-and-bye a man was dragged before them, who was, 
 they thought from his dress, an Englishman. 
 
 Of course they could not see his face, or hear what 
 passed between him and the Nagas. That our readers 
 may the better understand our story, we will repeat that 
 which was said. 
 
 " Traitor ! " said the chief, in his own tongue, which the 
 white man spoke fluently, " what is this ? You told us 
 that the sahibs were away — that we should find only 
 women and children in an undefended house. We find 
 an iron fortress, with many men in it who fire well ; we 
 have lost five men. Have you brought us into a trap ? " 
 
 The traitor (he well deserved the name) protested that 
 he was as much surprised as the chief was ; that he had 
 believed the house would be undefended, and that it 
 could be taken by surprise ; that usually ON^ry night the 
 inhabitants slept with open windows, and with their 
 servants unarmed. 
 
 " Some one," he said, " must have carried the news of 
 your intentions to Lovelace sahib, and he has returned 
 from Purander Sinh's, he and his friend who never misses 
 his aim. But it is not my fault ; I hate the sahib, and I 
 swear to you I would, if I could, kill him with my own 
 hand." 
 
 " But what is to be done now .'' " asked the chief. " We
 
 BESIEGED. 245 
 
 cannot get into the house without too great a loss ; must 
 we retreat ? " 
 
 " No, no," cried the traitor. " Have I not told you that 
 there is much treasure there, and a beautiful fair English 
 girl, a fit wife for a chief? No, do not retreat; they 
 cannot get out to seek for help from the soldiers. We 
 can starve them out, even. The godown, and the well 
 which supplies their tank, are outside the house, and they 
 cannot have much food in it. Let us go and attack the 
 house at the back, and prevent them from getting pro- 
 visions." 
 
 " If it were not for the treasure and the damsel," said 
 the chief, " I would burn the house, and go back. Now, 
 listen : if we do not take it in a few hours, I will throw 
 your head into the well ! " 
 
 The traitor shuddered. The chief made a sign of dis- 
 missal, and he was led away. 
 
 Then the leader directed two of his swiftest followers 
 to go for reinforcements. 
 
 Believing that he would meet with no opposition, he 
 had brought only thirty men with him. Now he found 
 he should require a hundred. Meantime, taking the 
 traitor's advice, he marched his followers round to the 
 back of the dwelling. 
 
 Lance, who kept his glass on them, observed this 
 manoeuvre immediately, and at once summoned those 
 whom he had moved to the front to return to their 
 former position. He had scarcely arranged them at the 
 windows before he saw the Nagas defile beside the high 
 wall of the godown, and ten or twelve of them began to 
 attempt to climb it. But they were received with a sharp 
 fire, under which two men fell ; and they drew back. 
 
 The chief resolved now that he would wait till the 
 rest of the tribe, or at least the reinforcements he had 
 sent for, should arrive ;■ and the men drew off, bivouacing
 
 246 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 in the deserted huts of the godown, and taking what they 
 could find in them. 
 
 Thus at about eleven o'clock — for the attack and 
 defence had taken place by moonlight — the enemies 
 appeared to be quiescent, and the boys and Mr. Prince, 
 leaving the two other clerks in charge of the defence, 
 went to tell Mrs. Lovelace the exact state of the case. 
 She heard them with some dismay. 
 
 " It is unfortunate that they have left the front," she 
 said, " for there will not be enough flour and rice for all 
 the people in the house, unless we fetch it from the 
 godown ; and the enclosure will now be under fire, will 
 it not?" 
 
 Mr. Prince said no doubt it would. 
 
 " Some one ought to go and summon the soldiers," 
 said Harold. 
 
 " But they are twenty miles away ! " said Mrs. Love- 
 lace despairingly ; " and no one will he able to get out 
 of the house alive." 
 
 "Dear aunt," said Dick, "we must risk it. I would 
 say let us try to go and ask help at Mr. Vivien's, but the 
 neighbours would be no match for the Nagas. The 
 soldiers MUST come. Let me go for them." 
 
 " You, Dick ! You, who don't know a step of the 
 way ! " she cried. 
 
 " The young sahib is right, Mem Sahib," said the 
 kansamah or butler, respectfully, " we must get help from 
 the soldiers. Richard sahib knows our language as well 
 as the Mem Sahib does : he could pass for a native him- 
 self; and if she would give me leave, I would go with 
 him, and show him the way." 
 
 " But need two of you go ? " she asked, unwilling to 
 risk Dick's safety. 
 
 " Two are better than one," said Narak, unconsciously 
 quoting the Wise Man's proverb : " if one falls, the other
 
 BESIEGED. 247 
 
 goes on. Besides, Master Dick will have greater in- 
 fluence with officer sahibs, who might not believe me, 
 and fear a trap." 
 
 "It is my place to go, aunty," said Dick; "so you 
 must say ' Yes,' at once." 
 
 '• No, Dick," said Harold ; " I will go. You stay at 
 home to defend the house." 
 
 "Nay, sahib," interposed Narak. "Richard sahib 
 speaks our tongue, and that is needful, for he must go 
 disguised, and he must pass for my son, whom I am 
 taking to a service with the English sahibs." 
 
 Mr. Prince now interfered, and volunteered to go him- 
 self; but Dick persisted in its being his duty, and at 
 length his aunt yielded. The truth was, she had small 
 hope of deliverance, and thought that the boy might as 
 well have the chance of escape. 
 
 Narak took Dick away with him for about a quarter 
 of an hour, and then returned, bringing with him an 
 admirably got-up native boy. Dick looked his assumed 
 part well, having black eyes and hair, and a brunette 
 complexion much darkened by sunburn ; Narak had, 
 however, stained his hands and feet. 
 
 Then they peeped from the windows from behind the 
 mattrasses, to see if they could discover a safe place of 
 exit. They found that the sentinels (if any had been 
 placed) must be at some little distance from the house, 
 and that the danger would be, not in leaving the dwell- 
 ing, but the grounds. The adventurers were therefore 
 let out by the front door, and enough of a shutter pushed 
 back to admit of their leaving the verandah ; then they 
 both threw themselves on the ground, by Narak's orders, 
 and crawled thus to the shelter of a near hedge of jessa- 
 mine. Their friends, who watched them from the bar- 
 ricaded windows, breathed more freely when they saw 
 them disappear in the jessamine, for they knew that in
 
 248 
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 it they might get along unseen to the orange groves. 
 The remainder of the night passed without any further 
 attempt on the house by the Nagas. The fact was, they 
 had several wounded to attend to, and being certain of 
 the good aim and courage of the defenders, they deemed 
 it best to wait till their reinforcements came up, and they 
 could attack the house on all sides at once. 
 
 Still, the defenders were compelled to watch in turn, 
 and could only sleep at their posts while their com- 
 panions kept guard. Even the ladies feared to go to 
 bed. Algy alone slept while the voices of their savage 
 enemies were heard without the house.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE DEFENCE. 
 
 HE dawn found the little garrison weary and 
 irritated by the heat of the shut-up house, and 
 their long and anxious watch. Breakfast was 
 got by the servants for all; the defenders taking it at 
 their posts. After breakfast Mrs. Lovelace called Lance 
 to her. 
 
 " The servants tell me," she said, " that there is barely 
 enough rice and flour in the house for the day, and the 
 ammunition is diminishing fast ; yet I think we can wait 
 a day for a supply of that. But don't you think it would 
 be wise to get in some rich and flour from the godown 
 before the attack begins again, which doubtless it will 
 soon ? " 
 
 Lance agreed with her, and said, "I will go to the 
 stores myself" 
 
 " No, my dear lad," said the lady, " one of the men 
 must go ; you cannot be spared from your post. Go 
 and ask who will volunteer." 
 
 Lance obeyed her silently, and gave her message to 
 the defenders. Sambo gave no one time to speak. 
 
 " Massa," he said, " mc not shoot well — not hit Naga : 
 me go for food to godown." 
 
 A murmur of applause followed his words : he could 
 really be best spared of them all. 
 
 He instantly went off to procure baskets, etc., and was 
 
 219 32
 
 2SO WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 soon ready v/ith a huge borer's (pedlar's) basket fastened 
 on his back. 
 
 The back, door was opened enough to allow of his 
 egress, and from the windows the points of eight rifles 
 projected to threaten the besiegers, and defend him on 
 the way. He issued forth, and then ran at full speed to 
 the godown ; but he was pursued by a shower of bullets, 
 which, however, did him no harm. The Nagas during 
 the night had thrown up a bank outside the wall, out of 
 range of the windows, from which they commanded the 
 enclosure. 
 
 Sambo, once in the storehouse of the godown, found 
 that he was safe — the place was fireproof He filled the 
 basket with bags of flour and rice, and other bags — one 
 of coffee, one of maize — to hang on his arms. Then he 
 raised the great borer's basket on his head. Nearly flat 
 when empty, it was now swollen to a great size, the soft 
 basketwork stretching as required. Thus accoutred, the 
 negro issued out into the godown, under a heavy fire 
 from both sides of the enclosure. The distance from the 
 house, however, was not great, and Sambo ran at his best 
 speed. But just as he reached the door, a shot pierced 
 the basket on his head, and he was nearly blinded by a 
 shower of flour and rice. He managed, however, to enter 
 the house, the door of which Benedetta held ajar, and 
 there he breathlessly put his basket down. Much was 
 lost, but there was enough left for their present require- 
 ments. 
 
 The Nagas again assailed the house about noon, but 
 the steady fire of the defenders drove them off once more. 
 They managed, however, to hit one of the Assamese 
 sevants, and the man fell wounded. He was carried to 
 the nearest room, and the ladies did their best to help 
 him. Luckily the ball had passed through the upper 
 part of his shoulder, and had not remained in. It was
 
 THE DEFENCE. 25; 
 
 a mere flesh wound, which they could dress and bind 
 up. Mrs. Lovelace, while in England, had received a 
 little instruction from the St. John's Ambulance Society, 
 and now found her knowledge inestimable. 
 
 There were continuous attacks at short intervals all 
 day ; but only at one point — at the back. Still the 
 defenders of the enclosure dared not leave their posts, 
 and the defence had become a desperate one. 
 
 The second night was troubled and disturbed. Again 
 and again the Nagas endeavoured to break through the 
 defences and get into the enclosure ; again and again 
 they were driven back. Towards morning they drew off, 
 wearied, with at least a dozen wounded : their full rein- 
 forcements had not yet arrived. 
 
 Towards dawn Lance and Harold looked so worn out 
 that Mr. Prince insisted on their lying down and getting 
 some sleep. 
 
 " We have all had rest," he said, " but you two young 
 gentlemen ; you must get some sleep now: we will guard 
 the house carefully while you lie down." 
 
 And the exhausted lads consented to do so, each at his 
 own post near the window he defended. Their heads 
 scarcely touched the soft pillows placed on the floor, 
 before they slumbered profoundly. 
 
 Mr. Prince found, an hour afterwards, that the ammu- 
 nition was getting low. The gunpowder was stored under- 
 ground at the back of the store, in flannel bags placed 
 in iron casks, and the cellar was never entered except by 
 Mr. Lovelace himself. The danger of fetching it in now, 
 and bringing it through the open under fire, may be con- 
 ceived ; yet it must be done. More food would also have 
 to be brought. 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace clasped her hands despairingly when the 
 clerk told her this, and said she left it to Mr. Prince to 
 decide what ought to be done after consulting Lance.
 
 252 WE THREE BO VS. 
 
 The young clerk, looking very pale and anxious, went 
 back to the chamber in which Lance slumbered, Beatrice 
 following him. On entering the room she saw three men 
 with rifles at the window and Lance asleep on the floor 
 looking pale and worn even in slumber. 
 
 " Have they all breakfasted } " she asked Mr. Prince, 
 in a whisper. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Beatrice ; but there is not enough flour or 
 rice for another meal, I am sorry to say. You see, there 
 are many mouths to feed with all those families from the 
 godown in the house, and Sambo lost nearly half his 
 flour and rice by the shot which pierced his basket ; be- 
 sides, we shall be without cartridges very soon. I musi 
 wake Mr. Regan." 
 
 " I will wake him," said Beatrice. She bent down and 
 whispered, " Lance." He sprang up immediately, wide 
 awake — a sailor is easily roused. 
 
 " What 's the matter .? " he asked. 
 
 Mr. Prince explained. 
 
 "We wake you, sir," he said, "by Mrs. Lovelace's 
 desire." And then he told Lance what was required — 
 food and ammunition. 
 
 " But, Lance," said Beatrice, eagerly, " don't you think 
 we might wait, before venturing out again? Succour 
 musi come soon." 
 
 Mr. Prince shook his head. 
 
 " It is a dangerous journey and a long one^ on foot, to 
 the barracks," he said, doubtfully. "It is a chance if 
 they reach it." 
 
 Beatrice turned pale. 
 
 " But we must be helped at last," she said ; " my father 
 will return soon." 
 
 " To be met by the Nagas," said Mr. Prince. " Surely 
 we cannot wish that. The help we require is that of the 
 soldiers."
 
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 THE DEFENCE. 253 
 
 "Yes," said Lance; "and, besides, we might wait for 
 food, but we cannot wait for ammunition." 
 
 " Lance, don't you think that if two went to the go- 
 down, one for food and the other for ammunition, it 
 would save the necessity for another journey till we are 
 relieved ? " asked Beatrice. 
 
 " Yes," he said, doubtfully ; " but we have a wounded 
 man ; Sambo is not much of a shot; and we can scarcely 
 spare two, who might one, or both, be killed. No, Bee ; 
 this time / mean to go : one can't send that poor nigger 
 every time ; and, besides, he is not as fleet of foot as I am." 
 
 "If you would allow me to go " said Mr. Prince. 
 
 " No," decided Lance, " not this time ; you shall go 
 next. And the sooner I 'm off the better, for those 
 rascals are quiet just now. If they see me, you must 
 cover me by firing at them, Prince." 
 
 And Lancelot hurried down to the hall, and had soon 
 " lashed," as he called it, a large box, which he covered 
 with blankets, on his back. 
 
 " I shall fill this with powder and shot," he said, " and 
 these small baskets with coffee and sugar for the ladies. 
 In the other hand I can manage a bag of rice. I must 
 run back for more food when the powder is safe." 
 
 This was said to Benedetta, who was assisting him in 
 his preparations ; but Beatrice overheard it. He was 
 soon ready, and issued from the back door into the en- 
 closure ; but as he darted onward at full speed — for the 
 Nagas instantly fired at him — a light form dashed past 
 him, and on gaining the door of the godown he found 
 Beatrice there before him. 
 
 Lance gave a cry of dismay as he opened the door and 
 pushed her in. 
 
 "Good Heaven, Bee ! " he said, "how came you here ?" 
 
 "By the way you did," she gasped; "but, oh. Lance, 
 that noise ! Lance, am I shot ? "
 
 2^4 IVE THBEE BOYS. 
 
 o^ 
 
 And she gazed down anxiously at her arms and feet. 
 
 " No ; but it is a wonder you were not," he said. "It's 
 a shame of you to have done such a thing : girls have no 
 business to run such a risk." 
 
 " Oh, yes, they have," said Bee, nodding her head at 
 him ; " when they are greatly required. Don't you see 
 that two can do more than one } — that we shall get double 
 at one time, and that one at least is pretty sure to escape 
 being shot, going back, and so will carry food to the rest ? 
 I know you can't spare two at a time from the defence 
 of the house, so I thought I would creep out after you, 
 and prevent your second journey. Why, Lance, I was 
 close behind you all the time!" And she laughed 
 merrily. " But come," she said, " let us make haste and 
 fill our baskets." 
 
 And Lance was surprised to find that she knew far 
 better than he did what was best to take. 
 
 She told him to get up the powder from the under- 
 ground room, while she opened a closet with a key she 
 had secured from her stepfather's room, and filled a 
 basket with lids, full of tin canisters. Then they began 
 packing food, and the quantity of tea, coffee, sugar, 
 biscuits, and potted meats which she put in her pockets 
 or in her baskets was wonderful. She made Lance lift a 
 bag of rice on her head and a bag of flour on her back, 
 "as armour," she said; and she helped him to hft on 
 his back his own heavier burden. When this v/as done 
 they stood for an instant and looked at each other. 
 
 "You won't be able to run with that weight," he 
 declared anxiously. 
 
 "I don't mean to run. I mean to creep back flat 
 against the wall, but as fast as I can ; that is wiser than 
 running through the open as Sambo did," she said. 
 
 Lance agreed that it would be best, and the pair started 
 with their loads, creeping round by the wall as fast as they
 
 THE DEFENCE. 255 
 
 possibly could ; and though the firing began at once, and 
 Beatrice's bag of rice was shot through and she was under 
 a shower of it as she proceeded, they escaped safely, with 
 a larger and better chosen quantity of provisions than 
 Sambo had brought. 
 
 Lance begged Mrs. Lovelace to scold Beatrice for her 
 escapade, but she only smiled, with tears in her eyes. 
 
 " We women must run risks as well as you," she said, 
 "till help comes; the men are all needed at the windows." 
 
 "But can you believe it?" said Lance to Harold after- 
 wards. " There is an iron closet in the godown with 
 cartridges in it, and that girl packed a basket of them 
 without my knowing what she was getting, and carried 
 it on her arm to the house. Imagine ! the rice-bag on her 
 head was hit ; she might have been blown to atoms." 
 
 " I never said, as Dick used to say, that girls were no 
 use in the world," laughed Harold; "if I had I must have 
 contradicted it now. Bee *s a brave girl ! " 
 
 But it seemed likely that this exploit might prove the 
 last with respect to the godown, as the fire of the Nagas on 
 the house, aiming at every window incessantly as they did, 
 rendered the temporary loss of even a single rifle serious. 
 
 The ladies were most useful loading for their defenders, 
 and a new mode of warfare occurred to the Italian nurse. 
 
 The Nagas — whose numbers constantly increased — 
 were waxing impatient, and a serious assault was made 
 on the iron shutters with crowbars and heavy cudgels, in 
 spite of the telling fire of the defenders, another of whom, 
 a Bengali, was wounded. Whilst this assault was taking 
 place, ten or twelve wild hillmcn took advantage of the 
 defenders being drawn nearly all to the same spot, to 
 climb the verandah in hopes of finding an entrance by 
 one of the shuttered and undefended windows ; but Bcne- 
 detta, who was " on guard," as she called it, as soon as 
 she perceived the dark heads rising above the edge of the
 
 256 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 verandah roof, called to the ayah for a kettle of boiling 
 water which she had already prepared on the charcoal- 
 basket, and the moment Naga approached the window, 
 he received the scalding deluge on his head and shoulders. 
 Meantime the ayaJis cries brought Harold and two of 
 the servants to the spot, and the men who had paused, 
 startled by their comrade's fate, received a volley of rifle- 
 shot, and drew off. 
 
 But the situation grew hourly more perilous: the Nagas 
 probably feared the arrival of succours, and meant to 
 sacrifice lives, in order to make a more rapid conquest of 
 the house. 
 
 They had been exceptionally prudent at first, but now 
 they exhibited great bravery, advancing again and again 
 to the assault. They put up ladders also, and many 
 got upon the verandah, but the fire of the defenders 
 made them repeatedly retreat with loss. 
 
 Meantime the besieged waited and watched hour by 
 hour for the arrival of succour, and Beatrice, between 
 tears and smiles — for the brave girl tried all she could to 
 keep up their spirits — assured Lance that she had never 
 before fully sympathized with sister Anne, and with Fati- 
 ma's anxious question, "Do you see anybody coming.''" 
 
 Alas! they had not even false hopes given them; for 
 nothing was to be seen, when any one did venture to 
 peep from a window, but the wild hillmen who gathered 
 round, guarding every side of the house, and firing in- 
 cessantly at the windows. Oh, how endless those mo- 
 ments seemed ! Algy alone was fearless and ignorant of 
 their danger. He was delighted at having the native 
 children to play with, and used to pretend to be fighting 
 against the hillmen himself — threatening the little 
 Assamese with his toy gun, from which at first they fled 
 terrified. To him the noise and general confusion Avas 
 only fun.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 IN THE FOREST. 
 
 ND what, meantime, had become of the seekers 
 for aid ? By many windings and turnings they 
 ehided the notice of the besiegers, and gained 
 the woods in safety. Then they breathed freely for the 
 first time, for they had had many narrow escapes. They 
 had been separated from their foes at one time by the 
 merest screen of leaves ; at another they had been hidden 
 amongst the thick grass close to the Nagas' passing foot- 
 steps. Every inch of the way had been full of peril. 
 
 It was still night when they plunged into the woods ; 
 but even there they heard sounds which told them the 
 Nagas were near them. Most probably, Narak thought, 
 they were guarding the way to the military station, lest 
 any one should run for aid thither. 
 
 " We must avoid them," he said, " by going in the 
 opposite direction — straight to the river, and then 
 doubling back, Richard sahib. It will make it a long 
 way round, but we cannot otherwise escape them." 
 
 And instead of going direct towards the military 
 station, they turned down to the river, an almost opposite 
 direction. 
 
 Their journey through the woods to the stream would 
 have been a nervous one even for the bravest men, for 
 in that direction the wild animals went to drink ; and 
 though in these woods tigers were not rife, there was 
 
 257 3o
 
 258 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 sometimes a stray one shot there, and bears and leopards 
 or panthers were known to still inhabit its depths. 
 
 " The python will not generally attack men," said the 
 Assamese : " that rustle we heard was probably one 
 escaping from our notice. But keep out farther from the 
 trees, Richard sahib, for the leopard often sits on one of 
 the lower boughs, and drops on the unlucky deer or man 
 who passes." 
 
 Richard not only obeyed him, but held his gun in 
 readiness. However, no wild beast appeared till they 
 reached the river, and then they beheld, from a well- 
 chosen hiding-place, the return of a panther, and a little 
 afterwards a bear, from the stream. Richard longed to 
 have a shot at them, but wisely refrained, lest the sound 
 should guide the watching hillmen to them. The river 
 had now to be crossed, in accordance with Narak's 
 plans. 
 
 " Can you swim, sahib ? " asked the Assamese. 
 
 "Yes, I can swim well," was the reply. 
 
 "Then let us swim across, and retrace our route by 
 the other bank. This is a branch of the Kupili, and 
 there are no crocodiles in it." 
 
 They put their clothes in a bundle and tied them on 
 their heads, and then boldly entered the steam. 
 
 The current helped them for a time, but had to be 
 resisted at last, in order to cross to the opposite shore, 
 which they reached rather exhausted. Here they sat 
 down, and Narak drew from a knapsack he wore some 
 sandwiches and wine in a small flask for Dick :' his own 
 food was simply bread and rice-cakes. The Assamese 
 are of the Hindoo faith. Dick was very hungry, and was 
 glad to eat, though it was only just dawn. 
 
 Then they resumed their outer garments, and went on 
 their way. The woods were now alive with sounds of 
 •the caw of crows and rooks, the scream of the parrots,
 
 IN THE FOREST. 259 
 
 and the buzz of insects ; and again Dick saw that strange 
 curling up of the dew in clouds of white mist peculiar 
 to the country. But just then he had no eyes for the 
 beauty of the scenery. They pressed onwards. There 
 were no paths, but Narak seemed to know his way, and 
 guided Dick onwards without fear. Only once they 
 heard a startled animal fly away from them, and Dick 
 caught a glimpse of a retreating rhinoceros. 
 
 And now the sun had gained the meridian, and the 
 closeness in the shut-in portions of the wood was great ; 
 while in the more open the sun poured fiercely down on 
 the heads of the travellers. Dick was parched with 
 thirst, but no spring was near, and they had left the river 
 far behind them. 
 
 It was a fearfully exhausting walk, and they had to 
 rest for half an hour before they could proceed. At last 
 a native village appeared ; but Narak would only linger 
 there just to drink a little milk brought to them by a 
 kind-looking old woman, for which Dick was thankful, 
 and to accept a roll of hard bread, which they ate on 
 their way. The dwellers in this place were unable, had 
 they been willing, to aid the besieged family; so the 
 journeyers had to still press onward. 
 
 At length towards sunset they gained the open country, 
 when suddenly, on turning round the side of a hillock, 
 they found themselves face to face with a party of ten or 
 twelve armed hillmen — "savage-looking fellows," Dick 
 thought them, 
 
 "Whence come you ? " asked one of the band of Narak, 
 crossing and impeding their way, " and who are you .'' " 
 
 " I am of Guahati," said Narak, calmly. " I serve 
 the Chief Commissioner Sahib. This is my son. We 
 are both from Guahati, but have lost our way in the 
 woods. I go to place my son with the English sahibs 
 at the next town."
 
 26o IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " Are you his son ? " asked the Naga, looking search- 
 ingly at Dick. 
 
 Dick was thankful that he could answer in the same 
 tongue, though he felt reluctant to imply an untruth; 
 but he said, " He has adopted me," which was true (for 
 the time), and a sufficient answer to an Oriental. 
 
 " You do not look like an Assamese," said the Naga. " I 
 thought you were not his own son. You must give up 
 your rifle, boy, and you your money, if you have any," 
 he added to Narak. 
 
 Narak placed his purse submissively in the Naga's 
 hand, and Dick, with great reluctance, gave his rifle. 
 
 "Bind their hands," added the chief; and their hands 
 were bound behind their backs. 
 
 Dick gave Narak a look of agony--" What would be- 
 come of their friends } " it asked. But Narak placed his 
 finger on his lips, and said softly, " Patience, my son." 
 
 The Nagas then made them turn and accompany 
 them, and the unlucky travellers had to retrace their 
 steps. As they went on, Narak whispered, " Escape if 
 you can, sahib ; never mind me." 
 
 But Dick shook his head. To leave Narak thus would 
 be to doom him to death. The boy felt very miserable 
 and hopeless, but determined to watch carefully for an 
 opportunity of escape for both. 
 
 They had now re-entered the village just left, and the 
 kind woman who had given Dick milk, made gestures 
 of pity and sympathy when she saw him thus brought 
 back. Meantime the whole population turned out in dis- 
 may at the sight of the formidable hillmen, who would, 
 they well knew, clear their village of its stores of rice, 
 and probably drive off their cattle. 
 
 The Nagas saw the old woman's look, and their leader 
 asked her if she knew who the prisoners were. 
 
 " No," she replied, submissively. " They had passed
 
 IN THE FOREST. 261 
 
 through the village since noon, on their road from Gua- 
 hati to the cantonments ; that was all she knew," 
 
 Narak was glad to have her thus confirm his account, 
 by repeating that which he had told her at noon. Mean- 
 time the Nagas whispered amongst themselves, and then, 
 in a few minutes, a raid was commenced on the village 
 stores, and in the midst of much weeping and wailing 
 from the inhabitants, the Nagas loaded themselves with 
 booty. 
 
 " It is well for you," said the leader to the old woman^ 
 " that we have work on hand which will prevent our 
 taking your cattle. We must come another time for 
 them." 
 
 And with this agreeable promise he turned away, and 
 ordered his men to march on and bring the prisoners. 
 They re-entered the woods, and it became evident to 
 Narak, from the course they took, that their journey was 
 directed to Mr. Lovelace's plantation. 
 
 They stopped, after proceeding for two or three hours, 
 to rest ; but by that time — having taken a shorter cut — 
 they were not very far off Dick's home, to which he 
 seemed about to be returned. But on the banks of the 
 upper portion of the stream they paused, and again 
 consulted together. 
 
 The fact was that they were unwilling to take the 
 prisoners farther. The old village woman, though she 
 had but repeated what Narak had told her, had made 
 them inclined to believe his statement. If Narak and 
 his son were servants of the Chief Commissioner, it 
 would not do to let them be witnesses of the plunder of 
 the tea plantation. One of the hill men proposed shoot- 
 ing them ; but the leader hesitated : he did not know 
 how far his chief meant to defy the English, and he did 
 not wish to go beyond his (the chief's) will. It was 
 doubtless, Dick thought afterwards, Divine Providence
 
 262 IPE THREE BOYS. 
 
 that interfered in their behalf, and caused the Nagas to 
 refrain from causeless bloodshed. Their consultation 
 ended, the party dividing, nine men went on across the 
 river. Three remained with the captives, whom they 
 desired to sit down under the trees, while they produced 
 their pipes, and seating themselves near Narak and 
 Dick, began to smoke at their ease. By-and-bye one 
 of them got up and strolled into the thicket : he came 
 back with flashing eyes, and spoke eagerly to his com- 
 panions. They nodded their reply. 
 
 Meantime poor Dick, miserable and disappointed as 
 he was, fell into a heavy sleep, his head falling on Narak's 
 shoulder. He had had no sleep the previous night, and 
 had been on his feet very nearly twenty-four hours. The 
 boy was thoroughly exhausted : he slept for some hours, 
 the kind-hearted servant not attempting to disturb him 
 till he was compelled. Then he whispered in the lad's 
 ear, 
 
 " Wake up, Richard sahib ! " 
 
 And the boy gradually and with difficulty roused him- 
 self " What is it, Narak ? " he asked. 
 
 " We are alone, sahib. The Nagas have found out that 
 there is a rhinoceros in the wood, and they are gone to 
 try to shoot it. I heard all they said ; the one who went 
 away first spied it out in the wood. They knew that it 
 would go down to the river to drink, and they are gone 
 to shoot it if possible ; but they will not be back soon — 
 that game is not easily killed," with a chuckle. " You 
 know, sahib, the horn is very sacred and of great virtue, 
 so naturally they desire to get it. They thought us both 
 asleep. Our hands are tied, and they put a string from 
 the tree round my ankle, but I have managed to get it 
 off Would you be afraid to try to escape ? You know, 
 if they catch us again they will shoot us." 
 
 "Oh, no, we must risk it," exclaimed Dick, rising: "only
 
 IN THE FOREST. 263 
 
 think what peril our friends are in ! Have I slept very- 
 long ? " 
 
 " Yes, sahib, it is past midnight," said Narak ; " you 
 have slept for four hours, I believe. But I had no cause 
 to wake you before." 
 
 Their hands were still bound, but that did not hinder 
 them from walking, and they hastened to plunge into the 
 wood again. But their progress, which Narak guided in 
 a contrary direction to that which they had traversed 
 originally, was very slow. They needed their hands 
 sorely to push aside the underwood, and were sometimes 
 obliged to lie flat and wriggle like snakes under obstruc- 
 tions they could not otherwise get through, to their own 
 great peril from cobras and other venomous serpents. 
 Still they made way, and at last Narak ventured to pause, 
 and said, 
 
 " If you will stand in front, sahib, I will try to unfasten 
 your hands with my teeth and toes." 
 
 Our readers must remember that the Hindoos can use 
 their feet as we do our hands, when they like ; the writer 
 has often seen them pick up things from the floor with 
 their toes. And Narak, whose feet had never been de- 
 formed by tight boots, proved equal to the occasion. 
 Dick bent down or rose up as he was directed ; and 
 finally the knot was untied and the string fell off. Dick 
 then speedily released his guide's hands also. How 
 thankful they were for their recovered power ! But they 
 were going — purposely — miles out of their way to elude 
 their probable pursuers, doubling and winding always 
 down into the valley. 
 
 Occasionally they fancied that they heard sounds of 
 pursuit, and then hurried on again with redoubled speed, 
 but the pursuers did not follow their direction long. 
 
 They at last found themselves in comparative safety, 
 but far away (even farther than they had been when they
 
 264 IV-E THREE BOYS. 
 
 started), from the barracks. They had reached, however, 
 human habitations : some pretty mud huts, overshadowed 
 by banana-trees, in the valley ; here, as the day was now 
 advanced, they asked hospitality, informing the frightened 
 people, at the same time, of the near neighbourhood of 
 the Nagas. Of course the peasants were instantly as 
 anxious to call in military aid as Dick was, and one of 
 the men offered, as soon as they had had some much- 
 needed food, to conduct them by the nearest way to the 
 cantonments. His offer was gladly accepted, and once 
 more they set out; avoiding, this time, the proximity of 
 the woods. 
 
 It was long past noon when they started, and Dick's 
 impatience became extreme ; but as no horse, or other 
 conveyance, could be procured at the huts, they had still 
 to press on, on foot. His feet were so swollen now that 
 he could hardly walk. Oh, those long weary miles ! 
 How long afterwards he remembered them ! 
 
 They began at last gradually to ascend the hills ; their 
 road was bordered once more by jungle, and not quite 
 without peril, for the moon had again risen ; moreover, 
 both were so weary that they made but slow progress. 
 It was long past midnight before they saw the grey can- 
 tonments of the British gleaming in the silvery light. 
 The sight gave them strength to hasten a little, but the 
 sentinel's warning, " Who goes there .'' " was answered 
 only by Dick's staggering forward and falling fainting 
 at his feet.
 
 ;:«tipMy": 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 RELIEVED. 
 
 ^"^^J HE besieged could get no sleep the second night 
 h^ ?^ of the attack ; the assaults were kept up con- 
 ^^=^ tinually. The Nagas had evidently been still 
 further reinforced, and could attack the house on all sides. 
 The defenders had to scatter as much as possible, and 
 Beatrice and Mrs. Lovelace learned to fire a rifle, resting 
 it on the window-sill, in order to make two more active 
 belligerents, while Benedetta and the ayaJi loaded for 
 them ; but they had not a minute's rest. 
 
 The aching eyes of the unlucky family greeted thank- 
 fully the first peep of day, and Beatrice had just said, 
 " Here comes the blessed daylight," when the sound of 
 approaching horsemen broke on their ears. The noise 
 of galloping was followed by a trumpet call — "to charge," 
 if they could have understood it — and the next moment 
 Beatrice cried from her loophole, 
 
 " The soldiers ! the cavalry ! We are saved 1 " 
 But the Nagas were not to be easily driven off their 
 prey ; they were as brave as any men, and they faced the 
 cavalry with wonderful courage, pouring on them a fusillade 
 which emptied two or three saddles. But the weight and 
 coolness of the English horsemen told : they rode over 
 the hill tribe, and cut them down on all sides. It was 
 an awful scene on which the lookers-on from the house 
 
 and her mother soon t 
 2G5 34 
 
 v.ir.dows gazed. Beatrice and her mother soon turned
 
 266 JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 away from it, but the "garrison," as they called themselves, 
 aided their friends by firing incessantly on the rear of the 
 hillmen; and the cheer was mutual when at last the chief 
 called off his defeated tribe, and, still fighting, they re- 
 treated towards the upper part of the hill. 
 
 The soldiers did not pursue them very far: the tribe 
 would have to receive a lesson hereafter, but just thcsn the 
 English were too few for pursuit. The trumpets sounded 
 the asseniblee, the doors of the house were at once opened, 
 and the wounded men brought in. One trooper had been 
 killed, three wounded. They were taken into Mr. Love- 
 lace's study and placed upon extemporized beds, while 
 their doctor, who had ridden to the fray with them, 
 attended to them at once, and afterwards to the wounded 
 servants. The fallen Nagas who remained on the ground 
 were taken to the offices of the household, and cared for, 
 by the kindly doctor, after the soldiers and servants. 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace and Beatrice meantime had met the 
 officers in the hall, and after a few words of warm thanks, 
 asked anxiously after Dick, whom they did not see, 
 
 " He is safe in bed at the barracks," replied Captain 
 Sefton. " The poor lad was utterly exhausted : he had 
 walked, with only a few hours' sleep, ever since he left 
 you, and we insisted on his remaining in bed till we 
 return. The Assamese gives a wonderful account of 
 their hair-breadth escapes — they were actually made 
 prisoners by the Nagas, but they got away. Your 
 nephew is a young hero." 
 
 Harold, Lance, and the clerks soon made their appear- 
 ance also, and received no little praise from the soldiers 
 for their gallant defence of the house. All had much to 
 tell, but they were glad to be interrupted at last by a 
 summons to " tiffin." The Nagas had left two or three 
 roosters behind them, and these the servants had sacri- 
 ficed to the great need of the family, as well as a sheep.
 
 RELIEVED. 267 
 
 Every one enjoyed a good meal, and little Algy was 
 eloquent in his delight at getting "nice fowl" again to 
 eat, and at everybody looking " comfy," as he called it ; 
 though he asked eagerly why Dick didn't " turn." 
 
 " He will be here very soon," laughed Captain Sefton, 
 "and then he will have a nice story to tell you, little 
 man." 
 
 Tiffin was not over when a sound of confused cries and 
 advancing footsteps reached them. Mrs. Lovelace looked 
 up startled, and Captain Sefton and his lieutenant hastily 
 rose. 
 
 " There is something wrong," said the former. " The 
 ladies will excuse us." And the officers hurried from the 
 room, followed by Lance and Harold. 
 
 In the hall they saw a crowd of Coolies carrying in a 
 stretcher of boughs, on which lay a blood-stained form. 
 Beside it walked Dick ; following it was Mr. Vivien, 
 accompanied by some of his friends the planters. Lance 
 rushed forward — his pale face and questioning eyes asked 
 the meaning of what he saw. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Dunmore, sadly, "we came across a 
 body of Nagas, and poor Mr. Lovelace is shot." 
 
 They bore the wounded gentleman into the drawing- 
 room, and summoned Dr. Linton, while Mr. Dunmore 
 proceeded to break the sad news to i\Irs. Lovelace 
 and her daughter. They did not wait to hear his full 
 explanation, but rushed off immediately to the beloved 
 sufferer. We will tell our readers how this evil chance 
 happened. 
 
 The Coolies had fled at once, as Mr. Prince said they 
 would, when they heard of the descent of the hillmen, 
 and had scattered for hiding and shelter in various 
 directions. One of them, however, had at last summoned 
 courage to go into the open, and try to find his master 
 at the house of the Nabob. He had reached it only that
 
 268 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 morning, and Mr, Lovelace had been frantic at his long- 
 delayed news. 
 
 He had instantly ordered his horses and servants. Mr. 
 Smith had sent off to give the alarm to his nearest 
 neighbours, and resolving to seek the aid of the military 
 at once, had proposed their first riding to the canton- 
 ments. But Mr. Lovelace would not hear of such delay: 
 he must g/3 himself immediately to share the danger of 
 his family. The gentlemen, finding they could not per- 
 suade him to more prudent measures, would not let him 
 go alone. They mustered their shikarries ; the native 
 noble lent his armed retainers ; and the little party set off 
 on their heroic attempt at rescue. They reached the 
 neighbourhood of the house only to see the Nagas re- 
 treating ; but coming across the body still in the rear, 
 Mr. Lovelace had dashed forward and fired at them. His 
 shot was returned with fatal effect, and he fell. The 
 Nagas hurried their retreat, and soon afterwards some of 
 the English cavalrymen returning from the pursuit came 
 up. The soldiers at once made a bier of boughs, covered 
 it with cloaks, and sadly bore the wounded gentleman to 
 his home. 
 
 The scene in the drawing-room was most distressing. 
 The wife and daughter kneeled by the dying man — for 
 the doctor had declared the wound mortal — and bathed 
 his hands with their tears. Dick, who had — in spite of 
 Captain Sefton's orders — soon rested sufficiently, had 
 borrowed two horses of the sympathizing young officers, 
 and with Narak and an escort of two soldiers, had rid- 
 den as fast as he could to be in time for the encounter 
 he knew would shortly take place, but he came too late. 
 
 At the entrance to the avenue he met the mournful 
 procession bearing his wounded uncle, and, in bitter sor- 
 row, he alighted, and walked beside him to the house. 
 The poor boy now wept as passionately as his aunt and
 
 RELIEVED. 
 
 269 
 
 Beatrice, while Harold and Lance stood close beside him 
 in silent sympathy. The officers, Mr. Dunmore, Mr. 
 Smith, and Mr. Vivien, stood in a mournful group at the 
 window. 
 
 Mr. Lovelace was conscious ; his eyes were fixed ten- 
 derly on his wife, but he had not yet spoken. Suddenly, 
 in a hoarse tone — alas ! how unlike his usual pleasant 
 voice — he said, " Dick." 
 
 The weeping boy bent over him. 
 
 " Be a son to " Mr. Lovelace gasped feebly, point- 
 ing to his wife. 
 
 " I will, I will ! " sobbed the boy. 
 
 There was a lengthened silence ; then once more he 
 spoke. " God bless you ! " he said, and sighed deeply. 
 
 The doctor took his hand ; again silence followed, 
 broken only by the sobs of the women. Mr. Lovelace 
 had closed his eyes. Once more he opened them, looked 
 at his wife, and smiled ; then the light of life passed out 
 of them, with one more long sigh. 
 
 Dr. Linton laid down the hand he was holding. 
 
 " It is all over," he said ; " he is dead."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 PROSPECTS MARRED. 
 
 HE grief of the family and friends of Mr. Love- 
 lace for his untimely end was profound and 
 sincere. He had been so good and kind to 
 everybody. Dick loved him as a father, and sorrowed for 
 him as one, and the boys sympathized with him deeply. 
 
 The pleasant house, full before of young voices and 
 happy laughter, was now hushed and quiet. Even wee 
 Algy knew something sad had happened, played quietly, 
 and looked sorrowful. It was the first time the three 
 boys had coms across the grim spectre, whose presence 
 they could scarcely yet realize, and they were awed, and 
 full of thought. Mr. Dunmore took the opportunity of 
 speaking to them of that future life, of which boys think 
 too little, telling them that Mr. Lovelace had gone to a 
 happier and brighter home. But it is very hard for youth 
 to realize the Christian's hope. Life here seems enough 
 when it is so new and bright. 
 
 The funeral took place the next morning early. They 
 laid Mr. Lovelace in the little cemetery round the iron 
 church, where the missionary, whom he had supported 
 by every means in his power, ministered ; and the sor- 
 rowing Beatrice laid a large wreath of calamata flowers 
 and stephanotis on his grave. 
 
 Then they returned to the house that was to them deso- 
 late. Mr. Lovelace left a will ; but it had been made before 
 
 270
 
 PROSPECTS MARRED. 271 
 
 Dick joined him. Another, about which he had in- 
 structed his lawyer at Calcutta after their shipwreck (in 
 which he lost a second one made in England), was not 
 signed. He had deferred it too late ! Consequently, 
 Dick's name did not appear in it. The planter left his 
 fortune to his wife, except a very handsome legacy to his 
 brother. Dr. Lovelace ; the plantation he willed should be 
 sold : he thought it impossible that a lady could manage 
 it. Thus Dick's prospects were suddenly blighted, and 
 he would have to return home. Certainly this added to 
 the lad's sorrow, though he felt ashamed to own even to 
 himself that he could have selfish regrets at such a time. 
 
 Meantime, while the women and his friend mourned 
 sincerely for the generous kindly man who had been so 
 suddenly taken from them, the Chief Commissioner had 
 gathered a sufficient force to chastise the Naga tribe 
 smartly. 
 
 The Nagas had to make a humble submission, and at 
 an interview between their defeated chief and the colonel 
 in command, a curious fact was discovered. The Naga 
 chief, on a sum in compensation for mischief done being 
 demanded of him, with some dignity declared that he had 
 been ill used; that Mr. Lovelace's agent had encroached 
 largely on the land of the tribe, and that Mr. Lovelace had 
 refused (with insults) to pay for the portion taken. Here 
 Mr. Dunmore, who was at the conference, interfered. He 
 said he knew that Mr. Lovelace had been displeased 
 with his agent for having taken the land, and that he 
 believed it had been paid for. Mr. Lovelace's nephew 
 Richard would know, however, as well as his manager. 
 Dick was therefore sent for at once, and also Mr. Brown, 
 and the conference was adjourned to the next day. 
 
 The next day brought Richard, but not Brown, who 
 could not be found. Dick, however, at once asserted 
 that his uncle had desired Brown to find out from the
 
 272 JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Naga chief what sum he required for the land, "and 
 Brown did go up the hills to find out," added Dick, " for 
 I remember I wanted to go with him, but my uncle would 
 not let me. Brown, when he came back, named ' a great 
 sum,' my uncle said ; however, to keep peace and live in 
 safety, as he told me, he sent Brown up with the money, 
 and he brought the chief's receipt. It will be found in 
 my uncle's desk." 
 
 The chief listened to the translation of Dick's speech 
 with a heavy frown. He had lost all this money, for he 
 declared (truly) that Brown had come to meet him at a 
 spot hxed on by both, near the plantation ; that he had 
 declared Mr. Lovelace refused to pay anything for the 
 land, and had desired him to tell the chief so, with insults 
 which he (Brown) dared not repeat. That when, enraged, 
 the chief vowed vengeance, Brown gave him his hand, 
 and told him that he would help him to get it — that he, 
 too, had been injured by Lovelace sahib, and that they 
 w^ould make him suffer for it. 
 
 "He told me," the chief said, "that he had always 
 expected ; had been almost promised, a partnership with 
 Lovelace sahib, but that suddenly he had brought back 
 a boy to put in his place, and he would be avenged. It 
 was he who told me of the treasure of gold and silver 
 and jewels in the sahib's house, and persuaded me to go 
 and take it while the sahib was away, and only women and 
 ^oys at home. But we found the boys and women could 
 keep us at bay till the soldiers came to slay us!" viciously. 
 
 This speech was translated to Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 "What a villain!" he said, "Tell the chief that the 
 money was sent to him by Brown. Brown must have 
 kept if for himself, and probably hoped that if the house 
 were taken, he could secure the receipt ; or that if the 
 chief were shot on account of his raid, it would answer 
 the same end — that is, conceal his theft."
 
 PROSPECTS MARRED. 273 
 
 The chief expressed a deadly animosity against this 
 man, who had deceived and robbed him, and regret at 
 the death of Mr. Lovelace. 
 
 The matter was settled by a promise of payment for 
 the land at a quarter of the price demanded ; and the 
 chief was glad to accept this compromise, and to enter 
 into a treaty with the English colonel, solemnly pledging 
 himself never again to molest the Anglo-Indian settlers. 
 
 It was the second day after the settlement of the Naga 
 difficulty. They were sitting under the verandah after 
 dinner, talking of the past and of the future, when a 
 servant appeared and announced that the Naga chief 
 had sent a basket containing a gift for Mrs. Lovelace, 
 which he begged her to accept, with the usual high-flown 
 Oriental compliments. The lady desired that the offer- 
 ing might be brought in, and begged Dick to open it. 
 He did so, and let it fall with a cry of horror : from it 
 rolled, nearly to Mrs. Lovelace's feet — a ghastly head ! 
 She screamed, and rose. Beatrice flew to her side ; Mr. 
 Dunmore bent over the dreadful gift. 
 
 " It is the head of Brown the manager," he said ; " this 
 is the Nagas' vengeance 1" 
 
 
 35
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 NEMESIS. 
 
 HERE came to Lance from Calcutta a letter 
 from his father, summoning him to join him at 
 once. There came also another for Mr. Dun- 
 more, telling him that Captain Elliot had succeeded in 
 buying him a new yacht, called the Flying Fish, and that 
 it had started for Calcutta. 
 
 It became absolutely imperative on Lance to say fare- 
 well to his friends, and Mr. Dunmore proposed to Mrs. 
 Lovelace that they should all go to Calcutta together. 
 
 Mr. Vivien had confided to Mrs. Lovelace the secret 
 of his love for Beatrice, and his intention to go to Eng- 
 land by-and-bye and ask her to become his wife : he 
 offered now to oversee the March tea-gathering on the 
 Lovelace plantation himself, if the estate were not sold 
 previously, which was scarcely likely ; therefore Mrs. 
 Lovelace was free to return to England. 
 
 Once more they sailed down the grand Brahmaputra ; 
 once more they landed at Calcutta. They found that 
 the Conqueror, Captain Regan's ship, had arrived, and 
 Lance was soon shaking hands with his father. 
 
 Captain Regan told Mr. Dunmore that he had been 
 of course greatly delighted at learning that Lance was 
 still living, and that he did not think the loss of time would 
 signify to him. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore spoke warmly of Lance, telling his father 
 of the skill and courage with which he had defended Mr^ 
 
 274
 
 NEMESIS. 275 
 
 Lovelace's house, an account of which he had sent to 
 the Times, chiefly for the boy's sake ; therefore Lance 
 had probably gained in reputation what he might have 
 lost in sea time. 
 
 Harold and Dick parted from the young midshipman 
 with great regret. 
 
 " The threefold cord is broken," said Dick, sorrowfully. 
 " When shall we three meet again ? " 
 
 " That question was sent to me once as a valentine," 
 laughed Lance. " Two donkeys mournfully stared at me 
 from the page, and under them were the words, ' When 
 shall we three meet again ? ' " 
 
 The boys laughed. 
 
 " Donkeys or no donkeys," said Dick, " I hope it will 
 be soon." 
 
 The new yacht arrived in due time at Calcutta, and 
 the same party (with two omissions, alas !) embarked in 
 her for England. The voyage was quite without adven- 
 tures of any kind, and they all landed safely in their own 
 country. 
 
 The Lovelaces proceeded to Pengarven ; they intended 
 to stay for a year at least with the doctor's family, and 
 Mr. Dunmore decided also to go to his home in Corn- 
 wall. It was a pretty and picturesque place, standing at 
 about half a mile from the sea, and surrounded by charm- 
 ing grounds. Thus a few miles only would separate 
 Harold from his uncle. 
 
 " I think, Harold," said his friend, on the evening of 
 their arrival there, " I ought to write and tell Sir Jasper 
 that you are here, and ask if you may remain with me." 
 
 "As you like and think best," said Harold ; "but am 
 I not in your way now, Mr. Dunmore ? " 
 
 " In my way, my dear boy ? I don't know what I 
 should do without you ! Besides, you are Algy's elder 
 brother, you know."
 
 276 TVE THREE BO VS. 
 
 " Do you think," asked Harold, shyly, " that Mr. Giles 
 Dunmore will ever attempt anything against Algy 
 
 again 
 
 "Ko, I think not; he failed in both cases egregiously, 
 you know. That was enough to discourage him. And 
 in England life is safer than in Sicily. However, we will 
 take good care of the poor child." 
 
 ]\Ir. Dunmore wrote to Sir Jasper about his nephew, 
 and in due time received his reply. He was happy to 
 let Harold continue wi:h Mr. Dunmore ; but he declined 
 to comply with that gentleman's request that he might 
 provide a tutor for the lad. He (Sir Jasper) considered 
 that Harold was quite educated enough. 
 
 " My nephew," he wrote, " will never need to pass an 
 examination, and that (as I understand) is now the sole 
 object of education. Harold is a good arithmetician, 
 writes a good letter — I have had two excellent ones from 
 him since he accompanied you to India, — and has much 
 general knowledge — enough for his future position. 
 Moreover, I am quite unable to pay anything for him. 
 I can offer him a home and board here ; but I cannot 
 pay for him elsewhere." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore laughed and frowned over this letter. 
 He was disgusted yet amused by the miser's excuses. 
 However, he determined that Harold should not suffer 
 from his uncle's avarice. He therefore informed the boy 
 that he had engaged the curate of his parish, a young 
 man, who had taken high honours at Oxford, to give him 
 daily lessons. Harold would have to go to Mr. Welsh's 
 lodgings for them ; but the village was only a mile from 
 the Rockery (Mr. Dunmore's place). Harold was warm 
 in his thanks to this kindest friend. He had longed for 
 better teaching ; now he would have it. And he set out 
 for the first time to his tutor's with a glad heart. 
 
 Meantime a career had to be found for Dick by his
 
 NEMESIS. 277 
 
 aunt, who had been most anxious to do all in her power 
 to start him in one. 
 
 Her influence with a great mercantile firm in London 
 secured at last for poor Dick a stool in their office, and 
 by-and-bye, perhaps. Dr. Lovelace and herself would 
 be able to purchase a share of the business for him. The 
 lad felt miserable, however, at the idea of being- bound 
 to an office in the city. What a contrast it was to the 
 delightful life of excitement and change he had recently 
 enjoyed! He almost wished that he had never left Eng- 
 land with his uncle. But Dick was a boy who possessed 
 great strength of character, and a strong though simple 
 sense of duty. " He had to do it," he said ; and he did 
 it — that is, he went cheerfully to London, and did his 
 best in the office when he reached it. His father had 
 found a home for him in the house of a surgeon's widow, 
 who took boarders. She had some young sons and 
 daughters, who were musical and pleasant, and Dick 
 had no cause to complain of lack of comfort. But. oh, it 
 was so dull ! Often the tigers and panthers of Assam, 
 or the picturesque brigands of Sicily, came between his 
 thoughts and the line of figures he was totting up. But 
 he put the remembrance resolutely aside. It was his duty 
 to think of something else, and Dick would do his duty 
 at all costs. 
 
 Harold spent every day till three o'clock with his tutor, 
 then he generally rode with Mr. Dunmore and Algy, for 
 whom his guardian had bought a Shetland pony, and 
 who promised to prove a good horseman. 
 
 Harold was still devotedly fond of his little charge, 
 and Algy thought there never was any one so grand as 
 " Halald." He would run after the lad incessantly while 
 he was at home, and often begged to walk with him to 
 the village, with Sambo to escort him back, Mr. Dun- 
 more having brought the negro home with him.
 
 278 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Nothing had been heard of Algy's enemy Giles. Mr. 
 Dunmore had only mentioned him twice : once when 
 Harold questioned him, and the second time when he 
 saw the announcement of his own return to the Rockery 
 in the Morning Post, Then he said pettishly, 
 
 " I wish these gossiping papers would let one alone ! 
 I did not want Giles to know that we were here." 
 
 And Harold thought he looked anxious for some days 
 afterwards. However, nothing followed the announce- 
 ment, and his anxiety appeared to pass away. 
 
 " Halald, Halald ! " cried Algy, one hot June day ; 
 "won't you tum into the hay-field with me and make 
 heaps? Oh, do come, Halald ! " 
 
 But Harold, who had joined a band of cricketers, was 
 engaged that afternoon to play with them on the com- 
 mon ; so he was obliged to free himself from little Algy's 
 clinging hands, and run off. Algy was inclined at first 
 to cry ; but very soon the delight of tossing the hay on 
 his little pitchfork more than consoled him. He made 
 a great "heap " as he called the haycock he had formed, 
 and then amused himself by throwing hay over Bene- 
 detta, who was seated on a haycock close to where he 
 played ; but this last amusement soon lost its charm of 
 teazing, because Benedetta — overpowered by the heat, 
 and soothed by the " swish ! swish ! " of the scythes — had 
 fallen fast asleep over her knitting, and was cross when 
 he tried to wake her. It suddenly occurred to Algy at 
 last that it would be " fun " to go and meet Harold : the 
 lane outside the hay-field led to the common: why 
 should he not go ? He shook Benedetta, and said, 
 
 " I 'm doing to meet Halald, Bena." 
 
 But she only gave a grunt in reply. Algy, however, 
 thought it quite sufficient consent, and set off at once, 
 running down the lane as fast as his little feet would 
 carry him.
 
 NEMESIS. 279 
 
 When Bena woke and did not see the child, she called 
 loudly for him, and receiving no answer, w^ent to look 
 for him; but she could not find him in the hay-field. 
 Greatly alarmed, she ran to ask the haymakers, who were 
 cutting the grass at the other end of the large meadow, 
 if they had seen the child, but they had not noticed him 
 for a lone time. Then Benedetta went out to look for 
 him in the lane ; and bethinking her that Algy might 
 have gone after Mr. Harold, she ran towards the common. 
 
 The common was a very large one, and the cricketers 
 were at the farthest end of it ; but Benedetta crossed it 
 at full speed, and perceiving Harold, hurried up to him, 
 and asked breathlessly, 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Harold, have you seen the child ?" 
 
 Harold had not, and was greatly startled at the news 
 of Algy's disappearance ; he instantly gave up his place 
 in the game to another lad, and hurried back with Bene- 
 detta. As they reached the edge of the common he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Hallo ! the gipsies' van and tents, which were here 
 when I passed before, are gone." 
 
 And he increased his speed to the house, leaving Bene- 
 detta to follow, and running his swiftest. Mr. Dunmore 
 was greatly distressed at his news. 
 
 " The gipsies must be instantly followed," he said ; "we 
 will pursue them at once, Harold — order our horses." 
 
 And they succeeded in a couple of hours in overtaking 
 the gipsies, who stopped at their request and permitted 
 them to search the van. But no Algy was there, and the 
 wanderers declared that they had not seen him. 
 
 "Harold," said Mr. Dunmore, as they rode,disappointed, 
 back, "we must employ the police. It is very unpleasant 
 to drag one's family name into public, but I must frustrate 
 this infamous scheme of Giles — I firmly believe this is 
 again his doing. We must do it for Algy's sake. I will
 
 28o WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 ride on into the town and set the police to work, and 
 I will telegraph for a good detective from London. You 
 must go home, dear lad, and do your best to get some 
 clue to his fate there." 
 
 But no clue to the place where the lost child was could 
 be found, and Mr. Dunmore himself started for London 
 that night. He would see Giles himself, and tax him 
 with the abduction of Algernon. 
 
 But on reaching Mr. Giles Dunmore's chambers in the 
 Albany in the early morning, he found that his cousin 
 was not in England. The servant asserted that his 
 master had left town for Paris the night before. 
 "Are you sure of that?" asked Mr. Dunmore. 
 " Quite sure, sir, for I saw him off by the train." 
 " Had he any one with him .'' " 
 " No, sir, no one." 
 
 " Can you give me his address in Paris ? " 
 The servant could, and produced it at once. It was at 
 an apartment in the Elysees. 
 
 " You are certain," repeated Mr. Dunmore, " that he 
 had not a child with him .? " 
 
 "Yes, sir ; I am certain he had not." 
 " I am in search of little Sir Algernon Dunmore, who 
 has been taken away from his home," said Mr. Dunmore. 
 " I would give a hundred pounds for any tidings of him." 
 " I would gladly give them to you, sir, if I could, then," 
 replied the man, smiling ; " but I have seen nothing of 
 the young gentleman." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore saw and engaged a London detective, 
 then went to the station and started by the next mail train 
 to Paris. He was at his cousin's apartment early the 
 next morning, and found Giles at breakfast. 
 
 " So," said Giles, rising and holding out his hand, "you 
 are returned from your voyage. I am glad to see you 
 again. Sit down and have some breakfast."
 
 NEMESIS. 281 
 
 "No," said Mr. Dunmore, not taking his cousin's hand; 
 " I come not as a friend, but on business. Giles, what 
 have you done with Algernon ? " 
 
 " With Algernon ? I have never seen the brat. What 
 do you mean ? " asked Giles, flushing darkly. 
 
 "You cannot deceive me," said Mr. Dunmore. "You 
 stole the proofs of his birth, which were only recovered 
 by a happy chance, or, I ought to say. Providence ; then 
 you had him carried away by brigands, and ordered him 
 to be murdered ; now you have stolen him again." 
 
 Giles Dunmore turned pale as his cousin spoke. He 
 was quite unaware that his doings in Sicily were known ; 
 especially his orders to the captain. How could Henry 
 have iearnt it ^ However, he would not acknowledge it. 
 
 " I confess," he said, " I got possession of the papers 
 you name ; but it was with no felonious intent. I meant 
 only to have them fairly examined, so that your absurd 
 Quixotry should not injure me as well as yourself I am 
 still convinced that they are forged, and that the boy is 
 an unconscious impostor." 
 
 " Why, then, do you not dispute his claim openly and 
 in the law courts, instead of being guilty of dastardly 
 crimes .-' " asked Mr. Dunmore, sternly. 
 
 " 1 have been guilty of no crimes. How could I pre- 
 vent the Sicilian brigands stealing the child ? He was 
 not their only captive, I daresay. As to their story of my 
 complicity — why, I should have risked my own liberty 
 had I held any private communication with them. It is 
 absurd 1 " 
 
 "As the member of a secret society to which their 
 captain belonged, you ran no risk ; nay, you could com- 
 mand his obedience to any real or pretended orders from 
 it," said Henry Dunmore. He was struck, as he spoke, 
 by Giles's pallor and startled look ; he saw that he had 
 made an impression. " Giles," he said, " I am about now 
 
 3*5
 
 282 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 to do what I have hitherto shrunk from on account of 
 the disgrace it will be to our family. I shall employ the 
 police, and bring the whole story before a London magis- 
 trate — unless you tell me instantly where Algy is." 
 
 "I can with truth swear to you that I don't know," 
 replied Giles, sullenly. " As to a magistrate, you will do 
 as you please ; but you will be unable to prove anything 
 against me, and will only make yourself a laughing- 
 stock." Then he approached the bell, and rang. 
 
 "You will excuse me," he said haughtily, "if I decline 
 to hold any further conversation with you." 
 
 Henry Dunmore turned away in silence, and left the 
 room. 
 
 But he went straight to the Prefecture of Police, told 
 his tale — which did not appear at all singular to those 
 experienced men — and engaged their services to watch 
 his cousin, and, if possible, to find the child. That 
 evening he again started for England. 
 
 The ticket-office clerk observed to a porter, as Mr. 
 Dunmore left, after taking his ticket, 
 
 " Those Messieurs must be twin brothers, they are so 
 much alike. It is hard to tell one from the other," 
 alluding to a passenger who had just passed. 
 
 But Mr. Dunmore never suspected that his cousin 
 Giles travelled in the same train with himself 
 
 It was a late journey, and quite dark before they 
 reached Calais. Just as they were close to the station, 
 and as Mr. Dunmore was shutting up his paper — he could 
 no longer see to read — there came a violent crash, loud 
 and terrible outcries, and he found himself jammed in 
 between the wrecks of his shattered carriage ; his arm a 
 good deal hurt and cut, and his face also, by splinters. 
 It was a railway collision. 
 
 His injuries were not serious, however, and when at 
 last he was released from the wrecked carriage, he found
 
 NEMESIS. 283 
 
 that, though shaken, cut, and bruised, he had no limbs 
 broken. But those in front of the train, up to the very- 
 carriage before his own, were either dreadfully wounded 
 or killed. 
 
 As Mr. Dunmore was mournfully passing through the 
 bodies, not yet even all placed on the platform, he heard 
 a faint cry of " Henry ! " and turning at it, and looking 
 down, met the eyes of his cousin Giles staring at him 
 with a look of agony. He called for help immediately, 
 and the desperately injured man was carefully carried 
 into one of the waiting-rooms, all of which were now full 
 of sufferers. One of the doctors came to him at once, 
 but shook his head as he turned to Mr. Dunmore. 
 
 "Both legs crushed," he said: "spine injured. He 
 cannot live many minutes." 
 
 Giles, his hearing quickened by anxiety, heard the 
 words, though spoken in a low tone, and cried again 
 faintly, " Henry ! " Mr. Dunmore approached him, and 
 bent over him. 
 
 "Am I dying .^" asked Giles faintly. 
 "My dear cousin, you are in great danger," he replied. 
 " Oh, Giles ! pray — pray for forgiveness, even at this 
 eleventh hour, and make atonement if you can ! " 
 
 "I don't — believe — it — is any — use," gasped Giles; 
 "but I will atone — as — far — as I can. The boy — was — 
 stolen — by — my order, — and was — to — be lost — in — 
 
 London — not hurt. The man — who — took him — is " 
 
 His voice ceased, a frightful spasm contorted his face, 
 and Giles Dunmore was dead. When he wished to atone 
 for his sins, he could not do so, — it was too late. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore was much more shocked than we can 
 express at this frightful ending of a man whose evil life 
 had closed thus suddenly. He was the more distressed 
 because the miserable Giles had not been able to give 
 him the clue to little Algy's abductor. Poor little fellow !
 
 284 J^-E THREE BOYS. 
 
 lost in London ! What terrible sufferings those words 
 might imply ! 
 
 He telegraphed at once to the London detective, and 
 to Harold to go up to the former, and give him a photo- 
 graph of the poor little boy. He could not leave Calais 
 before the unhappy Giles was in his coffin. 
 
 But there was no cause for delay beyond that of the 
 inquiry into the accident. Mr. Dunmore was rich enough 
 to pay well for everything, and the third day after the 
 railway accident the coffin of Giles Dunmore was taken 
 on board the steamer on its road to England. His 
 generous cousin would henceforth keep the secret of his 
 wickedness, and give his remains a place in the ancestral 
 vault. But though Mr. Dunmore sent on the dismal 
 Cjrtege, with his servant in attendance, as soon as they 
 reached London he remained himself in town, to see the 
 detectives and Harold, and to ask if any trace had been 
 found of the poor little baronet. But no clue had been 
 discovered. 
 
 However, the police were very active, stimulated by a 
 /arge reward, and Harold, who looked pale and unhappy 
 and had been traversing the streets all the morning and 
 hurrying after every child resembling Algy, was resolved 
 to find the lost boy. Mr. Dunmore felt that he could 
 trust the search for a time to him, and (though reluc- 
 tantly) went down to the Rockery to bury his wicked 
 kinsman. 

 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE LOST CHILD. 
 
 ICK had just left his office at four o'clock that 
 day, when he was startled by feeling a hand laid 
 on his shoulder, and turning, he saw Harold 
 beside him. 
 
 " Harold," he cried, delighted, "who would have thought 
 of seeing you ? I am jolly glad ! " 
 
 " Still a slangy individual," said Harold, smiling. " Can 
 you come and dine with me at my hotel, Dick, this 
 evening?" 
 
 " With great pleasure, of course. Are you all in 
 London, then ? " 
 
 " No, only myself and Sambo. We have lost poor little 
 Algy; that wicked Giles Dunmore has had him stolen 
 away, and turned adrift, as Lance would say, in London. 
 But come along, I will tell you as we walk. But please 
 look at every beggar child we pass, there's a good fellow; 
 I 've been doing it ever since one o'clock." 
 
 The boys walked on, and Harold told Dick the story 
 our readers know. The boy was indignant. 
 
 " I never heard of such a villain," he said. " It is a 
 precious good thing he was smashed in the railway, / 
 think, or he might have ' removed ' Mr. Dunmore by-and- 
 bye." 
 
 " Mr. Dunmore thinks it very awful that he should have 
 died, as he did, in the midst of his wickedness," said 
 Harold, gravely. 
 
 286
 
 286 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 " My dear fellow, if he had lived to the age of Methu- 
 selah he would have been no better ; old age didn't im- 
 prove the wicked giants before the Flood, and it would 
 not have improved Mr. Giles Dunmore — a man who could 
 be cruel to a child ! " And Dick clenched his fist at the 
 thought. 
 
 " But, of course everything is ordered right. I only 
 wish he could have told the name of the rascal who took 
 little Algy away," he continued. 
 
 " Yes ; that is the awful part of it. Do you think we 
 shall ever find him .-' " 
 
 Dick shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " It is very much like the proverbial needle in the 
 bundle of hay," he said ; " but we must hope." 
 
 Harold had installed himself, by Mr. Dunmore's order, 
 at the Grand Hotel, and thither the boys were proceed- 
 ing. As they went, they looked carefully at every child 
 of Algy's size, but did not see the dear little face they 
 both loved. They dined together, and promised to meet 
 at Dick's office at one the next day, when he went out 
 to luncheon ; but meantime he proposed a walk in search 
 of Algy ; and they traversed the streets running out of 
 the Strand, their hopes more than once raised, to be dis- 
 appointed, by the number of little ragged children in 
 Villiers Street. However, they did not find Algy, and 
 by-and-bye Dick was obliged to take an omnibus to 
 Kensington, where he lived, and they had to say good 
 night. 
 
 The next morning's papers all contained an advertise- 
 ment, offering a hundred pounds to the man who took 
 the little Sir Algernon away if he would restore him, and 
 the same sum to any one who would give information 
 about him. 
 
 But advertisement and search alike were fruitless, and 
 yet the child was really at no great distance from them.
 
 THE LOST CHILD. 287 
 
 It is time that we told our readers what had become of 
 the boys' Httle pet. 
 
 As he was running down the lane that summer day to 
 meet or find Harold, a gipsy man suddenly met him, and 
 asked him who he was. Rather awed by the dark stern 
 face of his interrogator, the child answered, "Sir Algernon 
 Dunmore," as his nurse had taught him in case of the 
 boy's being accidentally lost. The man instantly caught 
 him and raised him in his arms. Algy screamed shrilly, 
 but the fellow put his great hand over the rosy little 
 mouth, and sternly told him that if he made any more 
 noise he would " wring his neck." Algy did not under- 
 stand what wringing his neck meant, but the incomprehen- 
 sibility rendered the threat only the more terrible, and he 
 sat silent and trembling on the gipsy's arm. His captor, 
 after a hurried pause at the camp to tell the gipsies to 
 move onwards, bore him swiftly along till they reached a 
 railway station. Before he entered it, however, the gipsy 
 again repeated his threats, and poor little Algy feared to 
 disobey him. Thus he was borne into a third-class 
 carriage unseen by the porters, and was soon steaming 
 away to London. During the journey Algy fell fast 
 asleep, and when he awoke, found himself on a pallet in a 
 cellar in one of the worst parts of London. It was dark, 
 but there was a scrap of fire in the stove, and an old 
 woman crouching over it. 
 
 " Nurse ! " cried the waking child, "nurse ! Benedetta." 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " said the crone, rising, and going 
 over to him. 
 
 " I want Benedetta," sobbed Algy ; *' I want my 
 nurse." 
 
 " There ain't no 'Better here ; but you be a good child, 
 and I '11 take care of you," said the old woman. 
 
 " But I want to go home," wailed the boy. 
 
 " Oh ! you can't go home ; this is home now. Here,
 
 288 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 do you want your tea ? " she asked, taking a small black 
 teapot off the hob. 
 
 " No," sobbed Algy, " I don't have tea ; I have — milk 
 — and — water," sobbing. 
 
 " Well, then, you shall have a cup of tea for a treat." 
 And she took the little fellow's hand and led him to the 
 table. 
 
 Algy, though frightened, was rather pleased at being 
 allowed to have real tea instead of milk and water, and 
 drank the horrible decoction presented to him as if it 
 had been nectar. As he was hungry, he also gladly ate 
 the dry bread she gave him. Then he sat by the {q.\n 
 embers, and ths old woman told him a ghastly story of a 
 man she called " Cruel Tom," a tale which haunted and 
 disturbed the poor child's sleep for many years after- 
 wards, returning to him often in dreams. 
 
 The next morning she dressed him in miserable and 
 dirty rags, and took him out with her to beg. In vain 
 the boy demanded his own clothes, and cried, and tried 
 to tear off his filthy garments. A hard blow on his 
 back, a cruel shaking, soon subdued him, and he went 
 out with his mistress, sobbing in a manner she deemed 
 very effective ; as she was able to say, while whining for 
 relief to a kind-looking lady, 
 
 " The poor babe is crying with hunger, good lady : he 
 has had nothing to eat for two days." 
 
 And the great beauty and evident distress of the child 
 brought many pennies to the crone's pocket. 
 
 But Algy had understood enough not to cry the next 
 day while they were out — not even when she pinched 
 him. He knew that she would " tell stories " about why 
 he cried ; so he kept back his tears resolutely, and as 
 firmly refused to beg when desired to do so. Nay, as he 
 made an attempt once or twice to tell the passers-by 
 that he was "Algy," and that "he waited to go home,"
 
 THE LOST CHILD. 289 
 
 the woman thought it dangerous to take him farther, and 
 returned home, where she administered a good whipping 
 to poor Httle Algy, " in punishment," as she said, " of his 
 disobedience." He was also refused tea and supper, and 
 had to go hungry and in pain to his wretched bed. 
 
 Several days passed on ; the child was again taken 
 out, but again would not beg, and only held out his hand 
 silently when made do so by a blow, and stared stupidly 
 at the person solicited. 
 
 Dame Grimes was at her wits' end with him. 
 
 " He is the contrariest vermin I ever saw," she declared 
 to her gipsy son when he entered the cellar about a week 
 afterwards : " he won't beg, nor even cry, as he did at 
 first ; and yet I whack him pretty nigh every night. He 
 won't be no good, Jack." 
 
 "No," said the gipsy, sullenly, "he won't, for the cove 
 that was to have give us thirty pounds a year to take care 
 on him is dead — smashed up in a railway haccident — so 
 no more money will come from him." 
 
 "Ain't there bin any reward offered for the child.-*" 
 asked the crone, artfully. " He must be the son of rich 
 gentlefolks, I think, by his clothes — they fetched a deal 
 — and he calls hisself Sir Halgernon." 
 
 " Yes, there 's a hundred pounds reward offered for him, 
 but how can we get it? If it was known I kidnapped a 
 swell's child, I should have a precious long time in gaol, 
 and no money can make up for that, mother, to a gipsy." 
 
 " Why, no, it can't. I wish as you had never undertook 
 the job. Jack." 
 
 "Oh, I dunno. I bagged a good bit of money down, 
 you know, and maybe we may manage to get the reward 
 by-and-bye. We must wait ; mayhap they 'll ^aise it too. 
 Keep him in a bit, mother." 
 
 And now Algy was kept strictly in the house, and 
 never allowed to breathe the air. He had one consolation. 
 
 37
 
 290 
 
 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 The family who lived upstairs had a little girl a year or 
 two older than himself. This child used to run down to 
 do odd jobs sometimes for the old woman whom she 
 called Mrs. Grimes ; and Mrs. Grimes being desirous of 
 getting out to the public house occasionally — indeed, 
 from habit, she nearly lived in the streets — engaged to 
 give Nancy a penny a week, if she would take care of 
 Algy, and not let him go out of doors. Nancy was glad 
 to accept the employment, for she had taken a fancy to 
 the pretty little boy, and she liked to play with him. 
 
 Now, Nancy's father was a dealer in birds, and she 
 thought it would please Algy to let him look at and listen 
 to their captives, and consequently she took him upstairs 
 (that was not out of doors, she said) to show him a parrot 
 her father had lately bought of a sailor, and which could 
 say many words. And Algy was delighted with his 
 visit, for (strange to say) the parrot cried "Algy" and 
 "Lance," and called out, "Avast there!" just as Lance's 
 parrot had done in the tea country. The child was sure, 
 he said, he knew the parrot, and the parrot seemed to 
 know him ; but the girl persisted that he could not know 
 it : it had come very lately from over the sea.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE PARROT. 
 
 |NE day as Harold and Dick were passing down 
 by Whitehall, they came face to face with Lance, 
 issuing from the Admiralty. The exclamation 
 of surprise at the meeting was mutual. 
 
 "Who would have thought of seeing you, Lance!" 
 cried Harold. 
 
 " Well, yes, I dare say you are surprised," he replied ; 
 " but I was ordered home, and have had to report myself 
 at the Admiralty." 
 
 " I hope they were pleased to see you," said Dick. 
 
 " Delighted ! They feel that the navy is safe now I 
 have returned to it. But how came you fellows to be in 
 London .? " 
 
 " I live here now, to my sorrow," sighed Dick, " but 
 Harold is here in search of poor little Algy." 
 
 And the story of Algy's loss was soon told. Lance 
 was distressed and indignant. The boys had all loved 
 the pretty innocent little fellow. 
 
 " I '11 help you seek for him," he exclaimed : " I have 
 a week's leave before I join my new ship : she isn't 
 ready. I will spend it helping you look for him. We 
 shall find him, I am convinced. When did WE THREE 
 fail?" 
 
 The boys took Lance back to the hotel, where he was 
 warmly welcomed by Mr. Dun more, and invited to stay 
 with them there. We need not say the invitation was 
 
 291
 
 292 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 gladly accepted, and Lance sent for his portmanteau 
 from the hotel where he had slept. 
 
 " Have you searched Seven Dials well ? " he asked the 
 next morning at breakfast. 
 
 " The police have been there," replied Mr. Dunmore, 
 " and offered large rewards, but without success." 
 
 " Let me have a try at it," said Lance ; " I want to go 
 there, so I have an excuse for prying about. In landing 
 at Southampton, my parrot, cage and all, was stolen from 
 amongst my traps on the landing-place. I want to buy 
 another, for I think they are pleasant pets, so that can be 
 my excuse for going into the bird-shops." 
 
 "We will go," decided Harold, "and fetch Dick to 
 accompany us at his luncheon hour." 
 
 They did as they had resolved — met Dick, and started 
 all three on their explorations. What a queer place they 
 thought Seven Dials was ! In one street were heaps and 
 heaps of old shoes, mended up, and put out for sale in 
 even rows, along the cellar shutters. They peeped about 
 here and everywhere, but the cellars seemed pretty open, 
 and Lance proposed trying the birds. They soon found 
 themselves in a street which seemed consecrated to the 
 captivity of the pretty woodland songsters. There were 
 cages innumerable. From some the plaintive song of 
 the caged skylark made the country boy, Harold, shudder 
 with indignation ; from others came the pretty note of 
 the chaffinch, or a bullfinch piped a sorrowful " God save 
 the Queen." 
 
 " I declare," said Harold, " I long to open all the cages 
 and let the birds out. Whenever I can afford it I will 
 buv them all and set them free." 
 
 " They would instantly be replaced by others," observed 
 Dick. 
 
 A man here came out of the shop, and asked what 
 they were pleased to want.
 
 LANCE FINDS HIS PARROT
 
 THE PARROT. 293 
 
 " Have you a humdergun ? " asked Lance, gravely. 
 
 " Not at present, sir. Foreign bird, sir ? I daresay I 
 can get it for you." 
 
 "No, we can't wait — we want it immediately," said 
 Lance. 
 
 " Foreign bird dealer a little farther on, sir," said the 
 man : " first turning to the left down a court." 
 
 1 he boys thanked him and went on. The court they 
 entered was narrow and very dirty. Some ill-looking 
 rough men were standing about, leaning against the 
 walls and smoking ; dirty children played on the steps of 
 the doors. 
 
 " It looks a villanous neighbourhood," said Harold. 
 
 " Yes," replied Lance ; " but it is the more likely to 
 hide poor little Algy. Keep your eyes about you." 
 
 They walked on, and were about half-way down the 
 court when suddenly they heard a shrill bird-voice crying, 
 
 " Lance ! Lance ! What cheer, my hearty ! " Lance 
 stood still, amazed, and looked about him. " Breakers 
 ahead!" shouted the same voice, 
 
 " Poll's voice, or I 'm a Dutchman ! " exclaimed Lance. 
 "So, my lady, I 've found you." 
 
 And he whistled "The Little Midshipmite," which 
 Poll instantly echoed very distinctly. 
 
 The sound came from a shop close to them, in which 
 a few foreign birds were exhibited in the window : a 
 wretched shabby-looking cockatoo, some small green 
 paroquets, a ragged-looking macaw, and a grey parrot, 
 who of the whole assembly of birds was the only one in 
 a handsome cage. 
 
 Lance instantly entered the shop, followed by his 
 companions, and went up to the parrot. 
 
 •'Well, old lass, how are you?" he said, putting his 
 face close to the bars, " Polly dear ! " 
 
 The recognition seemed mutual, for at the sound of
 
 294 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Lance's voice the parrot came down against the bars of 
 her cage, put her head gently against his cheek, and 
 made the sound of violent kissing. It was convincing 
 proof enough for Lance. 
 
 " Hi, here ! Ship ahoy! " he cried, laughing; and the 
 parrot screamed in echo to him, 
 
 " Ship ahoy 1 Look alive, my hearties ! " 
 
 At these calls a man came from an inner room, look- 
 ing a little startled. 
 
 " Where did you get this parrot .-' " asked Lance. 
 
 " That parrot, sir ? Bought it of a seaman come from 
 the Coast of Africa, sir," he said nervously. 
 
 " It is my bird," declared Lance, decidedly. " He must 
 have stolen it, cage and all." 
 
 " Bee, Bee, what a beautee ! " cried the parrot. 
 
 " I taught her those words, and I claim the bird," went 
 on Lance, " as my own property." 
 
 The man's face darkened. 
 
 " I ain't a-goin' to give her up to you, then," he said, 
 sullenly. " I give a good sum for her, and I 've only your 
 word that she belongs to you. She talks like a seaman's 
 bird." 
 
 "/am a seaman," said Lance. 
 
 " More like a rascally schoolboy," sneered the bird- 
 dealer. 
 
 " No impertinence, sir," said Lance sternly, and with 
 an air of command, "or I will call the police. These 
 young gentlemen with me also recognize the bird." 
 
 The man changed his tone. 
 
 "Well, sir," he said, " I gave the blue-jacket two pound 
 for it, and it 's worth more. You wouldn't hurt a poor 
 man. How could I know the man had stolen it .'* I '11 
 let you have it at a reduction, sir — say a pound." 
 
 At this moment they were interrupted by a succession 
 of the most piercing screams, and from the inner room
 
 THE PARROT. 293 
 
 darted. a ragged dirty child, pursued by a tall man, who 
 at sight of the boys sprang forward and shut the shop-door. 
 
 " Come along, you young varmint," he growled, seizing 
 the child by its arm as it stood looking dazed at the boys, 
 " come along." And he slapped it on the back. 
 
 But it burst from him, rushed to Harold, and clasped 
 his knees, crying, " Halald, Halald ! I 'm Algy ! " 
 
 And Harold caught him up in his arms, and discovered 
 in the face, black with dirt and tears, the matted hair 
 and thin starved little form, his well-loved but at first 
 not recognized pet. 
 
 " Algy, my dear little soul ! " he cried. " This child 
 belongs to me," he added, addressing the men. 
 
 "Well, that's a pretty go," said the bird -dealer : "one 
 of these boys claims my parrot, and now t'other claims 
 your son. Jack." 
 
 " But he ain't goin' to have him," said the gipsy, fero- 
 ciously. And he advanced to pull the little child out of 
 Harold's arms. 
 
 But Lance interfered. " Touch him if you dare 1 " he 
 cried, planting himself before Harold. 
 
 The tall gipsy raised his arm and levelled a blow at 
 Lance, which might have crushed him ; but the boy 
 understood how to use his fists scientifically — he parried 
 it, and delivered one at his opponent which stretched 
 him on the floor in a moment. 
 
 " Open the door, Dick," he shouted, leaping over his 
 fallen foe. 
 
 But Dick had already attempted to do so, and been 
 instantly assaulted by the bird-dealer, who was encou- 
 raged by the example of his villanous companion to 
 attack the boys, with an ultimate intention probably of 
 robbery. The fallen giant was raising himself mean- 
 time; his fall had been severe but had not stunned him^. 
 and there was no time to lose.
 
 29-5 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Lance rushed to Dick's rescue, and attacked the bird- 
 seller, and Dick, who was nearest to the door, opened it, 
 and, going outside, shouted for the police. Harold had 
 also sprung over the prostrate giant. He now rushed 
 past Dick's former opponent, and darted into the street 
 with the child in his arms, shouting " Police ! " But no 
 policeman was visible, and though Lance had also fought 
 his way out, the man pursued him, calling for help, and 
 several of the ill-looking roughs loafing in the court were 
 obeying the summons. 
 
 The boys looked round in some dismay, and Lance 
 and Dick, calling on Harold to run on with Algy, faced 
 their approaching and growling foes gallantly, though a 
 stone struck Dick's forehead and cut it open. 
 
 They were in considerable danger, for the entrance to 
 the court was at some little distance, when suddenly their 
 pursuers drew off, darted away, and disappeared. Look- 
 ing back to see what had caused this sudden change of 
 tactics, Lance perceived that a party of police and Mr. 
 Dunmore were entering the court. The lads gave a glad 
 cheer and rushed to meet them. 
 
 "Just in time," gasped Lance. "We have had some 
 ugly customers ; but we have found Algy ! " 
 
 And then, while Mr. Dunmore welcomed with great 
 pity his poor little ward, the boys led the police back to 
 the shop, where the parrot was still screaming " Lance." 
 
 The parrot was secured for Lance by them, and the 
 men threatened ; but, for the sake of his dead cousin's 
 name, Mr. Dunmore would not have the gipsy arrested ; 
 and Lance declared that the bird-dealer was enough 
 punished by the loss of the bird. 
 
 " But how did you find us, Mr. Dunmore, and come so 
 in the nick of time? " he asked, as they drove home in a 
 cab. 
 
 " Well, after you boys left, I grew uneasy about you :
 
 THE PARROT. 297 
 
 the neighbourhood is not good here, so I thought I would 
 follow you, and did so almost immediately. Luckily for 
 you I went, on entering the street, to the first bird-shop 
 which you had visited ; heard from the man, who is civil 
 and honest, that three young gentlemen had called a 
 short time before in search of a bird called ahumdergun" 
 (he laughed, and added in parenthesis, " I recognized 
 Lance in this singular naturalist") "and that he had sent 
 them to the only person likely to have a bird of which 
 he had never heard. * But,' he added, ' the seller lives 
 down Bell Court, which is rather a bad neighbourhood, 
 and perhaps it would be as well, sir, if you looked after 
 them.' 
 
 " Then," went on Mr. Dunmore, "I called a policeman, 
 who summoned another that happened to be near, and 
 we followed you, meeting a group of police who were 
 going to arrest some roughs actually residing in this very 
 court ; and thus we came providentially to your rescue." 
 
 Sambo and Benedetta, who were both at the hotel, and 
 who had been aiding in the long search, received Algy 
 with cries of rapture; though the tender-hearted Italian 
 shed many tears over the poor little child, when, on 
 bathing him, she saw that he was a mere skeleton, and 
 covered with bruises. But she did her best to relieve 
 him and make him comfortable, and, after a good meal 
 of boiled chicken and toast and water, he was put to bed, 
 and soon fell into a profound slumber. 
 
 " Harold, we should never have found the poor little 
 fellow if it had not been for Lance," said Dick, at dinner 
 that day. His forehead had been dressed and bound up, 
 and Mr. Dunmore had called on his employers and begged 
 a week's holiday for him on account of the wound ; it 
 had been granted at once. 
 
 " And Lance's parrot," laughed the midshipman, " Poll, 
 has proved to be worth her weight in gold." 
 
 38
 
 298 
 
 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 "Good bird," cried the parrot from its cage in the 
 window. " Poll would like some tea." 
 
 " She is a very clever bird indeed, and ought to be 
 entered into the detective force," said Harold. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore was now desirous to return home, and 
 the boys had to part from Lance — Dick was to accompany 
 Harold. 
 
 " Oh, if we never had to part, what might we not do ! " 
 cried Dick, theatrically ; "'we three' always succeed in 
 every undertaking, do we not, Mr. Dunmore?" 
 
 Mr. Dunmore laughed and said that it really seemed so.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 BURGLARS. 
 
 R. DUNMORE would not have the gipsy arrested, 
 as we have said ; he wished to spare the memory 
 of his dead cousin ; but he hastened to leave 
 London, and to carry back his rather trying little ward 
 to his country home. 
 
 Here things resumed their usual routine, and no cir- 
 cumstance of any kind happened to break the happy 
 monotony of daily life. Thus November closed, and the 
 short dark days of December arrived. Dick was to spend 
 his Christmas at Pengarven, and the boys were rejoiced 
 at the prospect of meeting again. 
 
 On the twenty-second of December, however. Sambo 
 entered with a letter, which he said the gardener at the 
 Raven's Nest had brought for Massa Harold. Harold 
 took it in great surprise. Sir Jasper never wrote letters 
 (except to his brokers), he thought them a waste of time 
 and money ; therefore it must, Harold thought, be some- 
 thing very important that made him write. He opened 
 the letter and read these words : 
 
 "Dear Nephew, — I am glad to receive such good 
 accounts of you from your friend Mr. Dunmore. He is 
 a rich man — very rich, I hear — and I hope he will leave 
 you his money. I am glad you try to please him. Now, 
 my dear boy, I want you to ask him to spare you to me 
 
 299
 
 300 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 for a little while. The burglaries in this neighbourhood 
 have recently been frequent and alarming, and I am get- 
 ting uneasy about the Raven's Nest, though, as you well 
 know, I have nothing worth their coming here for, I am 
 too poor. However, I should feel more comfortable if 
 you would come here and be a companion to me these 
 dark evenings. I shall be glad also if you can persuade 
 Mr. Dunmore to let you bring with you that honest and 
 brave negro of whom you wrote me such a pleasant 
 account. Your gun will keep the table well supplied for 
 us all, I have no doubt. Answer me by bearer at once. 
 
 " Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 " Jasper Sinclair." 
 
 It was with the bitterest disappointment that Harold 
 read these words. He had been going to stay at Dr. 
 Lovelace's the very next day ! Mr, Dunmore observed 
 his change of expression — they were at luncheon — and 
 said, 
 
 " Your uncle is not ill, I hope, Harold } " 
 
 " No," said Harold, " but he is afraid of burglars, and 
 he wants me to go there at once, to keep him company, 
 as the servants say; and I was going to Dick's to-morrow." 
 
 " It is vexatious, but I think you ought to go to your 
 uncle whenever he wishes you to do so. He has a right 
 to keep you with him always, remember, if he pleased." 
 
 "And he wishes me to take Sambo with me, if you 
 can spare him," added Harold, despondently. 
 
 " Then probably he only requires you for a short visit," 
 said Mr. Dunmore, smiling ; " he would not care to keep 
 you both long." 
 
 " No, but I wanted so much to go to Dick's. We were 
 to have acted charades on Twelfth Night, and I had to 
 rehearse my part with them, you know." 
 
 " It is a disappointment, no doubt, my dear lad, but we
 
 BURGLARS. 301 
 
 must never give up a duty for pleasure ; and who knows ? 
 you may be with Dick on Twelfth Night after all." 
 
 " Well," said Harold, with a sigh, " I suppose I must 
 not grumble, but 'grin and bear it,' as Dick says." 
 
 " Ring the bell," replied his friend : " we will see the 
 gardener, and hear, perhaps, more about the matter." 
 
 Jordan, an old servant of the Sinclairs, and a man of 
 advanced age himself, appeared when summoned, and 
 told them that Sir Jasper had not been at all like himselt 
 lately ; that he had grown very nervous, was always 
 prowling about the house at night and examining the 
 shutters, and that Mrs. Brown said he ate next to no- 
 thing. Mr. Dunmore looked grave. 
 
 "And," went on Jordan, "there have been a deal of 
 housebreaking round the neighbourhood lately. I mostly 
 sleeps at the house now." 
 
 Mr. Dunmore was sorry for Harold's disappointment, 
 but said that it was his duty to obey his uncle at once ; 
 and Harold therefore scribbled a line to Sir Jasper to say 
 that he would be with him in a few hours. He started 
 an hour afterwards in Mr. Dunmore's carriage, borrowing 
 a pistol of him before he left, and arrived at Raven's 
 Nest just before Sir Jasper's dinner-hour. 
 
 His uncle received him very cordially, almost gladly ; 
 but Harold was shocked at the change a year had made 
 in him. He was a perfect skeleton, and his eyes looked 
 feverishly bright. 
 
 " I have not been very well," he said, in answer to 
 Harold's inquiries as to his health ; " I have been obliged 
 to send for Dr. Lovelace: an awful expense," with a groan, 
 " but he attends me for as low a sum as any other would. 
 I am expecting him to come in every minute." 
 
 " I am glad of that," said Harold, " for then I can ex- 
 plain why 1 shall not be able to accept Dick's invitation 
 for Christmas."
 
 302 WE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Sir Jasper looked pleased. 
 
 " So/' he said, " you gave up your Christmas jollities 
 for me ? Good boy ! Mrs. Brown shall make you a 
 Christmas pudding for doing so." 
 
 The fact was that Sir Jasper had missed his nephew 
 greatly since his departure ; and only the hope of Harold's 
 securing Mr. Dunmore's fortune by-and-bye, and the fact 
 of that gentleman's educating the lad, had prevented him 
 from recalling his young kinsman long ago. 
 
 A few minutes after Harold's arrival, Dr. Lovelace's 
 carriage drove up. He was surprised to see Harold, yet 
 glad. 
 
 " I am sorry, for Dick's sake as well as our own," he 
 said, "that you cannot be with us, Harold, this Christmas; 
 but Sir Jasjoer really needs you, and I am rejoiced for his 
 sake that you are here. You will sleep soundly, Sir 
 Jasper," he went on to his patient, " now that you have 
 this young tiger-slayer to protect your slumbers." 
 
 Sir Jasper smiled assent. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he replied, "and we have the negro here 
 also — Sambo." 
 
 That evening Harold had to relate to his uncle the 
 many and strange adventures that had been crowded into 
 a year; and Sir Jasper listened with delighted attention. 
 He had not been so well amused for a long time, and he 
 wished Harold good night almost affectionately. 
 
 " Your room is not your old one," he said ; " I have 
 had a bed put for you in my dressing-room, so that we 
 may be together ; it 's safer." 
 
 Before Harold went to his room, however, he paid a 
 visit to Mrs. Brown, who was enchanted to see her dear 
 young master again. 
 
 " You ain't grown much taller, Mr. Harold," she said, 
 "you got all your height at once; but you are browned a 
 good deal, and look a deal more manly too. It is a real
 
 BURGLARS. 303 
 
 pleasure to see you home again, sir. And that negro ! — 
 well, really, he is a good joke. The tales he told us made 
 my hair stand on end almost. What you have gone 
 through ! Well, thanks be to Providence you 're safe at 
 home again. Those foreign parts are awfully dangerous." 
 
 The night passed quietly, and Sir Jasper seemed better 
 the next day for his sleep. He told Harold that he had 
 had to keep awake as a watch-dog must, in case of the 
 house being attempted. 
 
 "But why did you not have Ponto in the house.?" 
 asked the boy, " he would be a great protection." 
 
 "You are right, Harold," cried the old man, eagerly; 
 " you shall go and order him to be brought in at once. 
 You see, I couldn't look after things as you can." 
 
 Ponto, a fine retriever, was accoKiingly introduced to 
 the hall at Raven's Nest, and Harold intended him to 
 sleep in the corridor outside his uncle's door. 
 
 Dr. Lovelace arrived on his daily visit shortly after this 
 had been achieved, and, to Harold's great delight, Dick 
 (who had arrived the previous evening) came with him. 
 The lads exchanged affectionate greetings. 
 
 " I want to stay with you for a night or two," said Dick. 
 " It is true that there are burglars about, and I think I 
 might help keep the castle. Ask Sir Jasper if I may. 
 Father could drive me over every day when he pays his 
 evening visit." 
 
 But when Sir Jasper heard of Dick's offer, he, to Ha- 
 rold's great surprise, invited him to stay altogether with 
 Harold for a few days. 
 
 " I have deprived Hal of his visit," he said, " we must 
 make up to him as we best can for it. I think if you 
 stay with him, he will be as happy, though not so 
 
 gay." 
 
 Dick gladly accepted the invitation, and as he and 
 Harold purposed having a litlle shooting, the doctor
 
 304 IV£ THREE BOYS. 
 
 promised to send over Dick's gun with his portmanteau in 
 the evening. 
 
 The boys had a pleasant day together talking over 
 old times, and Sir Jasper at dinner was most friendly. 
 The evening was stormy and wild, and the wind howled 
 round the old house drearily, but they sat talking to Sir 
 Jasper by the fire, and did not heed it. He went to bed 
 early, but told the boys they need not hurry to retire, 
 and Harold took Dick to see Mrs. Brown before they 
 went up to their rooms. Dick's was ordered in the same 
 corridor. The housekeeper was glad to see Mr. Richard, 
 and brought out some very nice sweetmeats which she 
 begged them to accept ; and offered them some warmed 
 elder wine, which they found excellent. 
 
 About ten they went up to bed, Ponto's blanket being 
 established in the corridor. 
 
 How fiercely the wind howled round the Raven's Nest 
 that night ! Yet both the young lads were soon lost in 
 the pleasant and profound slumbers of their age, and 
 their rest was uninterrupted till about one in the morning, 
 when Ponto woke them by barking angrily. Harold sat 
 up in bed and listened. The dog was very angry. He 
 understood all his old pet's barks. He jumped up at 
 once, put on his slippers and dressing-gown, and rang for 
 Sambo, as he had agreed to do on any alarm. Then he 
 went to Dick's room, and found him also ready. 
 
 " There is some one in the house," he said to his friend. 
 *' Ponto is in a rage — we had better go down and see 
 what it is that vexes him. Ah ! here is Sambo," as a door 
 opened into the corridor and the negro appeared. " Now, 
 Sambo, let us go and see what vexes Ponto. Hi, Ponto ! 
 seize them ! " And he sent the retriever before them at 
 full speed. 
 
 There was a noise in the hall, and the dog gave a yelp 
 of pain as if he had received a blow. The next moment
 
 BURGLARS. 305 
 
 the boys and Sambo were there also, and saw themselves 
 confronted by two masked men armed with pistols. 
 When the robbers perceived the two bo)'-s and the negro, 
 they fired — hoping probably in the confusion thus created 
 to escape — but their bullets hit the wall only, and the 
 powerful negro springing on the nearest, disarmed him in 
 a mom.ent; while Harold, aiming very low, fired at the 
 other's legs just as he discharged his second chamber at 
 Dick. 
 
 The man fell at once. 
 
 " Call for help, Massa Dick ! " cried Sambo, who was 
 struggling with the other robber. "Jordan must come 
 and help me secure this rascal." 
 
 Dick shouted for help, rang the alarm-bell, and flew 
 to assist Sambo. Jordan very shortly appeared, with the 
 stable-boy, Mrs. Brown, and the girl, all in the greatest 
 alarm and excitement. But very soon, Avith the gardener's 
 assistance and the clothes-lines, readily found by the 
 little maid, the w^ounded and unwounded burglars were 
 both secured. 
 
 " There 's no chance of getting a doctor for you for 
 an hour or two," said Dick, approaching the wounded 
 man. At that moment Harold snatched off the fellow's 
 mask, and Dick and he exclaimed together, 
 
 " Good gracious ! it 's Saunders." 
 
 Saunders scowled at them and spoke not a word. 
 
 " Can you bind up his leg, Dick .■' " asked the shocked 
 and surprised Harold. 
 
 " I '11 try, but Jordan or Sambo had better go at once 
 for my father," was the reply. " He had better lie as he 
 is till father comes. Mrs. Brown will give me a cushion 
 for his head." 
 
 The housekeeper brought one immediately, and when 
 the wounded burglar asked for water, she readily attended 
 to his wants. 
 
 39
 
 3o6 IVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 Just then Sir Jasper's voice was heard at the top of the 
 stairs calling his nephew, and Harold at once ran up to 
 him. 
 
 "What is it, Hal ?" asked Sir Jasper, tremulously. 
 
 "We have secured two burglars, sir, one of whom I 
 have wounded," replied Harold. " Go back into bed, 
 uncle; itwill be all right." 
 
 "And no one is hurt besides .'* " asked the old gentleman. 
 
 " No one ; the shots you heard did no harm to any- 
 thing but the wall. Jordan and the stable-boy are going 
 for Doctor Lovelace now to attend to the man I wounded ; 
 they will fetch the police." 
 
 " But you are sure, Hal, that the thieves cannot get 
 loose again — are you ? " asked Sir Jasper, trembling. 
 
 " One is bound hand and foot very strongly, dear 
 uncle," said the boy, " and the wounded one has his hands 
 tied securely. Sambo and Dick with pistols in their 
 hands are standing guarding them. But what do you 
 think } The wounded one is Mr. Dunmore's old valet, 
 Saunders ; and the other, the very footpad I knocked 
 down and bound when I v/ent to help Mr. Dunmore, 
 the morning I left home." 
 
 " That is astonishing, Harold. How can one be safe 
 when such villains can get into one's own service?" 
 
 Harold saw his uncle safely back to bed, and then 
 returned to keep watch with Dick and Sambo. 
 
 Dr. Lovelace arrived in due time, and the wounded 
 man was borne to a servant's bed-room and properly 
 attended to. The police arrived shortly afterwards, and 
 carried off his companion. 
 
 Sir Jasper was not so well the next morning, naturally, 
 from his night's alarm ; but as it was utterly unlikely 
 after such an event that his house would be attacked 
 again, he recovered speedily from the nervous alarm 
 from which he had been lately suffering.
 
 BURGLARS. 307 
 
 Saunders was very sullen, but in the course of the 
 following day he asked if he might see Mr, Dunmore, 
 and Harold told him that he would ask his friend to grant 
 his request. 
 
 Mr. Dunmore called the day after the burglars' arrest, 
 and had an interview with his former valet, from which 
 he came out looking very pale and distressed. He took 
 Harold aside, and told him what Saunders had acknow- 
 ledged to him. 
 
 " It was Giles who first led the man wrong," he said ; 
 "he had bribed him to keep him informed of all my 
 proceedings. It was Giles who induced him to set the 
 footpads on me (whenever a chance occurred), that he 
 might find the papers, supposing I had them on my 
 person and not at the bank, of which my cousin was not 
 certain. It was Saunders who wrote and told him we 
 were in Sicily, and thus brought Giles out to try and use 
 the bandits as his tools. In fact, he corrupted my valet. 
 Saunders since he left me, which he did in fear of being 
 found out, has gone from bad to worse. He set up a sort 
 of hotel near Kensington, but kept in his pay several 
 burglars — the fellows you saved me from — the gipsy who 
 stole Algy — and old servants of bad character, who had 
 served in good houses and knew the secrets of plate- 
 rooms and jewel-cases. They brought him the proceeds 
 of their robberies, and received a per-centage on them 
 themselves ; a home at his inn, and false characters from 
 him when required. In fact, he declares that he can re- 
 veal a whole history of all the recent burglaries, if he is 
 allowed to turn informer." 
 
 Harold was shocked. 
 
 " It is a good thing I hit him," he said ; "now I sup- 
 pose the robberies will cease for awhile." 
 
 And they did ; but Sir Jasper was very unwilling to 
 let Harold leave him altogether again, and INIr. Dunmore
 
 5o8 
 
 ivjE three boys. 
 
 thought it the lad's duty to remain with his aged kinsman. 
 So Harold returned permanently to his old home, but 
 was allowed to join in Dick's Christmas festivites. 
 
 Saunders and his companion were sentenced to five 
 or ten years' (we forget which) penal servitude; the gang 
 was broken up, and this episode closed Harold's varied 
 adventures.
 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 CONCLUSIQN. 
 
 " Jumping o'er time, 
 Turning th' accomplishment of many years 
 
 Into an hour-glass." —Shakespeare. 
 
 I E must present our readers to the three boys once 
 more. They are young men now, of five and 
 four and twenty, and they are assembled at the 
 Raven's Nest for Christmas. 
 
 Sir Jasper died four years ago, and Harold succeeded 
 to the title and estate. 
 
 The old house looks very different from that which it 
 used to be under the rule of the old miser. There are 
 great fires everywhere — a yule log in the hall — and ]\Irs. 
 Brown, in a new silk dress, walks smiling about, seeing 
 that everything is in order. 
 
 Sambo, in highly respectable black clothes, and an 
 immaculately white shirt collar, struts about, and is to be 
 seen everywhere. He calls himself Sir Harold's Major 
 Domo. 
 
 The house is full of guests. The whole Lovelace family 
 (except Beatrice, who has married Mr. Vivien, and is gone 
 to live amongst the tea), Mrs. Mordaunt, and Ella, now a 
 grown-up young lady, Captain Regan and Lance, and 
 Algy, home from Eton, arc all there. And Harold is 
 devoted to them all. He cannot do enough for his friends; 
 
 309
 
 3IO JVE THREE BOYS. 
 
 but his eyes rest very often on Edith Lovelace, as Lance's 
 do upon Ella Mordaunt. 
 
 Dick is now a partner in the firm, and is a very well off 
 young man ; but he does not seem to care much for ladies. 
 
 It is Christmas Eve. The hall is gay with wreaths of 
 holly, ivy, and mistletoe. The yule log blazes cheerfully. 
 Before it stand the " three boys," now three men. 
 
 " It is good to be together again," says Harold, laying 
 a hand affectionately on the shoulder of each of his 
 friends ; " it always forbodes success." 
 
 " What need have you of success, Harold .-' " asked 
 young Commander Regan, with a smile. " You have all 
 you can wish." 
 
 " No," said Harold, " not all. Dick's sister is my roc's 
 
 " My sister ! " cried Dick. " Good gracious ! " 
 
 " Yes, I want Edith Lovelace to be my wife, Dick, and 
 if she says ' yes,' we shall be brothers in relation as well 
 as in heart. I mean to ask her to-night at the snap- 
 dragon," laughing. 
 
 " I feel inclined to take the same opportunity of asking 
 Ella," said Lance, flushing a little. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " cried Dick ; " and I had hoped we should 
 be three jolly bachelors." 
 
 " Nay, Dick, you must marry also, and we shall be 
 three jolly married men," 
 
 Sir Harold carried out his intention that evening, 
 and was accepted. Lance had the same success, though 
 Mrs. Mordaunt, when asked, objected to an immediate 
 marriage, but consented to an engagement. Ella was 
 so very young! Lance must make one more voyage 
 before he gained his wife. 
 
 It was a merry Christmas for them all. 
 
 They skated, shot, hunted, danced, and Algy had a 
 grand boys' party. It seemed a pity that so much plea-
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 3" 
 
 sure should come to an end, as it must ; though, if it had 
 lasted, they would no doubt all have wearied of it. 
 
 They parted and dispersed the day after the Epiphany. 
 The three boys stood together for a few minutes that 
 morning in the hall. 
 
 "Do you know," said Dick, "I think we three com- 
 pare very favourably with Damon and Pythias, or any 
 other of those old-world fogies. We have been staunch 
 friends for eleven years, and never fallen out in all our 
 trials and adventures. We have proved that union is 
 strength, for we have succeeded in everything at which 
 we worked together." 
 
 "A threefold cord is not easily broken," quoted Lance. 
 " I owe my promotion to Sir Harold's interest as an M.P." 
 
 "And he advanced me the money to purchase my 
 partnership," said Dick. " Of course I shall pay him 
 again, but it was and is an immense boon to be able to 
 secure the position at the time." 
 
 "And I," said Harold, "owe my first and last happi- 
 ness to Dick and his family, and my life itself to Lance." 
 
 " Hurrah, then," cried Dick, " for We Three Buys 1 " 
 
 I'ALZIEL BROTHERS, CAMDEN PRESS, LONDON. N.W.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
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