Well, I suppose you are right, Pickle. I did feel in an
awful temper; but I don't feel quite so bad now that I have found my
watch."

"And pencil-case, uncle."

"Ah, yes, my boy. That was the gift of a very grateful old patient."

"And then there are all those gold napoleons, uncle."

"Bah! Trash! Base counters, good for nothing, like the ugly head
that's upon them," cried Uncle Paul irascibly.

"But I say, uncle; it might have been worse."

"But the clothes, my boy! The scoundrels! They'll go masquerading
about in our things, and escaping, I'll be bound. But stop a minute.
What did he say about exchange?"

"Oh, that meant about the money."

"Hullo! There's that wicked old woman again!--Well, Mrs Champernowne,
what is it now?"

"The wood-shed, sir."

"Well, I don't want the wood-shed. Light the fire yourself."

"You don't understand me, sir. I went round there to get some kindling,
and there's quite a heap of old clothes there that these wicked people
have left behind."

Uncle Paul chuckled, for he was beginning to beam again.

"I say, Pickle, that accounts for the milk in the cocoa-nut. They must
have taken our things down into the old lady's wood-shed, and turned it
into a dressing-room."

"Yes," cried Rodd; "and that young Viscount is quite welcome to mine."

"Most generous, I am sure, sir," cried Uncle Paul sarcastically, "but
would you be kind enough to tell me who pays the bills for your
clothes?"

"Why, you do, uncle, of course. But I say, uncle, I do hope they'll
escape; don't you?"

"Wha-a-at!"

"You do, uncle, only you pretend that you don't."

"Pretend!"

"Yes. Poor fellows! How horrible! To have to stoop to such a scheme
as that to get away! But after all, uncle, it's glorious and brave.
What an escape! Oh, how I should like to meet that poor fellow again!"

"What, to give him up to the soldiers?" said Uncle Paul sarcastically.

"Give him up to the soldiers!" cried the boy indignantly. "Why, I'd
sooner put on his old clothes, and tell them a lie!"

"What!" cried Uncle Paul.

"Well, I'd pretend to be him so as to cheat them, and make them take me
instead."

CHAPTER SIX.

WHAT DOES THAT SERGEANT WANT?

"Humph!" grunted Uncle Paul, as they descended at last, to hear the fire
crackling in the kitchen, and the bright old copper kettle singing its
morning song.

It was a lovely morning, with the sweet scents of the garden and moor
floating in at the litt