back in his chair, took
out a clean red and yellow silk handkerchief, and wiped his forehead.

"Rodney, my boy," he said, "I felt as if we had been doing something
underhanded, and nearly brought out three of those napoleons to pay that
man."

"Oh, uncle," said the boy huskily; "it would have been like telling him
that the poor fellows had been here."

"Yes, my boy, and that you had been helping them to escape."

"Oh!" ejaculated Rodd, and he darted to the window. "No," he gasped,
with a sigh of relief. "He's gone."

"Well, we knew he'd gone, boy."

"Yes, uncle, but I was afraid that he'd stop talking to Mrs
Champernowne, and she would tell him about their coming here. But he
didn't stop, and he has gone right away."

"Hah!" ejaculated Uncle Paul. "Well, you see how near we have been to
getting into trouble with the authorities; for of course they are very
strict over such things as these. There, now I must write an important
letter to send off in acknowledgment of that despatch; so you be off now
for about half-an-hour, and go and play like a good boy."

"Yes, uncle," said Rodd, rather grumpily; and he went slowly out, with
the intention of getting somewhere on to the high ground where he could
watch the sergeant's red coat till he was out of sight. "I wish Uncle
Paul wouldn't talk to me like that," he muttered, as he went out of the
garden gate. "Go out and play like a good boy! It does make me feel so
wild! He'll be saying good little boy next, and I am past sixteen; and
he wasn't doing it to tease me either, for he was quite serious, what
with the prisoners, and the sergeant coming like that. Bother him! He
looked at me as he went away just as if he suspected that I'd left the
sandwiches and the fish where that poor fellow could get them. Here, I
mustn't let him see that I am following him. I'll go round by that
other track and get up behind those stones. Then I can see the whole
way to the prison. Oh, he didn't know anything, or else he'd have
spoken out. But that's the worst of doing what you oughtn't to. You
always feel as if everybody suspects you. Well, I didn't want to do any
harm, and Uncle Paul didn't think it was very wrong, in spite of his
grumbling about the French. If he had he wouldn't have called me
Pickle. It would have been Rodney, and his voice would have sounded
very severe, for he can be when he likes. Spoiled and indulged me!
That he hasn't!"

The ascent was so ste