ed a cry of joy, for right upward, and apparently at a great
distance, there was a feeble light, and a minute or two later the two
lads were beneath the matted roofing of brambles, through which the
bright evening glow was streaming. Directly after, they were out upon
the surrounding stones, carefully scanning the ridge, to see if they had
been observed. But the place was absolutely solitary, and, after hiding
the lanthorn down in the rift, the lads started for home in silence,
Mike feeling annoyed and aggrieved, while Vince's breast was full of
triumphant satisfaction.

"I say," he said, as they reached at last a little opening in among the
scrub oak trees, "are we two going to have it out before we go home?"

"No," said Mike shortly.

"Oh! all right, then; only you didn't speak or make any apology when you
knew you were wrong."

"Yes," said Mike, after an interval, "I know I was wrong. I'm very
sorry, Vince."

"So am I," said the latter, "and something worse."

Mike looked at him wonderingly.

"Yes, ever so much: I'm about half-starved."

Mike made no reply, but walked on in silence for some time, and it was
not until they were near home that he turned again and held out his
hand.

"I'm very sorry, Vince," he said.

"What about?" cried Vince.

"That we had such a row."

"Oh, bother! I'd forgotten all about it. Don't make any more fuss
about that. I say, what a bit of luck! We must keep it quiet, though,
eh?"

"Quiet? I wouldn't have any one know for the world!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

The two lads were such close companions, and so much accustomed to
wander off together of an afternoon, fishing, cliff-climbing, and
collecting eggs, insects, minerals, or shells, that their long absences
were not considered at all extraordinary, though they were noticed by
both Mrs Burnet and Lady Ladelle, and one evening formed the subject of
a few remarks at dinner.

The Doctor and his wife often dined at the old manor-house, and upon
this occasion Mike's mother asked her visitors if they did not think
they wandered too much.

"No," said Sir Francis, taking the answer out of his guests' mouths
laughingly. "Mrs Burnet doesn't think anything of the kind, so don't
you put such ideas in her head."

"But they are often so late, my dear."

"Well, it's summer-time, and cooler of an evening. Pleasantest part of
the day. If they work well, let them play well. Eh, Burnet?"

"Cert