read.

It was a bold glance, but not a defiant one; a resolute gleam, but yet
a sad one. For days afterwards Mr. Colquhoun remembered that dauntless
look.

"No, Uncle Hugh," he said firmly.

"Brian, where is yours?"

Obedient to his father's command Brian brought one from his pocket.
That very morning, not an hour ago, he had asked Jeff to lend him his
knife, and had not returned it to its rightful owner. Jeff's lips
closed tightly and his eyes fell.

"Then I must believe, Geoffry, that it is you who have disobeyed me.
Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"I did _not_ go in the boat," he said doggedly, picking up some books
and strapping them together, with despair at his heart. Surely this
was being a hero.

"Do not add a lie to your offence and make it worse."

"I have not told you a lie, Uncle Hugh. I--did--_not_--go," he almost
shouted, shouldering his books.

Mr. Colquhoun did not argue or seek to prolong the interview, but in a
few words spoke the sentence of punishment.

"I will give orders that you are not to use your pony for a month, and
that Sandy is not to take you rabbiting or fishing for the same length
of time. You are not to be seen anywhere in the gardens or grounds
except on your way to Mr. M'Gregor's. I have never restricted you boys
in any reasonable pleasures, but I am fully determined to make you
understand that I intend to be implicitly obeyed when I think it
necessary to lay down a rule."

Then Mr. Colquhoun went away, and Jeff threw down his books with a bang.

"I'll fight you, Brian, you coward, you false witness! You're worse
than Ananias," he said, squaring himself for the combat and reddening
all over his face.

"All right. Come on. I'm twice as strong as you, and Sandy has taught
me how to box."

With this invitation Jeff began the battle in a very unscientific way.
Of course he came out of the fray with a bleeding face and torn
clothes. There was no one near to pity him, and he could only wash his
face and hope that the rents would escape Aunt Annie's notice till Nan
had mended them.

For a fortnight this poor little boy moped about the upstairs rooms and
passages in a very miserable way. Jessie was his best consolation,
bringing him news from the garden and stable which interested him. She
also paid a daily visit to Sandy in order to glean little details of
sport, and came back usually with her small face puckered up in anxiety
to forget nothing.

It