A Tale of the Summer Holidays

by

G. Mockler

Thomas Nelson and Sons.
1899

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

[ "Jim scribbled the word 'yes' on his piece of paper." ]

[ "Jumbo began to wash his face and ears." ]

[ "I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?" ]

[ "The boy had thrown his lasso with deadly aim." ]

"Jim scribbled the word 'yes' on his piece of paper."

CHAPTER I.

THE SECRET MEETING.

wo days after the holidays began, the four younger members of the Danvers family received a note summoning them to a secret meeting at half-past seven the next morning in the summer-house. Drusie, who had written and delivered the notes, including one to herself, was the first to reach the appointed place; and when, a few minutes later, the other three arrived, they found her seated at the rustic table with a sheet of paper and a pencil before her, and a glass of water at her elbow.

"Good-morning," she said, rising and shaking hands with them all round. "Helen, will you sit facing me, and Jim and Tommy at either side?"

In a solemn silence they obeyed; and then seating herself again, she took a sip of water. Not that she was thirsty, but she was rather nervous.

It was so long since the last meeting, and hitherto Hal had always been the chairman. She stifled a sigh; it seemed so strange to hold a secret meeting without him.

"Go ahead," said Jim, encouragingly; "or would you like me to be chairman, Drusie?"

"Certainly not," she replied hastily. "I am the eldest here, and of course I must be chairman. And you must be serious, Jim, for we have got a lot to talk about this morning, and it won't do for Hal to come out and find us here."

"He is asleep and snoring," said Helen, in a tone of great contempt. "He has learned a lot of silly things at school, and one of them is never to get up until he is called."

"Order, please," said Drusie, rapping on the table. "You must not begin to discuss the subject until I have announced it." She rose, gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are met here this morning to discuss a question of paramount importance." She paused, partly for breath and partly to take note of the effect of her words. She was proud of that beginning, which she had learned from the report of a missionary meeting. She was pleased to observe that Helen and Tommy looked decidedly impressed, but Jim was grinning. Frowning at him, she resumed: "I may say that the matter affects us all very seriously, and it is one that ought to be taken up by the nation at large. But I regret to say that the people of England are only too apt to shirk their very obvious, their very obvious—"

But at that point she stuck hopelessly fast. Though she had carefully avoided glancing at Jim, she had seen his face out of the corner of one eye, and the wide, fixed grin that ornamented it had put her out dreadfully.

"Oh, come," he said, striking in; "aren't you laying it on rather thick? Even though Hal has come back from school with so much side on that he does not know what to do with himself, I don't see that the nation at large is concerned."

"No, of course not," Drusie acknowledged; "but it said that in the paper, you know, and it seemed a nice beginning."

"Well, suppose we skip that part," said Jim, "and get to the real business, which is of course about Hal."

"Very well," said Drusie, though she rather regretted her long sentences. "I called this meeting to talk about Hal," she said, "and to ask what you all thought about the birthday. You know we have been busy making the ammunition to storm the fort with; but if he doesn't want to defend it, it won't be much good preparing any more cannon balls. Of course, one of us could defend it; but a fight without Hal wouldn't be any fun at all. At least, that is what I think; but what do you say?"

This time Drusie had been heard with as much attention as she could wish for. The matter really was a very serious one. In two days' time it would be the twins'—Hal and Drusie's—birthday; and ever since they had been big enough to throw straight, they had always celebrated this double birthday with a big battle, followed by a feast in the summer-house. Hal had always defended the fort, while Drusie led the attacking party; and this year they had expected to have a really splendid fight, for during the past fortnight they had spent all their spare time in making ammunition, and the supply of cannon balls was larger than ever before.

But if Hal was not going to take part in the fight, all these preparations would be thrown away. It was really very difficult to know what he would or would not do, for he was so altered by his one term at school that he hardly seemed like the same boy. He did not tease or bully them, but he simply took as little notice as possible, and spoke to them in a lofty, superior sort of way, as though he were a very grown-up person and they very little children. Sometimes, however, he quite forgot to be dignified and condescending, and then Drusie hoped he meant to take part in the birthday fight as usual. And the awkward part of it was that Drusie could not ask him his intentions, as it was against their rules to say one word to him about the fight until the very day on which it was to take place.

"I suppose," said Helen, with a scornful little sniff, "he has grown too grand to fight. He would call it baby-play."

"What about the feast?" asked Jim. "Weren't you going to say something about that too, Drusie?"

"Oh yes," she said; and after she had drunk a little more water she rose to her feet again. The chairman was always supposed to finish the glass of water, and that was a part of her duties that Drusie did not much relish when the meeting was held before breakfast. Under pretence of moving it out of her way, Jim drew the tumbler towards him, and when she was not looking he filled it up from a jug which he had hidden under the table the evening before.

"The feast," she said earnestly, "is going to be a specially nice one. I am making all the wine myself, and I taste it ever so many times a day to see if it is still good. I won't tell you everything that is in it; but you can guess how lovely it will be when I say that it was made from apples, and pears, and prune juice, and sugar, and some tea that I saved from breakfast. There are lots of other things in it, too," she said, interrupting herself; "but that is a secret. The best of my wine is that it hasn't cost anything, and so we shall have more money to spend on other things. It is pocket-money day to-day, and it must all go towards the feast. My sixpence and yours, Jim, and Helen's and Tommy's threepences make one and sixpence. That is a lot of money, and I am sure Hal will give us his shilling."

"I don't think he will," said Jim, biting his lips to keep from laughing as he saw Drusie look down with mingled surprise and dismay at her nearly full glass; "he is hard up. He borrowed a penny half-penny from me the other day, and hasn't paid it back yet; and he told me that he had got rather a big bill in the village."

"Well," Drusie continued, after she had bravely gulped down some more water, "it doesn't matter very much if he doesn't give anything. We have plenty. And now we must vote." Tearing the sheet of paper into four pieces, she passed them round the table. "If you want to go on preparing for the fight and the feast, you must each write 'yes;' if you don't want to go on, you must write 'no.'"

Then she sat down, feeling rather proud of the clear way in which she had spoken, and made another attempt to finish her glass of water.

Without the slightest hesitation Jim scribbled the word "yes" on his piece of paper, and when Tommy saw what Jim had written he put "yes," too. Helen took longer to make up her mind. She could not help thinking that if they went on with the preparations for the fight, and Hal refused to have anything to do with it, they would look very silly. For at the bottom of her heart Helen was rather impressed by the airs that Hal gave himself, and would have liked very much to imitate them. But knowing well that the other three would vote for going on with the fight, she, too, wrote "yes," and put her folded slip with the others into the hat which Jim passed round.

The chairman opened them hastily.

"They are all 'yeses,' so we must go on with the preparations just the same," she said, rising once more to address the meeting; "and if Hal gives us his shilling after breakfast, it will mean that he is going to defend the fort. That is all, I think. I now declare this meeting ended."

"Hear, hear!" said Jim. "But you must finish your water, Drusie. We shan't think anything of you as a chairman if you leave a drop."

"I keep on drinking all the time," said poor Drusie, giving her tumbler, still nearly full, a glance of strong distaste.

"Perhaps you only sip it," said Jim gravely. "Shut your eyes, and take big mouthfuls. You must finish it, you know."

The sense of duty was strong in Drusie, and so she shut her eyes and made one more heroic effort. The instant her eyes were closed, Jim filled up her glass as she drank. He had hoped to make her finish the entire jugful, but he shook so with suppressed laughter that instead of pouring it into her glass he poured it on to her nose.

"O Jim!" she said reproachfully, as the truth burst upon her; "how much have I drunk?"

"Four tumblers full," he said triumphantly. "You make a splendid chairman, Drusie."

She couldn't help laughing, too, when she saw the nearly empty jug. She dried her face, scolded Jim, and then forgave him in the same breath, for a sweeter-tempered child than Drusie never lived. After that the meeting broke up, and a few minutes later the bell rang for breakfast.

Hal was already seated at the table when they reached the nursery. He was a nice-looking boy, taller than Drusie by a couple of inches, and well grown for his years, which would be twelve on the following Tuesday.

"Hallo!" he said, as they all trooped in; "what have you been up to? I know," he said, catching sight of the tumbler now really empty at last in Drusie's hand. "A secret meeting. You might have asked me. What was it about?"

Drusie flushed up and looked guilty. She could not tell him that the meeting had been about himself. But just then Helen interposed.

"Why, you wouldn't have cared to come," she said. "You said yesterday that secret meetings were baby things."

So he had, but it nevertheless was a pity that Helen reminded him of it just then. He had come down to breakfast that morning inclined to drop back into his old place among them, and his tone and manner were friendly and pleasant. But Helen's speech rubbed him up the wrong way at once, and in an instant he became the lofty and contemptuous school-boy brother again.

"And so they are baby things, Miss Helen," he said; "but it is rather amusing, you know, to watch babies at play. That is why I should have liked to be told of this important secret meeting in time."

That that was not the reason Drusie knew as well as he did. And he felt rather ashamed when he saw the hurt expression that came to her face. But Helen really must be taught that there was a great difference between a little girl of eight who had never been away from home in her life and a boy of twelve who had been to school. But it was not always easy to snub Helen.

"You are silly, Hal," she said. "Just because you have been to school for one term, you fancy that you are too big to play with us. Such nonsense."

Well, of course, that led to a sharp answer from Hal. Helen replied again, and a hot wrangle went on across the breakfast table.

"Come, come, Master Hal," said nurse at last—for though Helen had certainly begun this quarrel, it was generally Hal who had done so since he came home—"what would your father and mother say if they were at home and heard you? They would not think that you had been very kind to your brothers and sisters since you came back."

"I wish they were at home," said Hal, suddenly flaming out, "and then I should have my meals with them, instead of being shut up with all of you. I hate having my meals in the nursery. I am not a little boy any longer, and I don't see why I should."

There was a moment's dead silence after this outburst, and all the others gazed wonderingly at Hal. They were astonished that he should have dared to speak in that rebellious tone to nurse. She, however, looked neither surprised nor angry.

"Very well, Master Hal," she said; "if that is all your grievance, it is easily put to rights. You shall have your meals in the schoolroom, if you like. I can't let you have them in the dining-room, because it would make extra work, and the parlour-maid is away. But Ann can easily carry in what I send you from here."

That was not at all what Hal wanted. He was too proud, however, and also far too sulky, to say any more on the subject. He was glad when nurse rose and said grace, and he was at liberty to leave the nursery.

"One minute, Master Hal," she said, as he was hurrying to the door; "have you forgotten that this is Saturday and pocket-money day? Wait while I get out my purse and pay you all."

Drusie watched him anxiously. Would he remember the birthday feast, and hand her the shilling, or would he keep it himself? Alas! Jim had been right, and she wrong. He received the shilling with a muttered word of thanks, and slipping it into his pocket left the room.

"I wonder," said Tommy, in an awestruck, thoughtful voice, "what Hal will do with a whole shilling? Will he spend it all at once, do you think?"

CHAPTER II.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

hough Hal's crossness at breakfast had made Drusie feel rather sad, it was impossible for her to unhappy for long on such a beautiful morning; and when Helen suggested that they should take a few of the rabbits with them to the clover field she cheerfully agreed.

"Punch and Judy and Toby went with us last time," she said, "and they didn't behave very well, so we won't take them with us to-day. Let's take Jumbo."

Jumbo was the oldest of all the rabbits, and he belonged to Hal, which was perhaps the reason that Drusie wished to take him. She thought it would please Hal.

Partly because Jumbo was so old, and partly because he was also very bad tempered, he lived by himself in a comfortable, roomy hutch, with a soft bed of hay at one end and a great wide space at the other, in which he took his meals and looked out of the door at the other rabbits. Helen, who did not care very much for Jumbo, declared that he did that on purpose to aggravate them, for they all finished their food long before he was half-way through his, and then they had nothing else to do but to sit and watch him. And that made them feel hungry again. He was sitting before his door now munching bran and oats, and at the mention of his name he pricked up his long ears and sleepily blinked his eyes. "H'm," said Helen, looking at him rather distrustfully; "Jumbo too can be dreadfully naughty when he likes, and he rather looks as if he meant it to-day."

But that, Drusie said laughing, was all nonsense, for no rabbit could have looked meeker or better-behaved than Jumbo that morning. So it was decided that he should accompany them; and as Punch and Judy and Toby scratched at their doors when they saw him on the ground, Jim said it would be unkind not to take them as well. And Drusie declined to leave Salt and Pepper behind, for they were always good. Thus, when the four children started for the clover field, it was a very big party of rabbits that went with them. But as Jumbo followed a great deal better than many dogs do, and as all the other rabbits followed Jumbo, the children had no trouble at all with them.

The way to the clover field lay through their own garden, and then across a big, sunny meadow. By the time they reached the meadow it was growing very hot, and the children sauntered along under the shade of a high hedge, and talked about the fight to be held on the following Tuesday.

Drusie felt more hopeful than she had done before breakfast, and she was perfectly sure that Hal would defend the fort. She was full of plans for making the fight a better and more exciting one than any they had yet had, and she was suggesting a scheme by which Tommy could act both as scout and advanced outpost, when a strong, delicious scent from the clover field was wafted towards them on the soft summer, breeze.

Jumbo smelt it, and lifting up his black nose gave one or two sniffs, and then darting past them at a rate surprising in a rabbit of his age made straight for the gap in the hedge; and, of course, after that there was no more time for conversation, for where Jumbo went the other rabbits followed. It was quite as much as the children could do to keep them in sight, and when they scrambled through the gap five of the six rabbits were sitting in a row contentedly munching away at the juicy stalks and cool green leaves of the clover. But Jumbo would not condescend to eat anything but pink, honey-filled flowers, and going from plant to plant he sat up on his hind legs and bit off the stalk just below the head.

"Jumbo is a clever rabbit," said Helen admiringly; "the others don't know the difference between the flowers and the leaves."

Then suddenly they all burst out laughing. For Jumbo, getting tired perhaps of sitting up so much on his hind legs, tried to support himself against a stalk while he nibbled at the flowers. But the stalk gave way, and Jumbo fell heavily across Pepper's neck, who, indignant at such a liberty, gave a squeak and darted away. Jumbo, trying hard to look as though he had tumbled down on purpose, began to wash his face and ears in a very diligent manner.

"Jumbo began to wash his face and ears"

It was some time before the children thought of returning; but presently Jim, who never cared to sit still for very long, said that they might as well be going, and added that as the rabbits had been so good they would give them an extra ramble, and take them home by the lane that ran along the top of the hill.

But that, as Helen remarked, was saying one word for the rabbits and two for himself; for the lane bordered the land belonging to an old gentleman, named Grey, who had lately come to live there, and from a gate at the top of the hill a glimpse could be caught of the river, where, too, a lovely pair of swans might be seen. Jim took a great interest in these swans, and longed to get down to the water so as to be close to them. But the gamekeeper was a surly fellow, and if he saw the children lingering near he would tell them that his master "couldn't abear boys nor girls either," and always was most severe if any people were caught trespassing on his land. Thus Jim had never dared to climb the gate. But Jumbo this morning was to give him an excuse for so doing. When they reached it, the children paused to gaze down at the river, which there broadened out into a sort of lake, with a grassy islet in the centre. The six rabbits paused also.

The clover they had eaten had made them feel rather sleepy, but now they were beginning to recover from the effects of it, and now they suddenly became quite frisky. Punch leaped over Judy's back, and then chased her into the middle of the road and back again. Even old Jumbo caught the infection, and though he very seldom condescended to take any notice of the other rabbits, now he gave Toby a playful poke with his nose, following it up by a bite on his ear that was not quite so playful. Toby gave a loud squeak of pain, and Jumbo, afraid perhaps that he might receive a bite in return, jumped through the bars and scampered down the field. He was half-way to the river before the children recovered from their surprise, and shouted to him to come back. But the more they shouted the faster he ran. And that was not the worst either, for the other rabbits were after him in a twinkling. But quick as they were Jim was quicker. He had no intention of allowing such an excellent opportunity of exploring the forbidden ground to slip, and crying that it was of no use to call to Jumbo he scrambled over the gate and rushed helter-skelter down the field, taking great care, however, not to get in front of Jumbo, but running behind him shouting and waving his hands.

To the interested onlookers at the gate, whom an uneasy fear of the gamekeeper kept from entering the field, it really seemed much more as though Jim were chasing Jumbo down the field than trying to capture him.

But, perhaps, even if Jim had wished to catch Jumbo he could not have done so, for the old rabbit was thoroughly enjoying his scamper, and with his little, short tail cocked up and his long ears streaming behind him he raced along like the wind.

And then a dreadful thing happened. Some twenty feet from the river the ground sloped very steeply, and such was the rate at which Jumbo was going that, when he reached this part, he could not stop himself, but tumbled head over heels, and rolling down the bank disappeared with a big, loud splash into the water.

Jim uttered a shout of dismay, which was echoed by all the others, who, hastily climbing over the gate, came rushing pell-mell down the field.

"Oh, where is he? Oh, is poor darling Jumbo drowned?" Drusie gasped.

But he was not drowned. Even as Drusie spoke his soft, black nose came to the surface, and kicking vigorously he struck out for the opposite bank.

"Why, he can swim!" Drusie cried joyfully. "But don't go that way, Jumbo; come here. Jumbo! Jumbo!"

Kneeling down on the bank she called to him; but Jumbo had quite lost his presence of mind, and, far too bewildered and alarmed to heed the children's cries, he paddled away from them as fast as ever he could.

"Oh, what shall we do?" Drusie cried in great distress. "His long fur will soon get so heavy that he will not be able to keep himself up. O Jumbo darling, come here!"

Jim was quite as frightened as she was. If only he had known how to swim, he would have plunged in to the rescue at once.

Then, as if matters were not already bad enough, they suddenly became worse. The swans, which Jim had been so anxious to see, suddenly sailed majestically round the bend of the small island, and came towards the children, expecting crumbs.

But none of the children, not even Jim, had any attention to spare for them, beautiful though they were. Their eyes were fixed on Jumbo, whose breath was coming in quick, short pants, and whose poor, short, little legs were growing more and more tired.

Disappointed at not getting the crumbs, the swans slowly turned round and were sailing away again when they caught sight of Jumbo, and with angry hisses and long necks outstretched they bore down upon him as he swam about half-way between the island and the bank.

"Oh, go to the island; it is nearer!" Drusie shrieked; "and O Jumbo, make haste!"

It almost seemed as if Jumbo understood what she said. At any rate he began to swim towards the island as fast as ever he could. But weighted with his long fur, and unaccustomed to swimming—for he had never in his life before been in the water, and how he had learned to swim always remained a mystery to the children—he yet struck out valiantly. He knew that he was swimming for his very life, and he never ceased paddling for one moment.

The children watched the race in a state of frantic excitement, while Jim ran up and down the bank looking in vain for something to throw at the swans and drive them away. And now came a moment during which the children literally held their breath. Jumbo was within two or three yards of the island when the foremost of the two swans stooped its long neck and made a savage grab at his hind legs. It seemed impossible that the cruel beak could miss him, yet it did; for poor Jumbo was by that time so exhausted that he suddenly sank and disappeared. The angry, surprised swan dived his head down in search of him; but the current, which swept round here with some force, carried Jumbo away, and finally flung him, a bedraggled and most unhappy-looking rabbit, on to a corner of the island. Drusie always declared afterwards that Jumbo had dived and swum under water; but whether that was true or not, saved he certainly was. Luckily for him the swans did not follow him, but contented themselves with sailing majestically up and down between the island and the bank, ready, if he showed the least sign of taking to the water again, to pursue him. But Jumbo had had enough of swimming to last him all his life, and preferred to stay where he was rather than venture again into the river.

But what was to happen next? They could not go home and leave Jumbo on the island, and yet there seemed no way in which they could get at him. And at any moment the cross gamekeeper might appear, and at this thought Drusie glanced round uneasily.

As she did so she gave a little jump, for running quickly towards them was somebody who, she was afraid at first, might be the gamekeeper himself. But a second glance showed her that the new-comer was only a boy, and a very nice-looking boy too, with merry, dark-blue eyes and a friendly manner.

"Hallo!" he said, rather breathlessly. "Is anything the matter? I heard a lot of shouting, and I came to see if anybody had tumbled into the river. But you are all quite dry."

"Yes, we are all right," Drusie explained hurriedly. "But one of our rabbits—Jumbo—has tumbled in, and the swans have chased him on to the island, and we don't know how to get him back again."

She pointed as she spoke to the island, and the boy, following the direction of her glance, burst out laughing.

"Is that a rabbit?" he said. "Why, it looks more like a drowned rat than anything else."

"Jumbo is very handsome when he is dry," Drusie said, inclined at first to be a little offended. But his laughter was infectious, and Jumbo did after all look so very much like a drowned rat that she could not help laughing too.

"I say, what a jolly lot of rabbits you have got!" the boy said, looking down at the other five, who were busy nibbling away at the grass, without seeming to care in the least what happened to Jumbo; "but aren't you afraid of their running away?"

"They generally behave beautifully," Drusie said, who, because the other three were rather shy, was obliged to do all the talking herself; "but something must have startled Jumbo when we were at the top of the hill, for he set off at a tremendous scamper, and tumbled in headforemost before we knew what was happening to him."

"Poor old Jumbo!" said the boy, as he looked across at the shivering, melancholy rabbit. "We must rescue him though, and that is easily done."

As he spoke he led the way along the bank to a spot where a thick clump of willows grew; and moored to one of these trees was a small, light canoe.

"I'll paddle across in less than no time," he said, "and if the swans do not interfere, I'll soon bring him safely back to you."

The swans did not interfere, however, and Jumbo a minute or two later was clasped in Drusie's arms. She almost cried over him in her joy at his safety.

Sitting down on the bank she began to dry him with her handkerchief; but it was soaked through at once, and the boy suggested that they should rub him with their hands. So Drusie placed him tenderly on the grass, and they rubbed him until their arms ached; and no doubt Jumbo ached too, for they all rubbed with a will.

"But at any rate," Drusie said in a tone of satisfaction, "he won't catch cold now, and he is so old that he might have had a dreadful attack of rheumatism."

Long before Jumbo was dry they had all become very friendly with their new acquaintance. Jim and Helen and Tommy forgot to be shy, and they all chatted away together as if they had known each other for quite a long time. It was not until half an hour later, as, with Jumbo lying comfortably in Drusie's arms, for she said he was too weak to walk, they were all hurrying home, that they remembered they did not even know what their new friend's name was, or where he lived.

"Perhaps," said Helen, "he lives at the Grange, and Captain Grey is his father."

"Captain Grey hasn't any children," Drusie said. "I heard nurse say so."

"Then perhaps he is staying there on a visit," Jim said.

But Drusie did not think that that was likely either, for had not the gamekeeper said that his master "could not abear boys"? And if that was the case, he certainly would not have one staying in the house.

But whoever he was, they all four agreed that he was an exceedingly nice boy, and they hoped that they might meet him again.

CHAPTER III.

HAL FINDS A FRIEND.

n their way through the garden they met Hal. Directly they saw him his brothers and sisters rushed up and told him all about Jumbo's adventures, and about the boy who had been so kind to them. Hal was not greatly interested. He was looking pale and listless, and there were heavy, dark lines about his eyes. When they asked him eagerly if he knew who the boy could be, he shook his head and yawned, and said that he was sure he did not know.

"Come and have a game of cricket," he said, rousing himself a little. "I have got my bat here, and the ball is somewhere about. Just have a look for it, Tommy. We won't bother about stumps. This tree will do quite well for the wicket."

"All right," Drusie said, delighted to find that Hal was willing to be friends again. "I should love a game; but we must put Jumbo and the other rabbits away first.—Come along, Jim and Helen."

She and Jim ran off at once, but Helen followed more slowly. She had a shrewd suspicion that Hal merely wanted them to bowl and field for him, and that he did not intend to allow them to bat. And she did not see the fun of running about in the hot sun after his balls, if she was not going to have any of the batting.

But Drusie and Jim were too excited at the prospect of a game to listen to her words of warning, and as soon as the rabbits had been hastily bundled into their hutches they raced back to the tree where Hal was waiting for them.

"You shall bowl first, Jim," he said.—"Drusie, you can stand behind the tree and be wicket-keeper, for, unless Jim has improved wonderfully since I went away, most of his balls will be fearful wides.—Helen, you go over there, and mind to throw the balls up sharp."

"Then you are going in first," said Helen, "and we are not going to toss?"

But Hal was busy measuring out the distance at which Jim was to stand, and did not hear her question. Or if he did, he evidently did not consider it worthy of an answer.

"Now then," Hal said, coming back; "I am ready. I am not going to make any runs, you know, as it is too hot; but you others must send the ball up promptly, or else it makes it slow work for me."

Jim's bowling was not very difficult to deal with, and Hal knocked the balls about pretty much as he pleased, and gave the fielders, and especially Helen, plenty of running about.

"Well, at this rate," Drusie said merrily, as she cleverly stopped a ball that was a very bad "wide" indeed, "we shall never get you out."

"No, I don't suppose you will," said Hal; and then he added ungratefully, "That is the worst of playing with a set of girls; one never gets any practice."

Whether Jim was annoyed at being classed as a girl, and was therefore put on his mettle, cannot be said for certain, but at any rate his very next ball hit the tree fair and square, and with so much violence that a piece of the rough elm bark was knocked off.

"Hurrah!" shouted Drusie, clapping her hands; "bowled at last. Who goes in next?"

"Don't be in such a mighty hurry," said Hal, who was looking distinctly angry. "I am not out—not a bit of it. Why, that ball was not anything like in the middle of the tree. Who ever heard of a wicket a yard and a quarter wide? You'll have to bowl better than that, Jim, to get me out."

"All right," Jim said, recovering himself. He had looked rather blank for a moment when Hal declared so emphatically that he was not out. "I suppose that ball was rather to one side of the tree. I will have another try."

But Helen was not so easily satisfied.

"You said, Hal, that the tree was to be the wicket; you never said anything about only counting the middle of the tree."

"Did I say so?" he replied. "Well, I made a mistake. Of course, it would be rather absurd to count the whole tree. I tell you what I will do. I will hang my cap on this little twig here, and if the ball hits that I am out. Now, are you satisfied?"

They all, with the exception of Helen, hastened to say that they were, and the game went on. A few minutes later he sent an easy catch, and darting forward Helen caught the ball.

"How about playing with girls now, Master Hal?" she cried. "I suppose you will own that you are fairly out this time?"

But he did nothing of the sort.

"Pooh!" he said contemptuously; "that was a pure fluke. Any one could have caught that; and so it does not count either. I am not going out."

"Oh, I say," Jim said in a remonstrating tone, "is that the way you play at your school?"

"Of course, it is not," said Hal. "Don't be a donkey, Jim. How often am I to tell you that this is not a regular game, but just a sort of knock up, you know?"

"In which you get all the knocking up," Helen said indignantly.

Hal laughed.

"Now, don't get into a temper, Helen. I don't see what girls want to play cricket for. It is not a girls' game. All they are good for is just to field, and that sort of thing."

At that Helen fairly choked with anger, Drusie opened her eyes very wide, and Jim lay down on the grass and laughed quietly to himself. Considering that both his sisters had been toiling on his behalf for the last half-hour, it certainly was very cool of Hal to make such a speech.

"I knew how it would be," Helen exclaimed passionately, as soon as she could find her voice; "and I warned you two others, only you would not listen. I knew perfectly well that Hal was not going to let us go in, and I call it downright unfair, and I for one am not going to field for him any more.—And you say," she added, turning indignantly to Hal, "that girls can't play cricket. Well, they can. Father says himself that Drusie plays awfully well for a girl, and I suppose he ought to know."

"For a girl," Hal said slightingly; "yes, that is just it."

"Please don't quarrel," Drusie said quickly. "You may stay in if you like, Hal, and I will bowl for you.—Jump up, Jim, and go and be wicket-keeper."

With a scornful sniff for what she considered to be great weakness on Drusie's part, Helen returned to her place, where, in spite of her declaration that she did not intend to play any more, she continued to field.

For a girl Drusie did bowl remarkably well, and Hal would have been the first to own it, had he not perceived a sort of triumphant "told you so" expression on Helen's face, which annoyed him greatly, and made him withhold the praise which Drusie would have been so pleased to hear.

She exerted herself to do her very best, and before many minutes had passed she clean bowled him. There could be no doubt about it this time, for the twig on which the cap had been hung was broken by the force of the ball, and the cap fell to the ground.

"Hurrah!" Helen shrieked, dancing about and clapping her hands. "How about girls not being able to bowl now, Master Hal? I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?"

"I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?"

Hal looked not only mortified but exceedingly angry into the bargain.

"You are a precious set, I must say," he said, looking contemptuously at the excited capers which Helen was cutting. "One would think that you had done something awfully wonderful by the way in which you are going on. That is just like a girl. Let her do something which she thinks rather clever, and there is no end to her airs."

This was really rather severe on Drusie, who had neither said nor done anything to justify Hal's scornful remarks. But he was too annoyed to be fair, and as a punishment for what he chose to call Drusie's bragging, he tucked his bat under his arm, and told them that he was not going to play with them any more.

"You can brag by yourselves," he said, "of your wonderful cricket. I am not going to put up with you any longer. I am sick of you all. I must say it is awfully hard on a fellow to come home and find that not one of his brothers or sisters is worth playing with. A more conceited, disagreeable lot I never met with."

A dismayed silence followed this abrupt departure. It was broken by a short, quick sigh from Drusie.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" she said, looking after Hal as he marched off with as much dignity as he could. "I do wish that I had not bowled him. If I had guessed that it would make him so cross, I would have sent him easy, baby-balls."

"And got told for your pains that you could not bowl," Helen said with much scorn. "I do wonder how you can be so silly, Drusie. I think it serves Hal quite right. But I told you how it would be. I knew we should not get our innings. You can't say that I did not warn you."

"No, we certainly can't," Jim said with a chuckle. "You have had a sort of 'I told you so' expression on your face ever since we began to play. And you know, Helen, if you ask me, I think it is all your fault that Hal went off in such a huff. He simply couldn't stand your being so awfully delighted when Drusie bowled him."

If Hal's sudden display of temper had struck dismay into the hearts of his brothers and sisters, it had not left him particularly happy either. Though he would not own it, even to himself, he had an uncomfortable feeling that it was he who was conceited and disagreeable. He was, however, full of excuses for himself, and when his conscience pricked him he answered impatiently that nobody could be expected to put up with the fearful airs that they had all been giving themselves.

Then, looking round to see that he was not being followed, he made his way to a hiding-place he had discovered behind the summer-house, and proceeded to employ himself there after a fashion of which nurse would most strongly have disapproved. He remained until the dinner-bell rang, when he crept out with a pale face and with every bit of his appetite gone.

He dined alone in the schoolroom, and nurse shook her head as his plates were carried back to the nursery, for he had scarcely touched anything that she had sent in to him.

"I hope, Master Hal, you are not going to be ill," she said, as soon as dinner was over. "What has come to you? You have not eaten anything."

"I am not hungry," Hal muttered, flushing under her scrutinizing gaze. "I have got rather a headache—that's all."

"Well, don't run about much in the sun," nurse said, only half satisfied. "You are looking very pale. Put on your straw hat too; that little cap is of no use at all. And don't go eating any green apples or gooseberries. I expect you have been in the kitchen-garden this morning, and that is what is the matter with you."

But it was neither green apples nor gooseberries which had given Hal the very uncomfortable sensations from which he was suffering. That, however, he did not explain to nurse; and feeling very wretched and unhappy he wandered out into the garden, and flung himself under a big, shady elm-tree. The others were nowhere in sight, and he felt injured that they should, even after his conduct of the morning, have left him to himself.

"A nice, sociable set they are," he said moodily. "Oh dear, how I do wish that I had somebody sensible to play with!"

But though he chose to grumble, he knew perfectly well that he was not just then in the humour to appreciate any society, however sensible, and pillowing his head upon his arm he dropped off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Drusie had planned a busy afternoon for herself and the others, for they intended to go to the fort and make ammunition for Tuesday.

Few children had nicer grounds to play in than the Danvers children. The garden was very large, and besides the lawn and the winding walks among the shrubberies, which afforded such capital hiding-places when they played hide-and-seek, there was the large kitchen-garden as well. Beyond the kitchen-garden lay pleasant, sunny fields, at the foot of which flowed a small stream that farther down joined the river in which Jumbo had been so nearly drowned. On the other side of the stream lay a long slip of land which Mr. Danvers always spoke of as a waste piece of ground, and over which he sometimes threatened to send the plough. But partly because the ground was really too poor to be of much good, and partly because the children begged him to leave it alone, it had never yet been disturbed, and the Wilderness, as they had named it, remained theirs to all intents and purposes.

That the Wilderness was a brambly place could not be denied. It had originally been a grove of nut trees, and though some of these still flourished and bore nuts that had not their equal for size and flavour in all the country-side, they had for the most part been strangled by blackberry bushes and briers, and smothered by masses of wild clematis.

The fort stood in a corner of the Wilderness. Within a few yards of it on one side was the stream; on the other and at the back it was surrounded by densely-growing hawthorn bushes. But the front was open and exposed to attack, for a cleared space in which only a few scattered nut trees grew lay before it.

This fort had once been a summer-house, but it had long since been disused, and would, no doubt, have fallen into decay, had not the children hit upon the idea of making it the scene of their pitched battles, and had so propped it up and strengthened it that it was impossible to take except by surprise.

The door had been nailed up and so had the window, and entrance could only be effected by scrambling up on the flat roof, and dropping through a hole which had been made there for that purpose. Even that hole could be closed by a hatch in time of need, and the besieged could lie snugly inside and listen to the heavy firing without, secure in the knowledge that as long as he chose to remain there none of the besiegers could touch him. But then his flag would be in danger; and by their rules of warfare, if the flag were captured or shot down, the fort was held to have capitulated.

For more than a week before Hal's return from school the others had been busy getting the ammunition ready; they had dug up a quantity of sand from the bed of the stream, which, when mixed with a little clay and moistened with water, represented cannon-balls. As, however, they had no cannon, these balls had to be thrown by hand; and as they scattered when they struck, they appeared more formidable than they really were. But still one had been known to bring down the flag, and so win the day for the besiegers.

The fort was mainly defended with a catapult loaded with mud pellets, shot being strictly forbidden as too dangerous. To protect them the besiegers wore a kind of helmet, which, though it gave them a somewhat ludicrous appearance, saved them from many a nasty blow. These helmets were neither more nor less than fine wire-gauze dish-covers, which they tied across their faces and fastened at the back of their heads. But the holder of the fort had to rely chiefly upon capture to win a victory, and when his enemies approached too closely, a bold rush often resulted in one of them being made prisoner. But, of course, even a brief absence from the fort left the flag undefended, and there was always a chance that, while one of the attackers was being pursued, some of the others might steal up and succeed in going off with the flag.

So it will be easily understood that courage and skill, combined with a spirit that was bold and yet not too rash, were required to hold the fort. And as none of them possessed these qualities to the same extent as Hal, it followed that none of them held the fort as well as he did, or made such a good fight of it.

Superintended by Drusie, they all worked very busily at the ammunition, and as they kneaded cannon-balls and pellets they laid out a plan of attack for the following Tuesday. Jim was of the opinion that they never took enough advantage of the shelter afforded by the thick and almost impenetrable bushes that grew on one side of the fort, and he proposed that while two of them made an attack in the open air, he or Drusie should lie concealed, and if Hal could be drawn out in pursuit they might get a chance of slipping in during his absence.

"He may have brought back some new dodges," said Drusie hopefully. "I wonder if he has ever played a game of this sort at school? Do you think he has, Jim?"

Jim thought it was doubtful.

"I believe they always play cricket in the summer term," he said. "But this will be a splendid change for him."

"I hope it will," said Drusie, with a sigh. "But I am simply not going to think what we shall do if, after all our trouble, Hal turns up his nose at a fight on Tuesday."

At tea-time Hal did not put in an appearance at all.

"He ought to be hungry," nurse said, "for he did not eat much dinner. I wonder where he can be?"

Tea was over, and they had all gone out into the garden again for a last stroll before bed-time, when they saw him come running across the field, which was separated from the lawn by a sunk fence. Leaping this, he rushed towards them, looking brighter and happier than he had done since his return.

"I say," he called out; "whom do you think I have met this afternoon? I have had such a splendid time; just guess."

They shook their heads; they could form no guess at all.

"Well, you will hardly believe it, but Dodds is down here. Dodds Major," he added, seeing that somehow his news did not produce as much effect as he had anticipated.

"Who is Dodds Major?" Drusie asked.

"Oh, how stupid you are!" Hal cried; "Why, I have told you about him in my letters lots of times. He is out and away the nicest fellow in our school. A big fellow, too, thirteen and a half, and simply splendid at cricket. He is leaving at Christmas, and going to the college."

"Does he live down here?" said Drusie.

"No; he is staying at the Grange with his uncle, Captain Grey. He is going to be here the whole holidays. Isn't it splendid for me?"

"Why," said Drusie, with a sudden sinking of her heart, "will you be much with him?"

"Rather," said Hal; "as much as ever he will have me. Of course," he added, with an important air, "he is jolly glad, too, to find another fellow down here. We are going fishing to-morrow in Captain Grey's trout stream. Dodds says that it is simply packed with fish. Won't that be jolly? I was playing cricket with him all this afternoon. He is going to play in a match that some friends of his uncle's are getting up next week, and he says that perhaps he can get me into it too. Won't that be jolly?"

In short, Hal was brimming over with good spirits. When, soon afterwards, nurse called Helen and Tommy to come to bed, Hal invited Drusie and Jim to come and sit with him while he had his tea, in order that he might chatter to them of his doings that afternoon, and about what he intended to do in future. And, of course, Dodds's name figured largely in his conversation, and neither Drusie nor Jim could help feeling rather glum as they heard how completely they were to be left out in the cold.

"It was a lucky chance meeting him," Hal rattled on. "After dinner I had a nap, and then I went for a stroll. I crossed over the river and went up the field that lies next to the Wilderness, and there, sitting on a gate, I saw Dodds. I can tell you I was surprised, and so was he. We talked for a bit, and then he asked me to come and play cricket. We had an awfully jolly afternoon, I can tell you," Hal added for the fiftieth time, at least. "I am jolly glad that he is here."

"Will you ask him to come over here and play?" said Drusie. "It would be rather nice to have some cricket with him—wouldn't it, Jim?"

Hal looked as though his ears had been deceiving him.

"What?" he said. "Ask Dodds over here to play with all of you? Why, you must be out of your senses, Drusie. The idea of Dodds playing with a girl! I say, how he would laugh!—We might have you, though, sometimes, Jim; you would be useful for fielding. I will ask him to-morrow if he would mind."

Jim, far from being overwhelmed at the possible honour in store for him, privately made up his mind to decline it with thanks when the time came.

While Hal had been speaking, a sudden idea had occurred to Drusie, and her face lit up with eagerness and excitement.

"O Hal," she exclaimed, "I believe that Dodds Major is our boy—the nice boy who rescued Jumbo, and who talked to us for such a long time."

Hal laughed scornfully.

"You don't know Dodds Major," he said. "He is not a bit like that. Why, I tell you that he hates girls, and wouldn't take any notice at all of any of you. Why, he is older even than I am."

"So was this boy," said Drusie. "But, of course, if you say that Dodds Major is not nice, they cannot be the same."

"I never said Dodds was not nice," Hal said impatiently. "I only said that he was not the sort of boy to play with girls. I expect that fellow you met this morning was an awful muff."

CHAPTER IV.

DISAPPOINTED HOPES.

or the next two or three days his family saw little of Hal. Morning, afternoon, and evening he was over at the Greys'. His meals he took in the schoolroom, and though nurse would have allowed him to come back to the nursery, if he had cared to do so, he very much preferred to have them in solitary state. He seemed to see nothing ridiculous in sitting there by himself; indeed, as he confided to Drusie, he thought it perfectly absurd that a boy of his age should ever have been expected to take them in the nursery.

She and the rest had plenty of time to make all their preparations for the double birthday to be celebrated on Tuesday, for Hal left them completely to themselves; and when he did see them, he was so full of all that he and Dodds Major did together that he had no time to show any interest in them.

"I should very much like to ask him whether he intends to take part in the fight to-morrow, or whether he means to spend the day as usual with his friend," said Helen.

It was late on Monday evening, and they had brought all their preparations to a satisfactory conclusion. The flag—a bright, new Union Jack—had been fastened to a long, slender pole, and was quite ready to be hoisted. The ammunition was arranged in a neat, high pile, and the armour lay ready to hand.

And in the garden summer-house, where, a few days back, the secret meeting had been held, the materials for a most sumptuous feast were in readiness to refresh the weary warriors when the day's work was done.

On previous birthdays they had always been satisfied with lemonade as a drink, but Drusie, feeling that this was a special occasion, had considered that lemonade was, perhaps, hardly a suitable form of refreshment; and so, from a recipe which she was proud to think was entirely out of her own head, she had concocted a bottle of red wine.

"And I think," she said, as she carefully hid it under the seat—"I think that when you taste it you will say that you never in all your lives before drank anything like it."

Tartlets and buns and a few other delicacies were to be ordered from the pastry-cook's on the eventful day itself.

So, everything being ready, and it wanting still an hour or more till their bedtime, they were rather at a loss to know what to do with themselves; and then it was that Helen expressed a desire to know what part Hal intended to take in the morrow's proceedings.

"No part at all, if you ask me," she added. "I say, Drusie, don't you think we might go up to the Greys' gate, and see if we can get a look at Hal and his precious friend Dodds?"

"Hal would be awfully angry if he saw us," said Drusie. "I don't think we should go."

But the hesitating tone in which she spoke showed that she was open to persuasion; and when Jim added his word to Helen's, and said that he thought there would be no harm in just going up and having a look over, she gave way. They soon reached the five-barred gate on which Hal had found Dodds sitting.

Neither of them was there, now, however; and so Helen proposed that they should climb over, and go down the grassy glade, which would bring them on to a small knoll, from whence they could command a view of the house and the wide lawn that lay in front of it.

The temptation to see Hal and his friend together was too strong for them to remember that they would be trespassing, and, scrambling over the gate, they made their way cautiously through the wood.

It was as well that they went cautiously, for the two boys were much closer to them than they had expected. To the left of the wood was a big level field, and it was here, and not on the lawn, that they were playing. The sound of a voice calling impatiently to Hal to hurry up with that ball, and not to be all night about it, was what first drew their attention to his whereabouts; and feeling rather astonished that any one should venture to address him in that imperious way, they crept up to the edge of the wood, and became silent spectators of what was going on.

The wicket was pitched in the middle of the field. Dodds was batting, but as his back was toward them, the children could not see his face. But they could hear his voice, and a very imperious, commanding voice it was. Hal was bowling and fielding as well, and as Dodds sent his balls flying to all parts of the field, Hal had plenty of work to do. And while he raced about in all directions Dodds lay luxuriously on the grass and shouted to him to hurry up. Presently Hal bowled a ball that very nearly knocked the middle stump flat on its back, and Drusie softly clapped her hands, and said "Bravo" under her breath.

"That was a very good ball indeed," they heard Dodds say approvingly. "Send a few more like that."

Hal flushed with pride and pleasure at this praise, but the others thought that he looked a shade disappointed as his friend placed himself again in front of the wicket.

But he continued to bowl for other ten minutes; then Dodds remarked that the light was getting bad, and that they might as well stop.

"I would bowl a bit for you," he said. "It is too dark to see the ball properly; I hope you don't mind. I really did mean to let you have some batting to-day."

"Oh, it does not matter," Hal said hurriedly. "Any time will do. I don't mind a bit."

"Still, I don't like to be selfish," said Dodds, whose conscience appeared to be pricking him. The unseen listeners among the bushes thought it might have pricked him a little earlier in the day, for they soon learned that neither on this occasion nor on any other had Hal been permitted to bat. He had merely bowled and fielded for Dodds. When they recovered from their astonishment at this, they could hardly help laughing. It was really rather funny, after all Hal's bragging, to find that he was only made use of in the way that he made use of them.

And the curious part of it was that Hal raised no objection, although it was easy to see that he was feeling a little disappointed this evening. On the other hand, he was so flattered at being allowed to associate, even on these unequal terms, with a boy so much older than himself, that he took care to smother his discontent.

"What about to-morrow?" said Dodds carelessly. "Can you be here pretty early?"

Hal hesitated for a minute before replying. In spite of Helen's assertions to the contrary, he had not forgotten that to-morrow was the day of the storming of the fort.