told me, gruffly, in answer to my eager question. How we should fare with Mr. Chelton was of less concern. p. 16 I knew Mr. Chelton for a good-humoured gentleman. I did not fear that, though Tony and I had been found poaching on his preserves, the Squire would do worse than bid Tim Kerrick dress us down with his ash-plant. I did not dread committal, the Assizes and the terror of their Lordships, the Judges. Indeed, I believed that unseen I had dropped the hare out of sight in the furze; and I took it that Tony had long since rid himself of the rabbit from his pocket. Only when we were before the house did I find the chance of a word with Tony. Tim, loosing his grip then, and staring up doubtfully at the door, as if not knowing whether or not to conduct us before the Squire and Mr. Bradbury immediately, I poked my head forward and whispered to Tony, “Did you get rid of that rabbit?” He whispered back, “No! It’s stuck in my p. 17pocket;” but he could add nothing, for Tim gripped me instantly, and shook me, with the observation: “No talkin’! If it’s the rabbit you’re thinkin’ of, it’s in his pocket yet, for I’ve felt it there. And I saw you drop the bag with, belike, another inside. So don’t go thinkin’ yourself clever, John Howe! It’s gaol, or transportation, or at the very least a basting you’ve never felt the like of, and’ll never want to feel again. Squire’s at dinner. You’ll wait till Squire’s dined and wined, you will.” p. 17 With this cheerful augury Tim Kerrick propelled me before him, and the keeper following with Tony, we were marched about the house to the stables and into the harness-room. “You’ll be safe and snug here,” Tim said, ere he turned the key upon us, “Squire’ll deal with you, but not for a good two hours or more. So you can just think it all over in the dark.” Slamming the door Tim locked us in, and stumped away. His assertion that Mr. Chelton would not deal with us, till he had dined, gave me instant concern for my mother’s anxiety at my failure to return for supper. I pictured her dolefully—with my meal set all ready for me; sitting listening for my steps, peering up at the clock, and running out to the gate and waiting there, but seeing still no sign of me. And p. 18dreading, I guessed well, lest I should have disappeared as from the face of the earth—vanished with never a word to her, even as my father—of whom I shall tell presently. I cursed Tim Kerrick, Squire Chelton, and Mr. Bradbury. p. 18
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