"You were trespassing in my park last evening?"
"No, indeed, he never left this cottage," began Bessy, but her brother silenced her by a glance.
"I am sorry that I trespassed, sir," he said, respectfully, "I did not see the board, and I was after this little creature."
He drew out the squirrel which, frightened by the entrance of strangers, had taken refuge within his blue jacket.
"You were after something else," said Sir Lacy, roughly. "Do you mean to say that you did not wilfully smash some twenty panes in my conservatory last evening?"
Ned looked steadily into the face of the rude questioner as he replied, "I was never in sight of your conservatory, sir; and as for smashing your windows, I know no more who did the mischief than Mr. Curtis himself." And as if to appeal to his sense of justice, Ned Franks turned towards the clergyman.
"Perhaps you'll say that you know nothing about this," cried Sir Lacy, holding out a large leaden ball on which was roughly scratched the word "Sebastopol."
Ned Franks looked surprised, and, for a moment perplexed, and passed his hand through his hair, as was his wont when in any difficulty.
"Can you deny that it is yours?" asked the knight.
"It is mine," said the sailor, frankly. "'Tis a ball which struck me when we lay off the Crimea; but which—being spent—did not wound me at all, and I kept it in remembrance of a preservation from death. I lost it yesterday, I cannot tell where."