"That's neither here nor there. You've no business here, and you know it! Are you from that camp up the hill?"
"Yes."
"Then take yourselves off at once—spreading small-pox!"
"We've none of us had small-pox!" returned Beatrice indignantly. "We've told you we weren't doing any harm. Still, if this will make things right——" and she slipped half-a-crown into his hand.
The gamekeeper's expression changed considerably, and his tone instantly became more respectful.
"Well, young ladies, I have to do my duty, and of course you understand the pheasants mustn't be disturbed anyhow. Perhaps you won't mind going back to the Camp now. I'll show you a path that will take you into the lane."
He led the way, and the girls followed in subdued silence, feeling rather crestfallen. Mollie was yearning to tell him that he ought to be doing his duty by his country instead of by the pheasants. If at that moment she could have found a white feather, I believe she would have presented it to him. The path ended in a small gate which he unlocked. He ushered them solemnly into the lane, pointed out a trespass notice that was nailed conspicuously on to a tree, and then retired into the fastnesses of the wood. The girls decided that, unless actually compelled, they would not divulge where they had been.
"It was a bit of hard luck to be caught!" giggled Olave. "Didn't you feel queer when he came up?"
"I thought he was a beast, and didn't deserve propitiating with a tip!" declared Agatha.
"But we washed our hair!" rejoiced Mary, plaiting her long dark pigtail.