Aleck tried to answer, but failed, bursting into tears instead, and my mother talked on in her gentle loving way until the sobs grew less frequent, and my cousin became at last quite calm. She told him that I had always spoken the truth—she little knew—and that she could not doubt my word, and that my father had become quite convinced it was the mischievous work of the dog that had brought about all this trouble; and then she made him feel how wrong it was to have accused me, instead of believing my word; so that, before she left the room, he had told her he was very very sorry for what he had said, and he hoped she and his uncle would forgive him, and that he meant to ask my forgiveness also. I know that my mother told him of a higher forgiveness that must be obtained before he could feel at peace with his conscience, and spoke to him somewhat in the same manner that George had, about trials great or small being kindly and lovingly permitted by a heavenly Father.
I was almost asleep when my door opened, and the pattering of shoeless feet announced a visitor. Aleck was groping in the dark, and, guided by my voice, reached the bottom of my bed, discovered the mound raised by my feet, felt his way along the ridge of my person, and having arrived at my head, flung his arms around my neck, and kissing me warmly—in my eye by mistake—said he could not sleep until he had told me how sorry he was for having behaved so badly, and suspected me, and called me bad names. He was quite sure now that Frisk had done the mischief, and he hoped I would forgive him, adding that there was still just a chance of finding the vessel, and that he meant to be up very early, and out by six o'clock the next morning, to have a good look down in the White-Rock Cove. "I daresay I shall find it after all, Willie, and if not—why, I must finish the old thing we've been working at so long. But I once found a knife of mine after I had lost it a week in a hay-field; so you see I'm lucky." He kissed me again and went back to his bed, whilst I lay tossing and wakeful, full of shame and self-reproach, and yet more than ever built up in my determination that I would not, and could not, confess the whole truth; it would be too great a shame and humiliation after having so fully committed myself, and when my parents had expressed such perfect confidence in my truthfulness.
CHAPTER VIII.
ANOTHER SEARCH.
Half-past eight o'clock in the morning. The gong had sounded, and we had all assembled in the library for prayers. All but Aleck, who, for the first time since he had been with us at Braycombe, was not in his usual place.
My father missed him, and turned to ask me where he was.
"I expect he has gone out, papa," I replied; "he meant to go down to the shore to look for his boat."
"If you please, sir," said Bennet the footman, "I saw Master Gordon quite early this morning, maybe about six o'clock; he telled me he was going down to look after the ship."
Family prayer was concluded and breakfast began, and still Aleck did not appear. As he had no watch, it was not surprising that he should mistake the time to a certain extent; but we all wondered he should be so very late, and at last my father began to feel uneasy. "He must have been a long way off not to have heard the eight o'clock bell," he said; "yet he's a careful boy; it seems unlikely he should come to any harm."