Just as the dreamer was in the midst of composing an elaborate letter of farewell to his mother, his sterner parent appeared on the scene, and poor Marmaduke’s trip to “some happy land” was postponed indefinitely.
Strange as it may at first seem, Marmaduke was more pleased to return home than he cared to acknowledge. Life as an exile in a gloomy old barn was decidedly monotonous; and his curiosity as to who the prisoner represented by Sauterelle could be, was becoming excited. It was a mystery which he must fathom.
His poor mother and his remorseful companions welcomed him with heart-felt joy; and twenty-four hours after he and Henry first met, they were debating—with considerable constraint, it is true—whether there is more fun in fishing with a spear than with a pole and line.
Such is life—among school-boys.
What effect did this have on the tricksters, in a moral point of view? Only a slight one, certainly not a lasting one. Though shocked and conscience-smitten for a time, they were soon as reckless and perverse as ever; and the lesson their suffering should have taught them was unheeded.
Considering the leniency with which Mr. Stolz treated them, they should have felt grateful towards him. On the contrary, whenever this practical joker hove in sight on his goggle-eyed old charger, instead of advancing to touch their hats to him respectfully, they regarded him with such deep-seated rancour that they invariably jumped over the handiest fence, and strolled off somewhere through the fields.
The gossiping villagers had a new subject of comment, and they took delight in jeering at the “French lords,” as they insultingly called the ex-plotters. For that reason it was dangerous, as long as the holidays lasted, to say anything to them about France or Frenchmen; and Stephen fell into such a habit of looking furious that his left eye was permanently injured.
As for Henry, he became so home-sick and heart-sick that, after a visit of only ten days, he packed his valise and returned.