"We can get out of it," said Val, and Haidee brightened.
"Where would we go?"
"Oh, I don't know ... anywhere ... anywhere where we 'll never see a rabbit or a fowl again. I think I shall go mad if I stay among them another day."
"Me too--I'm sick of the beasts. Look at that cock-eyed eagle staring at us. Sh--sh, you brutes!"
"I wish I 'd never seen a hen in my life," said Val savagely.
"Let's get an axe and slay them all before we go," suggested Haidee. Suddenly her face grew long. "But where are we going to get the money from?"
The financial situation was such that even the children understood its simplicity; though if it had been more complicated Val would never have dreamed of not sharing it with them. Bran was able to tell to a penny how much the family purse contained, while Haidee as a matter of fact possessed a far finer appreciation of money values than either Westenra or Val.
"We 've got the rent," said the latter thoughtfully, and Haidee looked up quickly. With the lawlessness of youth she immediately jumped to the conclusion that Val meant to skip with the sum that was due to the landlord on September quarter-day, now close at hand. It was only a fourth of thirty-six pounds, but still, when times are hard and a sea voyage in contemplation, nine pounds are not to be despised. Val quickly dispelled this bright notion.
"I 'm not going to rob the landlord. All he will have to do is sell the farm-stock and my pretty London things, which of course we 'll leave. They will more than pay the rent for the rest of the lease, and enough left over to pay the bills we owe. We won't take anything but our clothes and a few books."
"What about Joy? Let's sell him. You know that old Farmer Le Seur offered fifteen pounds for him. I 'll go and tell him this morning, shall I?"